#i should be writing short stories for writing competitions coming up

[everythingsinred]

an update for yall........ ill say no more

[mrsfancyferrari]

Good Luck Kiss

Summary: Lando is a fully independent guy until you are around.

Song: Under The Influence by Chris Brown

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 8.6k

MASTERLIST - F1

Once upon a time, in the bustling world of Formula 1, there lived a young and aspiring driver named Lando Norris. Lando was known for his quick reflexes, fearless racing style, and unwavering determination.

However, there was one aspect about Lando that many people didn't know - he was a fully independent guy, except for when he was around a certain someone.

It all started when Lando Norris attended the annual Formula 1 convention.

Amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, he stumbled upon a mysterious stranger. The woman's name was Y/N, and you were equally passionate about motorsports.

The two instantly connected over your shared love for speed and adrenaline.

As they chatted, Lando couldn't help but be drawn to your infectious laughter and genuine enthusiasm. They spent the entire evening together, discussing their favorite races, memorable moments, and even daring each other to try out some racing simulators.

It was a night that neither of them would ever forget, as they had found in each other a kindred spirit and a racing partner like no other.

"Wow! You're good," Lando said, flirting/teasing. "You should come over to the McLaren paddock to check it out," he added with a mischievous grin, knowing that you couldn't resist the chance to get a behind-the-scenes look at the heart of Formula 1.

"You're inviting me to the McLaren paddock? Are you serious?" you asked, a mix of excitement and disbelief evident in your voice.

"I would absolutely love to! That's like a dream come true for any Formula 1 fan," you replied, unable to contain your excitement.

Lando smirked, already getting used to your smile. "Well, get ready for the ride of your life," he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Because once you step into the McLaren paddock, you'll never want to leave."

Fast forward to the present, you had become Lando's best friend and constant companion both on and off the racetrack. You were there to support him through every victory and to lift him up during the challenging moments.

Together, you formed an unbreakable bond, a dynamic duo that pushed each other to new heights. Whether it was strategizing race tactics, cheering from the pit lane, or simply sharing a laugh after a long day, you were inseparable.

The McLaren paddock had become a second home for you, a place where memories were made, dreams were pursued, and the thrill of Formula 1 was lived to the fullest.

In addition to your close friendship with Lando, you also formed strong connections with the other drivers and their partners. The paddock became a tight-knit community where you shared laughs, stories, and even the occasional friendly competition.

It was a unique bond that extended beyond the racetrack, creating lifelong friendships that would continue to flourish even after the checkered flag fell.

As time went on, Lando found himself spending more and more time with you when they weren't in the paddock, and the press kept catching them together. Speculations about a romantic relationship between the two of you started circulating, fueling rumors and adding an extra layer of excitement to your already thrilling lives.

However, both of you remained tight-lipped about the nature of your relationship, preferring to keep it private and let the speculation run its course.

"Have you heard the latest rumors about Y/N and Lando? They're definitely more than just friends, I can feel it!" one fan excitedly whispered to another in the paddock.

"I don't know, they've always been so secretive about their relationship. But I wouldn't be surprised if they're actually together," replied another, their eyes fixated on you and Lando as you laughed together nearby.

"I heard they're the perfect match, both on and off the track. They bring out the best in each other," chimed in a journalist, discreetly taking notes.

"Well, whatever their relationship status is, they make a formidable team. I've never seen Lando so focused and driven before," commented a fellow driver, watching Lando's improved performance.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see if they ever confirm it. But until then, I'm rooting for them," concluded a teammate, smiling in support. . . .

"Where's Y/N?" Lando complained, sulking after not seeing his best friend for three hours.

This morning, he was required to film a go kart video for Quadrant for their marketing campaign and it was suggested that you be a part of it, which he had no problem with at all, he wanted you to be there regardless.

"Don't worry mate, I'm sure your girlfriend will be here soon," Max teased, nudging his shoulder against Lando's.

Lando gently shoved him back for his comment, a playful smile on his face. "She's not my girlfriend, Max. Y/N and I are just really close friends," he clarified, emphasizing the word 'friend' to make his point.

Deep down, though, Lando couldn't help but wonder if there could ever be something more between them.

"Yeah, yeah," Max replied, not believing him one bit. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more going on there, mate."

Before Lando could talk back, footsteps were heard, and you emerged from the crowd of staff.

You emerged from the crowd of staff, donning a sleek black leather jacket that hugged your figure perfectly. Underneath, you wore a vibrant orange crop top that accentuated your curves and matched the colour of the McLaren, paired with high-waisted jeans that showcased your long legs.

Completing the ensemble were a pair of white sneakers that added a touch of casual coolness to your overall look.

As you approached Lando and Max, the mischievous smile on your lips hinted at the adventures that awaited the three of you, fueling Lando's curiosity even further about the potential for something more than just friendship between you.

"Sorry I'm late, boys. Traffic was a nightmare," you said, smiling at Lando, who couldn't help but blush at the sight of you.

"It's okay, we can start now," Lando assured, avoiding your eyes to calm down a bit.

"But when I'm 5 minutes late, I get yelled at," Max muttered beside him and received another shove from Lando.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts as he prepared to introduce the go-karting video.

With you and Max standing beside him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement. "Alright, everyone, welcome to Quadrant's go-karting extravaganza!" Lando exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Today, we have two special guests joining us for some adrenaline-pumping action. Please give a warm welcome to the one and only Y/N and the ever-competitive Max!"

The crowd cheered, and Lando glanced at you. A mixture of anticipation and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on coursing through him.

Max playfully nudged Lando's shoulder, adding, "And let me tell you, folks, the competition between Lando and Y/N is about to get intense. I can't wait to see who comes out on top!"

After explaining the rules, the three of them started to change into their racing suits. Max slipped into his familiar Red Bull suit, while you and Lando excitedly put on the McLaren suits.

As Lando muttered, "Let me help you with that," he reached for your helmet, his fingers grazing your cheek as he brushed your hair away.

The intensity in his eyes remained unbroken as he carefully positioned the helmet on your head, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Oh my god! You two better get a room," Max said beside you two, looking more frustrated than the two of you felt about your feelings for each other.

Lando quickly let go of you, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks, and you said a quick thank you before rushing over to where Max was since it was you vs Max first.

The anticipation and excitement in the air was palpable as you both prepared to show off your go-karting skills.

You both got into your go-karts with the determination to start the video with a great race to capture the viewer's attention.

You gripped the wheel of your go-kart tightly, your heart pounding with anticipation. Lando raised the starter pistol, his eyes focused on the track ahead. "On your marks... get set..." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Go!"

The sound of the pistol echoed through the air, and you and Max shot off like lightning. The thrill of the race fueled your determination to come out on top.

The wind whipped through your hair as you maneuvered your kart around the bends. The thrill of the race pushing you to your limits. As the laps flew by, the competition between you and Max intensified, fueling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pressed down on the accelerator and zoomed ahead, determined to showcase your go-karting skills. Max, however, was not far behind, and the friendly competition between the two of you intensified as you maneuvered through the twists and turns of the track.

Max was hot on your tail, his competitive nature driving him to catch up and surpass you. The cheers from the crowd faded into the background as you focused on the twists and turns of the track, determined to give it your all.

The wind whipped against your face, causing your cheeks to flush with exhilaration. Every twist and turn of the track sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses and sharpening your focus. The vibrations from the go-kart's engine reverberated through your body, adding to the excitement of the race.

As the race continued, you and Max pushed each other to the limits, maneuvering through the twists and turns with precision and skill. The crowd cheered as you both showcased your go-karting prowess, but Max's determination proved to be unmatched.

In the final lap, he made a daring move, overtaking you with a burst of speed that left you in awe. With a triumphant smile, Max crossed the finish line, claiming victory in the race.

Despite the disappointment of not winning, you couldn't help but admire Max's talent and sportsmanship, knowing that you had given it your all in a thrilling and unforgettable race.

Lando quickly ran over to you as you got out of the go-kart to check for any injuries while you assured him that you were fine.

Despite the loss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for the exhilarating race you had just experienced.

"What about me? I think my legs hurt," Max muttered, acting like he broke his leg.

"That's karma for you," Lando replied, "You should have let Y/N win,"

"Never," Max said with a smirk, "I'm not one to let someone win just out of pity." Lando chuckled and patted Max on the back, "Well, Y/N certainly gave you a run for your money. It was an incredible race to watch."

Max's competitive spirit still brimming, he replied, "Yeah, they did. I'll give them that. But next time, I won't be so merciful."

You chuckle and playfully retort, "Oh, so you're admitting that you were being merciful this time?"

Max rolls his eyes and smirks, "Just you wait, next time I won't hold back and you won't stand a chance."

You and Lando got into your go-karts, the engines roaring to life as you prepared for the race. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, adding to the anticipation of the competition.

"Am I going to get my good luck kiss?" Lando teased beside you, causing a playful smile to spread across your face.

You playfully roll your eyes at Lando's comment and give him a playful shove. "You wish," you respond with a smirk.

Lando pleads, "Come on, just one good luck kiss! It worked last time!"

You laugh and shake your head, "Sorry, Lando, but I don't think a kiss will give you an advantage this time. You'll have to rely on your own skills."

Lando pouted, feeling disappointed that things didn't go his way. Max, who had been growing increasingly disgusted by the playful "flirting" between you and Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands.

Without warning, he fired the starting pistol, catching both you and Lando off guard and initiating the race with a bang. The sudden sound echoed through the air, signaling the beginning of another intense competition.

The race started off with a flurry of speed and adrenaline as you and Lando maneuvered your go-karts through the twists and turns of the track. Both of you showcased impressive skills, overtaking each other and pushing the limits of your vehicles.

As the race progressed, Lando began to gain a slight edge, skillfully navigating the corners and maximizing his speed on the straightaways. You gave it your all, refusing to let Lando take the lead without a fight. But despite your best efforts, Lando's expertise and precision behind the wheel proved to be unmatched.

You could feel the wind from Lando's go-kart as he zoomed past the front of your car, leaving you in his dust. His maneuver was both impressive and frustrating, as you had been neck-and-neck for most of the race.

"Hey, I thought you would take it easy on her?" Max asked Lando after he got out of the go-kart.

Lando chuckled and shrugged, " Since she wouldn't give me what I wanted, I had no choice but to do it."

"You would have won regardless, with or without the kiss," you said, also getting out of the go-kart. "It was a great race, Lando. You really showed your skill out there."

Lando grinned, still catching his breath. "Thanks Y/N."

Since you were tired from all the racing, the two guys decided to do some mini games to pass the time while you rested on a chair. They set up a table tennis table and started a friendly match, their competitive spirits still shining through.

As they played, you watched with amusement, enjoying the lighthearted banter and laughter that filled the air.

Occasionally, they would invite you to join in, but you declined, content to relax and soak in the camaraderie that had developed between the three of you.

After a few rounds of table tennis, they moved on to a game of darts, taking turns aiming for the bullseye with precision and skill. It was a refreshing change of pace from the intense racing, and you found yourself appreciating the moment of respite.

As you laid back on the chair, you started to fall asleep, the sounds of their laughter and the clinking of darts fading into the background. The exhaustion from the race and the adrenaline rush began to take its toll, and before you knew it, you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, feeling grateful for the bonds of friendship that had been formed during this exhilarating competition.

You knew that there would likely be photos or videos taken of you sleeping, but at that moment, you didn't care. The fatigue from the race had overtaken you, and all you wanted was a peaceful nap.

The trust and camaraderie you had built with Lando and Max allowed you to let your guard down, knowing that even if embarrassing moments were captured, they would remain within the circle of friendship.

The intense racing had left you physically and mentally drained, making the peaceful slumber that followed even more satisfying.

The adrenaline rush and the exertion of pushing yourself to the limit had taken a toll on your energy levels, and the nap provided a much-needed opportunity to recharge and recover. . . .

As you slowly opened your eyes, you were greeted by the refreshing sensation of coolness and shade. You thought the sun had shifted and now cast a gentle shadow over the area where you had been napping.

It was a stark contrast to the warmth and brightness that enveloped you before, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the respite from the scorching heat.

You looked over to see Lando holding an umbrella over you while being on his phone, and couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtful gesture. Despite being absorbed in his own activities, he had taken the time to shield you from the sun and ensure your comfort.

You couldn't help but admire Lando's striking features. His curly hair, tousled by the wind, framed a face that exuded a combination of youthful energy and maturity beyond his years. His eyes, a vibrant shade of hazel, sparkled with intelligence and a mischievous glint that hinted at his playful nature.

The dimples that appeared when he smiled added an undeniable charm to his already captivating presence. And his infectious laughter, a melodic blend of joy and enthusiasm, never failed to brighten your day.

But it was his kind heart and genuine concern for others that truly set him apart.

His selflessness had been evident in countless small gestures, like now, as he shielded you from the sun without a second thought, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to the happiness and well-being of those around him.

His eyes then flickered up and met your eyes, locking in a moment of connection that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. In that instant, it felt as if time had stopped, and the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of unspoken emotions.

"Well good evening sleepyhead, how long have you been awake?" Lando teased, breaking the enchanting spell between the two of you.

The sound of his voice brought you back to reality, and you couldn't help but blush at being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

"Wait, did you say evening?" you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts.

Lando chuckled softly, his eyes still holding a twinkle of amusement.

"Well, time flies when you're lost in a nap, doesn't it? It's already late afternoon," he replied, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"What about the video?" you asked, sitting in panic that you ruined it because you were asleep.

Lando's smile widened as he reassured you, "Don't worry, we still have time to do the final if you're still up for it. Your nap just added a touch of authenticity to the footage."

You nodded, taking the umbrella off Lando so he could stretch his arm. As he did, you couldn't help but appreciate the way his muscles flexed and the way his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tanned skin.

It was moments like these that made you grateful for the unexpected connections you found in life.

"Finally she has risen from the nap of the century," Max said as soon as he saw the both of you walk into the staff room.

You couldn't help but blush at the teasing remark, but Lando's reassuring presence beside you made you feel at ease.

"We're definitely up for finishing the video today," Lando replied with a confident smile. "We just had a little detour, but we're ready to get back on track."

Lando replied confidently, his eyes glancing at you for confirmation.

You nodded, feeling a surge of excitement and determination to complete the project with the support of your newfound connection.

"I guess I can spend one more hour of my time to beat the both of you in go-karting," Max stated, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You couldn't help but exchange a playful glance with Lando, silently accepting the challenge and looking forward to the friendly competition that awaited you.

"Challenge accepted," you replied, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

The upcoming go-karting race was not just a friendly competition between friends. It was the final showdown between Max and Lando, a battle that would determine once and for all who was the true champion of the track.

As Max and Lando did their slow walk for the video, the tension in the air was palpable. This final race was not just about winning a trophy; it was about pride, honor, and the ultimate bragging rights among friends.

The tension in the air was palpable, and everyone knew that this race would be the ultimate test of skill and determination for both competitors.

As they got into their go-karts, Lando gestured for you to come over.

Curiosity piqued, you approached Lando's go-kart, wondering what he had in store.

He leaned in and whispered, "I'm going to need my good luck kiss if you want me to win this race."

"Well," you whispered back with a mischievous glint in your eye, "if it's good luck you're after, I suppose I have no choice but to oblige. After all, we wouldn't want anything to hinder our chances of beating Max, would we?"

Lando grinned and nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with determination. He knew that every advantage counted in this high-stakes race, and he was willing to go to any lengths to secure the victory.

He also just wanted a kiss from you.

You cupped his face and gently placed your lips on his cheek, giving him the good luck kiss he desired.

As your lips touched Lando's cheek, a surge of warmth and determination spread through Lando's body. It was as if the kiss transferred a sense of confidence, fueling him with an electric energy that would propel Lando forward in the race.

As you pulled away, a spark of excitement passed between you, fueling your determination to win the race and prove to Max once and for all that you and Lando were an unstoppable team.

Lando's ears turned a shade of crimson, but his smile only grew brighter. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation and confidence, knowing that he had your support and the added boost of the good luck kiss.

"Thanks Y/N," he said, his voice filled with gratitude and excitement. "With your good luck kiss, I know we're going to dominate this race and show Max who the true champion is."

With determination in his eyes, Lando strapped on his helmet and revved the engine of his go-kart, prepared to give it his all in the race.

Blushing at his words, you playfully tapped Lando on the shoulder before walking over to the starting line with the starting pistol in hand.

The anticipation in the air was palpable as you raised the pistol, ready to signal the start of the race and unleash the fierce competition between Lando and Max.

The good luck kiss not only symbolized your support for Lando, but it also ignited a newfound confidence within him.

Fueled by the warmth and determination that the kiss brought, Lando was ready to give his all in the race, knowing that he had the power of your love and support behind him, making him unstoppable.

The sound of the starting pistol echoed through the air, piercing the silence and signaling the beginning of the race.

Lando's go-kart shot forward, the engine roaring as he accelerated with a fierce determination. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his focus fixed solely on the track ahead.

With every twist and turn, he pushed himself to the limit, fueled by the knowledge that he had your love and support propelling him forward.

As the race progressed, Lando skillfully maneuvered through the tight corners and overtaking Max with precision. Each lap brought him closer to victory, and his confidence soared with every successful maneuver. His determination never wavered, and he maintained a steady lead throughout the race.

In the final moments, with the finish line in sight, Lando summoned every ounce of his skill and experience. He pushed his go-kart to its limits, leaving his rival trailing behind.

As he crossed the finish line, a triumphant smile spread across his face.

Lando had emerged as the true champion, proving to Max and everyone else that with your support, he was unstoppable.

He immediately made his way to where you were, quickly jumping out of the go-kart and into your arms. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins as he held you tightly, his heart filled with a mixture of excitement and gratitude.

Breathing heavily, he looked into your eyes with a mixture of exhilaration and gratitude, knowing that it was your good luck kiss and unwavering support that propelled him to victory.

With tears of joy welling in his eyes, he whispered, "Thank you for believing in me. I couldn't have done it without you."

As you took off Lando's helmet, a mischievous smile spread across your face. Playfully, you pressed kisses all over his cheeks, purposely missing his lips. Lando couldn't help but laugh, feeling the warmth of your love and support enveloping him.

In that moment, he knew that your presence and encouragement were the true driving force behind his victory, and he was forever grateful for your unwavering belief in him.

Lando chuckled, his heart still racing from the intense competition.

"If it's good luck kisses that you need to win races, I'll gladly take as many as you want to give," you replied, playfully wiping off the remaining lipstick stains from his face.

Your presence and support had truly become his secret weapon, fueling him with the determination to conquer any race that lay ahead.

Lando couldn't help but blush at your playful gesture, feeling a surge of happiness and gratitude. "I wouldn't say no to more good luck kisses," he replied with a grin, his heart swelling with love for you.

"But can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

Lando whispered, his voice barely audible. He pointed to his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If I win a grand prix, you have to give me a victory kiss right here."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, realizing that his request was both playful and sincere.

With a smile, you nodded and replied, "Deal. I'll be waiting to give you that grand prix victory kiss."

Lando chuckled, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can't wait to win these races and claim my well-deserved victory kiss. You better start practicing your cheering skills because I'm going to need all the luck I can get," he teased, his voice filled with determination and anticipation.

"Trust me, I'll be the loudest cheerleader in the stands, I have no doubt that you'll win every race and I'll be right there cheering you on," you replied, your voice filled with unwavering belief and love.

Lost in the moment, the both of you didn't even hear Max do the outro for the video. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and it seemed like everyone around you could see it.

Max, who had been watching your interactions all day, let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you two ever going to get together?" he muttered under his breath, clearly sick of the two of you dancing around your feelings.

It was time to stop playing games and finally admit what had been obvious to everyone else for so long. . . .

And so, the whispers of Lando and your relationship spread throughout the racing community, with everyone eagerly anticipating the day when you would finally become more than just friends. . . .

The anticipation for the Miami Grand Prix reached fever pitch as fans eagerly awaited your relationship with Lando to blossom. The video had ignited a frenzy of excitement, and spectators couldn't help but wonder if the grand prix victory kiss would be the catalyst for your official union.

The anticipation for the Miami Grand Prix was at an all-time high, fueled not only by the excitement of the race but also by the fans' obsession with your relationship with Lando.

Everywhere you went, people asked when you were going to make it official, eagerly waiting for the victory kiss that had been promised.

The pressure was on, but deep down, you both knew that this race would be a turning point in more ways than one.

As Lando delved into intense discussions with the engineers, you took the opportunity to explore the bustling paddock. The atmosphere was electric, with the sounds of engines revving and the smell of burning rubber filling the air.

You wandered from team to team, immersing yourself in the world of Formula 1, gaining a deeper appreciation for the dedication and precision that went into each race.

The atmosphere was electric, with teams frantically making last-minute adjustments to their cars and fans eagerly snapping photos of their favorite drivers.

As you explored, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. The Miami Grand Prix was not only a crucial moment for Lando's racing career but also for your relationship.

"Y/N! Long time no see!" you heard from behind you, turning around to see who it was.

Standing before you was Alexandra Saint Mleux, the renowned fashion influencer and close friend of Lando. Her striking features, with piercing blue eyes and perfectly coiffed blonde hair, seemed to radiate confidence.

She was dressed impeccably, donning a tailored white pantsuit that accentuated her slender figure, paired with a bold statement necklace and stiletto heels, exuding an air of sophistication and glamour.

"Alexandra!" you exclaimed, a smile spreading across your face as you embraced your best friend in the paddock.

It had been far too long since you had seen each other, and you couldn't wait to catch up on all the latest news and gossip.

"How have you been?" Alexandra asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, eager to share the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed your life since the last time you had seen her.

"Oh, Alexandra, where do I even begin?" you replied, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. "So much has happened since we last caught up. Lando, and I... it's all been a rollercoaster of emotions."

Alexandra was captivated by your journey and couldn't help but ask, "So, what's the deal with you and Lando? Are you two finally going to make it official?"

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Well, Alexandra, it's complicated," you say with a hint of uncertainty.

"Lando and I have been through so much together, and I care about him deeply. But there are still some things we need to figure out before we can make any official decisions."

Alexandra nodded understandingly, sensing the weight of your words. She quickly changed the topic, eager to distract you from the complexity of your relationship with Lando.

With a smile, she began sharing stories about her recent travels with Leo and Charles and the adventures they had together.

As you listened, the worries and uncertainties faded into the background, replaced by laughter and the warmth of friendship. . . .

"Y/N! Miss L/N!" A McLaren staff came out of nowhere, frantically looking for you. You turned towards them, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your eyes, wondering what could be so urgent that they interrupted your long-awaited reunion with Alexandra.

You turned towards the staff member, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice as you asked, "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"It's Lando,"

Startled, you turned to Alexandra and said, "I guess our catch-up will have to wait. Duty calls."

Alexandra nodded understandingly, giving you a quick hug before you followed the staff. "Take care, Y/N," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "I hope everything is alright with Lando."

"I hope so too," you replied, your heart pounding with worry. "I'll find out what's going on and let you know as soon as I can." With that, you hurried after the staff member, praying that whatever had happened to Lando wasn't as serious as it sounded.

As they walked, you asked the staff member, "What happened? Is Lando okay?"

"He won't get in his car," the staff member stated. "He said he needed to see you before he goes."

Your heart sank as you realized that you had let the time slip away. You knew how important it was to be there for Lando before he left, and now you were filled with regret for not keeping your promise. You quickened your pace, hoping that you would be able to reach him in time and make things right.

"Kid, she's not coming," Zac tried to convince him, "You'll see her after the race anyway,"

"But I can't race without seeing her," Lando insisted, his determination unwavering.

"But Lando," Zac pleaded, "this is your chance to prove yourself on the track. You've worked so hard for this opportunity."

Lando shook his head, determination in his eyes. "If she's not coming, then I'm not going," he said firmly, his mind made up.

"Wait, Lando!" you called out, catching up to him just in time. "I'm here, I'm sorry for being late. I couldn't bear the thought of you racing without seeing you first."

Lando's eyes softened as he looked at you. A mix of relief and love filled his expression. "I can't do this without you," he whispered, taking your hand in his.

As you stood there, hand in hand with Lando, you knew that the cameras were capturing this intimate moment between the two of you. But in that moment, you didn't care about the public scrutiny or the potential backlash.

All that mattered was being there for each other, supporting one another through the highs and lows.

The pressure of the race, the expectations, and the regrets of being late all faded away as you stood there, united and ready to face whatever challenges came your way.

"What's the problem?" you asked worriedly, ready to fight anyone for Lando.

"I need my good luck kiss," Lando said desperately, his eyes pleading with you.

"You're telling me that you won't go because you wanted a kiss from me?" you slapped his shoulder gently, your disbelief evident in your voice.

Lando grinned sheepishly, his determination momentarily wavering. "Well, yeah, I guess so," he admitted, his eyes searching yours for any sign of agreement.

Despite the urgency of the situation, you couldn't help but smile at his request. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his cheek, sending a wave of reassurance and love through his body.

"Good luck Lando," you said.

"Thanks, I'll win for you, okay," Lando replied, grinning, running over to his car and driving off at the start of the race.

As you watched him go, a mixture of nerves and excitement filled your heart, knowing that you would be cheering him on every step of the way, no matter what.

"I can't believe that he wasn't going to go without your 'good luck' kiss," you heard Zac say beside you, tired of Lando's behavior.

"I know, it's ridiculous," you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. "But that's just Lando being Lando. He's always had this superstition about needing a good luck kiss before a race. I guess I've just gotten used to it."

"At this point, you two should get together," Zac stated.

You chuckled and glanced at Zac, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. "Well, maybe it's about time we make it official," you replied, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Zac grinned and nodded approvingly, knowing that you and Lando were meant to be together.

You smiled at Zac's comment, realizing that there was truth in his words. It was clear that your bond with Lando went beyond superstitions and good luck kisses.

As you watched the race unfold, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, it was time to take your relationship to the next level. . . .

The Miami Grand Prix was a thrilling and intense race from start to finish. Lando showcased his exceptional driving skills, maneuvering through the challenging turns and maintaining a competitive edge.

He faced tough competition from other skilled drivers, each vying for the top spot. As the laps progressed, Lando's determination remained unwavering, his focus unwavering as he pushed the limits of his car.

Despite the challenges of intense competition and the demanding nature of the race track, Lando remained composed and strategic.

He skillfully navigated through tight turns, battled for position, and made split-second decisions to maintain his competitive edge. It was a true test of his abilities, but Lando's determination and skill shone through, propelling him closer to victory.

The crowd erupted in cheers as he made daring overtakes and showcased his racing prowess.

In the end, Lando emerged victorious, crossing the finish line with a triumphant smile on his face, proving once again that he was a force to be reckoned with in the world of racing.

You were on your feet as soon as he passed the chequered flag, your heart pounding with excitement. The roar of the crowd enveloped you as you joined in the celebration, cheering and clapping for Lando's incredible victory.

The moment was electric, filled with a sense of pride and joy that only intensified as you made your way to the podium to congratulate him on his well-deserved win.

Seeing his triumphant smile up close, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride and joy, knowing that you were there to witness this unforgettable moment in Lando's racing career.

Tears of happiness streamed down your face as you witnessed the culmination of his hard work and dedication, knowing that this victory was not only a testament to his talent

"Let's go, you have a grand prix victory kiss to deliver," Zac said, coming out of nowhere to help you get through the crowd.

People already started to give space as soon as they saw you, having a knowing grin on their faces. It was clear that they recognized you as someone special, someone who was close to the victorious driver.

As you made your way through the crowd, their excitement and anticipation grew, and you could feel their admiration and respect for being part of Lando's inner circle.

The moment you reached where Lando was, the crowd erupted into cheers once again, celebrating not only Lando's victory but also your presence and support throughout his journey.

As you approached Lando, he was still tightly embracing his team, their faces beaming with pride and joy. You waited patiently, soaking in the atmosphere and reflecting on the incredible journey that led to this victorious moment.

The sight of their camaraderie and shared joy warmed your heart, as you knew that their teamwork and support had played a crucial role in Lando's success.

As the team staff pointed at you and yelled, "Aye there's your girlfriend mate!", you couldn't help but blush.

Lando immediately turned around, his eyes falling on you, the biggest grin on his face. He hurriedly made his way towards you, pushing through the crowd, and swept you up in a tight embrace.

"We did it" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

"You did it, Lando. It was all you," you said, your voice filled with genuine admiration and pride.

"No, you were my motivation to win," he replied, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck. "Oh please, don't give me that cliché line," you teased, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. "But I'm glad I could be there to support you. Congratulations, champ."

You pushed his head gently closer, feeling the electricity between you two intensify as your lips inched closer. The anticipation grew with each passing second, and the world seemed to fade away as you both leaned in, your breathing becoming shallow and quick.

Finally, your lips met in a gentle, tender kiss, savoring the moment of victory and shared love. The kiss started soft and sweet, but soon grew more passionate and intense, fueled by the adrenaline and emotions of the triumphant race.

The kiss started softly, a gentle exploration of each other's lips, but soon grew more intense, fueled by the passion and desire that had been building between you for so long.

The once gentle kisses turned into a hungry exchange, as your lips moved together in perfect sync, leaving no doubt about the depth of your love and longing for each other.

As your lips moved together in perfect sync, Lando's hands tightened their grip on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

The intensity of the kiss mirrored the intensity of the emotions coursing through both of you, solidifying the connection that had been growing between you for so long.

Your hands were tangling in his sweaty hair, the sensation only adding to the exhilaration of the moment. The soft strands slipped through your fingers as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the taste and feel of him.

Time seemed to stand still as you both surrendered to the passion, knowing that this victory was not just about the race, but about the love that had brought you together.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, your heart still racing with desire. "As much as I would love to stay here with you, you have a podium to attend in just a few minutes," you reminded him with a playful smile, trying to catch your breath.

Lando pouted at your response but knew he had to leave. "You know where to meet me right?" he whispered, his eyes filled with longing and anticipation, as he reluctantly pulled away, knowing that the celebration would have to wait until later.

"Of course," you replied, your voice filled with the same longing and anticipation. "I'll meet you at our spot as soon as the podium ceremony is over."

He grinned mischievously, stealing one last kiss before reluctantly tearing himself away from you.

The taste of him lingered on your lips as he hurriedly made his way to the podium, leaving you breathless and longing for the moment when you could meet again at your special spot. . . .

As Lando made his way to the media section to be interviewed for his win, his mind couldn't help but wander back to you. Thoughts of your passionate kiss lingered in his thoughts.

He couldn't wait for the podium ceremony to be over so that he could reunite with you at your spot and continue where you had left off.

However, he then felt something on his lips and he snapped out of it, moving away from it - it was a staff cleaning his lips with a cloth.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm only cleaning the lipstick from your lips," The staff answered, confused of his actions. He always let them clean his face before an interview.

He thought of the lipstick you had on which was now on his lips.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in Lando's mischievous mind. With a playful smirk, he leaned closer to the staff member and whispered, "Leave a little lipstick on, just to remind everyone who truly won today."

The staff member couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's mischievous request. Knowing that Lando was the race's victor and had a certain charm that couldn't be resisted, they nodded and left a hint of lipstick on his lips, complying with his playful demand.

As Lando headed to the media section, he couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence, knowing that he had left his mark not only on the race but also on the hearts of the fans.

As Lando approached the interviewer, he confidently took the microphone in his hand. The male interviewer greeted him with a smile, ready to delve into Lando's victorious race and capture his electrifying energy for the fans.

Interviewer asked politely, "Congratulations on your incredible win, Lando! How does it feel to come out on top today?"

"Thank you! It feels absolutely amazing. The race was intense, but I stayed focused and pushed myself to the limit. The car was performing exceptionally well, and my team did an outstanding job with the strategy." Lando replied with, "It's a fantastic feeling to see all the hard work pay off."

"You certainly had everyone on the edge of their seats! Can you walk us through that nail-biting overtaking maneuver in the final lap?"

"Oh, that was a heart-stopping moment for sure! I saw an opportunity to make a move, and I knew I had to seize it. The adrenaline was pumping, and I went for it." Lando explained.

"The car responded perfectly, and I managed to make the pass stick. It was a risky move, but it paid off, and I couldn't be happier with the outcome."

"I can't help but notice the lipstick stain on your lips," The interviewer commented on.

Lando chuckled, his mischievous charm shining through. "Ah, yes, a little souvenir from the victory celebration," he replied with a wink.

"Just a small reminder of the exhilaration and triumph of this race." The interviewer smiled, intrigued by Lando's playful nature, and continued with the interview.

The interviewer laughed, finding Lando's playful nature endearing. "Well, it certainly adds a unique touch to your victory," they replied. "Now, let's talk about the reaction from your fans. Social media is buzzing with excitement over your win. How does it feel to have such a dedicated and passionate fanbase supporting you?"

Lando's smile widened as he replied, "I am incredibly grateful for my fans. Their support means the world to me. It's humbling to know that my performance on the track resonates with so many people. I couldn't ask for better support."

"As you were about to pass the chequered flag, who or what were yout thinking of?"

"As I approached the chequered flag, my mind was filled with a mix of emotions and thoughts. Of course, my family and friends were on my mind, but Y/N was definitely the one who occupied my thoughts the most throughout the race. Her support and encouragement gave me that extra push to go for the win." Lando answered with a smile, his voice filled with affection and gratitude.

"Was your motivation to get your victory kiss?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Lando said, pointing at his face with a grin. "That victory kiss from Y/N was definitely a motivating factor. Knowing that I had her waiting at the finish line made me push even harder."

"Well, I'll let you go celebrate your win," the interviewer said, acknowledging Lando's eagerness to savor his victory. "But before you go, one last question: what does this win mean for you and your racing career?"

"This win means everything to me and my racing career. It's a validation of all the hard work, dedication, and sacrifices that I've made to get to this point. It's a stepping stone towards achieving my ultimate goals and solidifying my place in the racing world."

As the camera stopped recording and the microphone was taken from him, the interviewer thanked Lando for his time and congratulated him once again on his impressive victory.

Lando ran over to the podium, a mixture of exhilaration and exhaustion coursing through his veins. As he reached for the trophy, a surge of pride washed over him.

This trophy symbolized not only his victory, but also the culmination of years of hard work, determination, and perseverance.

Lando held the trophy high above his head, basking in the cheers and applause from the crowd, knowing that this moment would forever be etched in his memory as one of his proudest achievements. . . .

As you sat in Lando's driver's room, waiting for him to finish with his interviews, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for his incredible achievement.

The way he spoke about you during the interview filled your heart with warmth, knowing that you were his biggest source of motivation and inspiration.

You couldn't wait to congratulate him in person and celebrate this momentous win together.

As you sat in Lando's driver's room, waiting for him to finish with his interviews, you couldn't help but remember the passionate kiss you shared before he had to leave for the race. Your finger grazed over your lips, still tingling from the lingering sensation.

Your hands were tangling in his sweaty hair, the sensation only adding to the exhilaration of the moment. The soft strands slipped through your fingers as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the taste and feel of him.

Your thoughts of the moment of the kiss were interrupted by the door opening and you quickly pulled your hand away from your lips, hoping no one had seen the intimate gesture.

It revealed a beaming Lando with the trophy in his hands. His eyes met yours, and a wide grin spread across his face as he rushed towards you, engulfing you in a tight embrace.

His head was buried into your neck, and you could feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest. The scent of victory and adrenaline filled the air as you held each other tightly, savoring the moment of triumph.

The world around you faded away, and in that embrace, you knew that you were not only celebrating his win, but also the deep bond and love that you shared.

"Can we continue what we stopped before?" Lando asked, his voice low and husky against your neck. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his words stirred up the same desire that had ignited between you earlier.

With a mischievous smile, you whispered back, "I think we can definitely make some time for that, especially after this incredible victory."

The anticipation in Lando's eyes mirrored your own as you both shared a knowing look, ready to relish in the passionate moments that awaited you.

Lando's hands were curling around your waist, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and you couldn't help but melt into his strong arms.

In that moment, all you wanted was to lose yourself in his touch and continue where you left off, savoring every delicious second of the passion that awaited you both.

Your lips molded together in a perfect harmony, the softness of his contrasting with the passion in his kiss. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, a mixture of mint and desire.

As your fingers entwined in his hair, you reveled in the sensation of the sweat-soaked strands slipping through your grasp, adding to the intoxicating thrill of the moment. The world around you ceased to exist as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the electric connection that pulsed between you.

The pressure of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that could only be quenched by his touch. Your hearts beat in sync, the rhythm of desire pounding through your chests.

Time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the taste, the feel, and the sheer intoxication of his kiss.

Every nerve ending in your body came alive, as if electrified by the raw passion that flowed between you.

Lando pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, trust me, baby," he said with a sly grin, "We're just getting started. I have plenty more in store for you tonight."

His teasing words sent a surge of anticipation through you, and you couldn't help but giggle in response.

"Is that so?" you countered, your voice dripping with flirtation. "Well, I can't wait to see what you have in mind. But first, let's celebrate this victory properly."

The air crackled with excitement as you both leaned in for another passionate kiss, ready to explore the depths of desire together. . . .

[cheapshrimpysheep]

For a Quarter of a Second

SUMMARY: Night Raven College lost in the Relay race by just a quarter of a second. They ended up in 2nd place. Who came in 1st? Royal Sword Academy. They were so frustrated. And they need you.

CHARACTERS: Track and Field Club 🏃(Deuce Spade / Jack Howl)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 840 words per character.

COMMENTS: I enjoyed writing "But… We Lost…" for the Basketball Club, and I think readers also found it interesting that I went the route of them losing against RSA. So I think I'm going to do this for the clubs, or at least for the sports clubs. I like scenarios where the reader comforts them.

I hope you enjoy it too. 😉

CONTEXT OF THE TECHNICAL PARTS: According to my research (and if any information is wrong, blame my AI assistant: Gemini) Track and Field usually takes place over 2 days. On the first day there are morning and afternoon events and on the second day there are morning, afternoon and evening events.

The events that end the competition on the evening of the second day are usually the Relay and the Marathon, with the Marathon being the last of them all. But in this case and to fit in more with Deuce and Jack's cards, I decided that the last event would be the Relay.

CONTEXT OF THE STORY: It was an inter-school Track and Field Tournament. But the only school that mattered, the only one that could really compete with Night Raven College for 1st place was Royal Sword Academy.

The competition was close, at least in the eyes of the NRC athletes. What unnerved them most was how carefree the RSA students were and the vibe of team spirit and "the important thing is to have fun" bullshit.

At the end of the first day RSA was narrowly ahead. On the second day, things evened out on NRC's side. When the sun starts to set and the evening arrives, it's time for the last event, the relay race. The two schools competed for 1st place. He was last in the race, the one with the "responsibility" of coming in first. But when he was just arriving, the RSA athlete managed to pass him by a quarter of a second and finish first. Causing NRC to take 2nd place and lose to RSA... again.

No matter how much effort he makes, Deuce can't hide how bad and angry he is. He stays to receive the silver medal and as long as he is forced to stay there. But as soon as he can get out of public view, you know you should go check on him.

Not only do you see him walking away from the crowd, but the people who see his face moving away from him as if they are afraid. You try to follow him, but eventually lose him when he goes into an area with trees and no people. You see something shining in the sun on the ground. It's his silver medal. You pick it up.

You receive a message. It's from Deuce's mother. Says: “Hi (Y/N), can you tell Deuce to call me back as soon as he can? I want to congratulate him!” And then another message: “And... could you check on him for me?” You replied to her, to reassure her that you are going to do just that.

And then you hear a scream of frustration, drowned out by the voices of the crowd watching the competition, and something hitting a tree. You follow the sound.

When you get to him, you see him with his fist pressed against the trunk of a tree as if he had just hit it, his coat on the ground and you hear angry murmurs as if he was cursing himself.

You take a step towards him, making a noise, which makes him turn his head towards you. In the second before he realized it was you, you could see the look on his face that made everyone move away from him as he passed by. That angry look from his delinquent days. But then, in the blink of an eye, his expression changes, to the Deuce you know.

“(Y/N)! I didn't know it was you. I’m sorry. Really.” There is a short pause. He smiles sadly at you. “I should have known you would come check on me... Thank you...”

You tell him the race was amazing. That he was great!

“Not great enough, apparently...” His expression was a mix of anger at having lost and sad at you seeing him like this.

“Great enough for second place out of all schools.” You say. “Great enough to make you mother proud.” he looks at you with wide eyes. “I know this because she texted me. She wants you to call her as soon as you can so she can congratulate you. It doesn't matter if it's gold or silver, it could even be bronze, who wouldn't be proud to see their son on the podium?” His eyes start to water. “She is proud of you, Deuce.” You reach out your hand to him, holding the silver medal. “I am proud of you.”

And finally the tears run down his cheeks. He extends his arms, not to take the medal, but to hug you. A warm and silent hug, that lasts for a while, since you are letting him “use” you to calm himself down.

When he slowly breaks the hug and goes to take the medal in your hand, you see the scratches on his knuckles. “AH! Deuce!”

“Sorry, I mean, don't worry, this is nothing.” he says stumbling over his words “Sorry for worrying you I mean. But you don't need to. My fingers will be fine tomorrow. They've been through worse.” He smiles, trying to reassure you.

He looks at the second place medal and then back at you. “Thank you. And... you’re right. Being on the podium is already a lot. And second place is just one place behind first. I'm going to keep training until I can show you, my mom and the school the gold medal!”

He smiles at you and you smile back. Then you remind him that, speaking of his mother, he should call her. And you should go back before your friends start worrying about you two.

“Oh yes, I'll do that right now. But, um...” he suddenly blushes “before you go...” He gets closer to you, as if he was gaining courage to do something, he leans in and, as if it was a last minute change of plans, he kisses your cheek. “Thank you. Again. For... everything.”

“It wasn't the cheek you wanted to kiss, was it?” Your question only made him blush even more. Poor boy, he's still new to these stuff. But seeing your inviting smile gives him the courage he needs.

“You’re right. Again. I shouldn't shy away, should I?” He gets even closer to you, holds your hands and kisses your lips gently.

As soon as he saw he had lost, he didn't SAY or DO anything, but he couldn't stop himself from showing an expression of wolfish aggressiveness. His ears were back, his teeth were exposed and whoever was close to him could hear his growl.

But he knew he needed to save that for later. He had already made NRC lose, he couldn't show a lack of fair play and make the school's image even worse.

He stays to receive the silver medal and even congratulates his opponent from RSA, but if you pay attention, his tail lay still against his legs. Like he was defensive or holding something back.

Just before he completely left the public view, you saw his body expression change, becoming more aggressive, and you know you should go check on him.

Because of his appearance and serious expression, people always behaved as if they were a little afraid. So it wasn't exactly unusual when you saw him moving away from the crowd, to also see some people kind of avoiding him.

You try to follow him, but eventually lose him. You wonder where he could have gone. To a secluded place? A place where others wouldn't see him? You think the best place would be a place with trees and then you remember Jack told you once: “My favorite place to run is the woods behind campus. There's no paved walkway back there, so it's perfect for building your core muscles.”

The woods behind campus were in the direction where Jack seemed to be heading when you lost sight of him. So you decided to go there to check it out. It wasn't like Jack was an unpredictable person, anyway. And you were correct.

You saw him between the trees with his back to you. He was stretching. You also noticed something shining on the ground, you look and see his silver medal on the floor, above his jacket. You don't make a sound, you barely even move and yet, his ears turn back before he turns around and sees you.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” You say “I came to see how you were.”

“I’m fine. Do not worry about me.” He says with almost no emotion in his voice. You cross your arms and look at him as if asking him if he really thought you would believe that. He sighs. “Listen, I'm frustrated about losing, for sure, but other than that I'm fine. I came here because I wanted to take the opportunity while my muscle memory is fresh to try to better understand how I lost. It won't take long, I promise.”

You decide to let him do his thing, but tell him you'll stay there with him until he's ready to come back and you'll do it together.

“You're so stubborn.” He says wagging his tail. He smiled. “Okay, keep my things then. And stay behind those trees... Please.” He blushes slightly. And you remember the first time he said something like this to you: ‘If you want to watch me practice, stay behind those trees. I'm not worried about you or anything; it's just distracting having you close by.’

You pick up the medal and his jacket, probably even cleaning it from having been on the ground, and wait. You see him running from side to side with a focused expression. When he finally decides to finish the exercise he returns to you.

“Thank you.” He tells you, taking his jacket back. He was going to put it over his shoulders, but a breeze passed over the two of you, making you shiver a little. He automatically draped his jacket over your shoulders instead. “We should go back before the others start looking for us.” He puts his hand on your back to indicate that you should go first.

“Wait.” You say, turning to him with the silver medal in your hands. You stretch your arms to slip the ribbon over his head and place it back on his chest. “I hadn't congratulated you yet.” And you tell him how incredible you thought he was in the race.

He blushes and wags his tail like crazy. “C'mon, there's no need for that...” he rubs the back of his neck. “T-thank you... but even though I'm good” He holds the medal and makes it shine in the faint rays of the sunset as he looks at it. “I'm still not good enough. I made us lose to Royal Sword Academy of all schools.” His hand starts to press harder on the medal.

You hold his hand with both of your hands, and tell him that yes, he may have lost to RSA, but it was also the only school he lost to. If he could have looked back, he would have seen that the other schools barely even had a chance. Second place still means one of the best, it's still a podium place. And you know he can see pride in that.

He smiles, that proud smile that suits him so well and that stands out from his usual neutral expression. He cups your face and puts his forehead against yours. He could say thank you again, he could say he loves you, but like the other Savanaclaw students, he's a person of actions. So, instead of using his lips to talk, he uses them to kiss yours.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with another Merlin au idea! This story was actually supposed to be a part of my fic "What to do When an Eldritch God Decides That You're Friend-Shaped", but I decided that this idea didn't really mesh well with the rest of that fic and would probably be better off as its own separate story.

And I will say, in my opinion, that this is probably one of my best au ideas yet. I had so much fun just writing this! Also, heads up, this post is going to be very long because I really love this idea! So, I hope you all enjoy! :D

In this au, which is set post-Camlann, Morgana wasn't able to take Merlin's magic away before the battle, so Merlin was able to save Arthur and defeat both Mordred and Morgana without revealing his magic. He was also able to prevent Gwaine's death since he kept Morgana preoccupied in the battle. So, Camelot is saved, and everything is great!

Except, Arthur has some questions. He knows from Morgana's furious screams during the battle that she was killed by a sorcerer named "Emrys", but Arthur never saw him. And Arthur recognized that name from when Morgana taunted him years ago by saying "Not even Emrys can save you now."

Arthur knows that he owes his kingdom and perhaps his life to this Emrys guy, but he knows nothing about him other than that he's a very powerful sorcerer, more powerful than Morgana. This frightens Arthur, as he doesn't know what Emrys wants or why he helps Arthur. For all Arthur knows, Emrys could be just biding his time to take over Camelot and was simply doing away with his competition by killing Morgana.

After things calmed down after the battle of Camlann, Arthur decides that he needs more information on Emrys. Who he is, what are his motives, how can they find him, and a million other details that Arthur needs to ensure his people's safety. He first goes to Gaius for information, but Gaius can tells him that, according to the myths of the Old Religion, Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth and is held in high regard by the druids.

Gaius's answer only heightens Arthur's alarm, as the prospect of having to fight to most powerful sorcerer ever is terrifying to him. However, he still doesn't have any good information on Emrys, so he goes to the next best source: the druids.

Thanks to Arthur making peace with the druids after promising the ghost of the young druid boy and permitting them to use their magic for peaceful purposes only, there were a couple druid camps not far from Camelot. Arthur picked the closer one and took a day to travel there alongside Merlin and a few knights in the hopes of finally getting some answers.

When they arrive at the camp, they're met with worried glances and panicked faces, but the druid elders welcome them into the camp nonetheless, offering them all a seat by their campfire and warm meal. Once they got settled and Arthur exchanged some pleasantries with Iseldir, the druid chieftain, Arthur was finally able to ask what had been plaguing him for weeks.

"Iseldir, I know that your people hold a sorcerer named Emrys in high regard, and it's come to my attention that he was responsible for Morgana's defeat at Camlann and possibly on other occasions. Please, I need to know more about him and why he's chosen to help me."

Several people froze and tensed at Arthur's questions, including Merlin. Arthur sighed internally at Merlin's usual panic. He knew that Merlin could become easily scared in the face of magic, so he should have knows that his friend wouldn't approve of Arthur actively seeking out a dangerous sorcerer.

After a short, tense pause, Iseldir clears his throat and responds.

"I'd be happy to answer some of your questions about the god of magic!"

Wait, did Arthur hear that correctly? God of magic?! Arthur, in his shock, blurted out,

"Emrys is a god?! I had heard that he was a powerful sorcerer, not some deity!"

Iseldir chuckled a bit before responding,

"Emrys is indeed the god of magic in the Old Religion, the son of the Triple Goddess herself! He is not simply the master of magic, but rather magic itself, its very incarnation!"

That... was a rather frightening prospect, and it confused Arthur even further. Why would magic itself fight against Morgana? Why take Arthur's side? And, perhaps more importantly, was Arthur going to have to fight a god in order to protect his kingdom?!

Iseldir continued before Arthur's hysterical thought could bubble up to the surface.

"As I said, I'm happy to answer your questions, but please know that there are some secrets that Emrys has entrusted our people with that we cannot divulge, and there are some truths that might be... difficult for you in particular."

Arthur frowned at Iseldir's answer, unsure of what to make of it.

"What do you mean it might be difficult for me in particular?"

Iseldir winced a bit, grimacing like he didn't know how to respond without warranting a negative response.

"Well, there are some elements of Emrys's story that intertwine with your own life in some ways that you might not expect or be ready to hear at this point. Your life and Emrys's are highly connected, King Arthur, even if you don't know the extent of it yet."

Arthur's eyes widened at this admission. His life was connected to this mysterious god of the old religion? How could that possibly be true? He had didn't even know that Emrys was a god until a few moments ago! However, as curious as he was about what Iseldir could be talking about, he had more pressing matters at hand.

"We can discuss how I am connected to Emrys later. For now, I need answers to more important questions. Why does Emrys help Camelot? What is he hoping to get out of it?"

Iseldir looked much happier to answer this question, speaking calmly with a serene smile on his face.

"Emrys had many reasons to stand against the witch. She frequently hunted down and killed more peaceful magic users who did not share her taste for vengeance and bloodshed, including our fellow druids and even the Catha, a small sect of priests of the Old Religion that followed Emrys's will. Emrys fought against Morgana to protect these followers of his from her wrath."

Arthur nodded at Iseldir's explanation. As odd as it felt to have something in common with a god of the Old Religion, he could understand very well the drive to protect his own people. If Emrys's people were also in danger because of Morgana, it made sense for him to join forces with Arthur, even if Arthur was unaware of that alliance. Seeing Arthur's understanding, Iseldir continued with his explanation.

"Emrys also fought against Morgana in order to punish her for her hubris and use of dark magic. There are certain dark arts that take the power that Emrys grants us and twist it into a horrible force, bound only by the will of its user. Such arts are expressly forbidden by Emrys, and he cannot control what sorcerers do with such magic after its been corrupted so thoroughly. Morgana frequently used such forbidden arts and claimed the title of high priestess while ignoring the will of the gods, even the one that she drew her power from. Emrys is normally slow to anger, but for such transgressions, he became furious with Morgana and sought to punish her for treason against magic itself."

Arthur understood that a little bit less, but he could also relate to Emrys's reasoning as a king who had also had to punish some of his own citizens for treason.

"I can see that Emrys stood opposed to Morgana, but does Camelot have anything to fear from him? I can understand why he might not be very forgiving towards us considering my father's actions during his reign."

To Arthur's immense relief, Iseldir shook his head slightly before providing an explanation.

"No, Camelot has nothing to fear from Emrys. He knows that not everyone in Camelot agreed with your father's actions, and he can see progress that you've made since the end of your father's reign. In fact, Emrys has assisted Camelot many times even when Morgana wasn't involved!"

Arthur reeled backwards in shock at Iseldir words. The god of magic, helping Camelot freely? Despite everything his father had done?! Iseldir's explanation forced Arthur to re-evaluate what he knew of the Old Religion.

He had always seen the Old Religion and its gods as monstrous and barbaric. However, that wasn't the case, was it? Emrys had saved the kingdom that sought to destroy him. The Disir had shown Mordred mercy, even though Arthur had rejected their offer. The White Goddess had restored Guinevere's soul at the Cauldron of Arianrhod and healed her of Morgana's curse. Were all of the gods and goddesses of the Old Religion so benevolent and kind? Had Arthur misunderstood the Old Religion for his entire life?

However, Arthur was still shocked at Emrys in particular choosing to help Camelot, supposedly with no ulterior motives besides a common enemy in Morgana. That was how Camelot had survived against such odds? How could it be that magic itself was on their side?!

As Arthur looked at Iseldir again however, he noticed that the druid chieftain's face had pulled into a grimace again. Arthur certainly knew that look, he had seen it on the faces of his council members frequently.

"There's something that you aren't telling me, isn't there? I know that there are some things that you may be hesitant to divulge, but please, I must know everything I can about Emrys, for the safety of my kingdom."

Iseldir paused again, sighing deeply. He sat still for a moment, as if pondering how to proceed.

"Truthfully, there is another reason why Emrys assisted you, but it involves what I spoke of earlier, wen I said that your life and Emrys's are connected in ways that you may not expect. I am willing to tell you such things, but these truths might be hard for you to hear."

Arthur leaned forward, his curiosity piqued again.

"I have learned many uncomfortable truths about my own life through the years, so I will ask you: how could my life be connected to the god of magic?"

Iseldir nodded at Arthur's words and began speaking with a serious, nearly grim, voice.

"I assume that you are familiar with how life is exchanged in the practice of the Old Religion? For any life give, a life must be taken."

Arthur flinched backwards at Iseldir's words, already recognizing what topic was about to be brought up. He had come to terms with the truth of his birth years ago, but hearing it again didn't make it any easier. Blinking back tears, Arthur responded.

"Yes, I... I know. I'm aware that my father made a deal with the priestess Nimueh to secure an heir, and I know that my mother was the one who paid the price in the end."

Arthur heard quiet gasps coming from the knights around him, while Merlin silently put a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. Iseldir, after a moment, continued with his explanation.

"You are correct in your understanding, however, there is one part of the story that you are unaware of."

Arthur jolted in shock at Iseldir's words. There was more to the story of his birth? Frantically, Arthur started asking questions.

"What do you mean? What haven't I been told?"

Iseldir patiently and softly answered Arthur's questions, trying to soften the crushing revelation that he was about to tell Arthur.

"The balance of life and death is at the very core of the Old Religion. However, it is not the power of creation. The power over life and death was used by the high priestesses to resurrect and bring life to someone who has already passed. To magically create a new life, a new soul, from nothing is an act of creation, something that takes far more power than manipulating the balance of life and death. An act of creation takes the power of a god."

"I... I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?"

"I am sorry that you had to find out this way, King Arthur. But in order to successfully ensure that your mother and father had an heir, Nimueh called upon the power of her patron god: Emrys."

This time, it was Arthur was gasped in shock at this information, hysteria rising in him once again.

"Are you telling me that Emrys was responsible for my very creation?! That it was his power that created me?!"

"More than that, I'm afraid. To create your soul, Emrys did more than just weave his own power into a life. He cut out a shard of his own soul and breathed life into it, thus creating you. While we don't know his reasons for doing so, Emrys created you from a part of his own being."

Arthur felt like his breath had just been punched out of him. What... what did this mean?!

Iseldir must have seen his panic, and further clarified.

"In the eyes of the gods, this made Emrys your true creator and, in the eyes of the magical world, your father."

At those words, Arthur stopped breathing entirely. Unbeknownst to Iseldir, who kept going with his explanation, Arthur entire worldview was collapsing in on itself.

Magic itself was his father?! What did that even mean?!

And oh god was he even a Pendragon? Did he even have a legitimate claim to the throne of Camelot?!

Arthur's panic was so strong that he could barely feel how Merlin's supportive hand on his shoulder was now clenching hard enough to bruise.

(Meanwhile, inside Merlin's panicking mind: WTF??! Oh shit I owed HOW MUCH to Uther Pendragon in child support?! Am I a deadbeat dad to my own best friend??)

"This is why you triumphed over any foe, magical or otherwise. Emrys forbade any magic from truly harming you, and he rose to protect you when you needed him. He will always fight by your side, as you are, in many ways, a part of him."

Iseldir paused, now noticing Arthur's hyperventilating.

"I assume that you have many questions following this news. Please, feel free to ask anything, there's no need to be scared by this!"

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to keep from laugh hysterically. No need to be scared?! His entire life had just been turned on its head!

"If... if Emrys is my true father, what about Uther? Do I even have a claim to my throne?"

"Ah, there's no need to worried about that. While Emrys might be your father in terms of your soul, Uther is still your father in terms of blood. Do not fret, King Arthur, you are still of Pendragon blood and have every rightful claim to your throne."

Arthur calmed down a bit at Iseldir's words, breathing much easier now. This explained so many things about Arthur's life, how he had survived in situations that he by all means shouldn't have. Still, he had many questions for Iseldir.

"If I am truly the son of magic itself, am I even human, or am I some sort of demigod?"

At this question, Iseldir shook his head.

"That, I truly do not know. I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone knows the answer to that question except for Emrys himself."

Finally, an idea occurred to Arthur. He stiffened as he blurted out,

"Can I speak with him then? Is there any way to summon him?"

As soon as the idea took root in Arthur's mind, he couldn't get it out. Emrys had to have been looking out for Arthur for many years now, using his power to protect him. This notion of having a secret father who had been caring for him for years almost felt like having a second chance.

Arthur never had the relationship with Uther that he wanted. There was no affection, no bonding, and no comfort to be found there. Only expectations and demands.

But Emrys had apparently been helping Arthur for years with no expectations and no demands. Arthur had fantasized as a young boy about what it would have been like to have a kind, caring father, the kind he saw doting on their children in the marketplace. Now, it almost seemed like he had another chance of having a father, one who truly cared about him!

So naturally, Arthur wanted to meet him! Both the druids and the knights look slightly confused at Arthur's excited outburst about wanting to meet Emrys, but the druids tell him that they have everything that they need to perform a summoning ritual, but they'd need some time to set it up.

Arthur asks if they can set it up for him, and they nod and walk away to begin preparations. Meanwhile, Merlin and the knights ask Arthur if he's just lost his mind. They know that this must be shocking for him, but does he need to summon a god?!

Merlin shows the most vocal opposition to Arthur's plan, saying that they still don't even know if they can trust Emrys. All they have to go on is the word of the druids, and they seem pretty biased in Emrys's favor.

Arthur smiles and tells Merlin that he appreciates his protectiveness, but this is something that Arthur needs to do. He needs this closure, this chance to connect with his last living parent.

Arthur does take Merlin's concerns into consideration though, and orders for his men to leave the camp and take Merlin with them, so they're far away and protected if Emrys turns out to be untrustworthy.

(As the knights drag a struggling Merlin away, Merlin is frantically talking with Iseldir in his mind about what the summoning ritual entails and what it looks like. If he magically pops up next to Arthur right as Arthur does a ritual to summon Emrys, even Arthur would be able to put two and two together!

Luckily, Iseldir informs him that the summoning ritual will summon his soul, not his body, and Arthur wouldn't be able to recognize him. Still, Merlin tried to talk the druids out of the ritual, because Merlin doesn't want his soul to get yanked out of his body! But there was little that the druids could do with Arthur insisting on the ritual.)

After preparing the materials for the ritual, the druids take Arthur back into a tent to get him ready. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest with both excitement and fear as the druids walked him through what he had to do.

First, they gave him some plain but comfortable robes to change in to. They explained that Emrys preferred his followers to come to him in the garments of peace, not war, so his armor, chainmail, and weapons would have to be left in the tent.

After changing into the robes, Arthur felt strangely both vulnerable and comforted. As the druids rubbed some flowery smelling oil into his arms and then led him to a small wooden altar, Arthur couldn't help comparing this experience to approaching Uther.

Whenever he was meeting with his father, Arthur was expected to show no weakness, no flaws. He had to look the part of the warrior prince, trained since birth and hardened by battle. However, here with Emrys, Arthur was dressed in comfortable clothes and told to simply ask for Emrys's presence before the altar. He didn't need a sacrifice or penance or any sort of challenge to summon Emrys. All that the druids told him was to "call for him, and Emrys will answer."

Placing one hand gently on the wooden surface of the intricately carved altar, Arthur cleared his throat wetly before saying aloud to the empty space in front of him,

"Emrys, I'm... I'm not sure if you're here, but I'm your- your son, Arthur. You probably know me already, though, since you've been helping me and protecting me for a long time now. I- I wanted to thank you for your help. So, I would appreciate it if you could appear, so I could meet you and thank you in person."

There, Arthur thought that was a pretty good introduction! This was his first time meeting his new father, so he needed to make a good first impression!

Arthur stood, awkwardly shifting on his feet as he tried to push down his disappointment with each passing moment that Emrys did not appear. Maybe Arthur did it wrong? Maybe Emrys hadn't heard him? Or maybe Emrys had heard him, but was disappointed in Arthur and deemed him a weak son, just like Uther had?

As Arthur tried to swallow down his hurt, suddenly, there was a bright flash of light above the altar. It was so bright that Arthur had to throw his hand in front of his eyes and turn away, but his heart leapt at the sight.

Was this it?! Was he about to meet his creator and have another chance at having a father?

As soon as he could, Arthur lowered his hand and opened his eyes, anxiously awaiting his first glimpse at Emrys! As the light died down, Arthur was able to make out the outline of something...

As the light slowly dwindled, Arthur could see a bright, glowing ball of golden light, very similar to the one that had saved him from that cave so many years ago, floating above the altar. His eyes widened as he realized what, or more likely who, this light must be.

Emrys was a god after all, Arthur really shouldn't have assumed that he'd look like a human. The god of magic taking a human form, what a crazy idea!

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Arthur called out to the light.

"Emrys? Is that you?"

At his words, the light floated down from the altar until it was hovering right in front of Arthur, an arm's reach away. Arthur fought the urge to reach out and touch the light, just to see if it was real and not just a product of his own wishful thinking.

After a couple seconds, the ball of light flashed, and Arthur heard what sounded like multiple voices coming from it, speaking in unison.

"Hello Arthur. I'm so glad to finally be able to meet you. I am Emrys."

(Elsewhere, Merlin mentally patted himself on the back for making his soul-self sound sufficiently inhuman and speak in a manner that was completely unlike his usual self. Arthur couldn't possibly figure his identity out now!)

Arthur let out a sound that was something between a joyful laugh and a sob. Emrys actually came! Clearing his throat, Arthur tried to calm down his excitement and nerves and put on his best diplomat voice. He needed to start off strong here!

"I'm glad that we could meet as well. It's come to my attention that I have many things to thank you for, including Camelot's victory over Morgana in our latest battle. You might have saved all of Camelot, and I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Emrys silently floated in place for a moment, making Arthur sweat with nervousness. Had he already blown his one chance of having a caring parent?

Finally, Emrys's... orb body (what else was Arthur supposed to call it?!) glowed again and spoke with his multiple voices overlapping in harmony.

"You do not owe me anything, Arthur. There are no debts between us. We are family, tied together by our very souls. You never have to feel indebted to me for protecting you and Camelot. I do it not for a reward or recognition, but because I care for you."

Arthur's eyes misted over as he took in Emrys's words. How many times had he wished to hear anything like that from Uther? How many nights had he lied awake wondering what unconditional love from a parent would feel like?

As tears started silently rolling down Arthur's face, Emrys drifted closer to him. Arthur was startled by this move and didn't really know how to respond. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands to ball of light, unsure of what to do.

Slowly, the light moved towards Arthur's outreached hands. Arthur almost expected to flinch back upon contact, but instead, when his hands finally touched the ball of light itself, he was only met with a warm, comforting sensation, and he instantly relaxed and leaned into it. The only thing he could compare it to were those warm hugs that Merlin gave him whenever he felt down, which he would never admit to Merlin that he enjoyed.

Arthur gently guided the light closer, until he was hugging it against his chest and that wonderful warm fuzzy feeling was spreading through his entire body. Arthur wondered if this counted as getting a hug from his father, and then immediately decided that the answer was yes. And his new father apparently gave very good hugs.

Arthur stayed with Emrys for several more minutes, until the sun was setting. From there, Emrys told him that he had spent too much time in the mortal realm and couldn't hold his form for much longer without taking time to rest. Panicking, Arthur asked if he would be able to see Emrys again, he couldn't lose his new father so soon after meeting him!

Emrys reassured him that they'd see each other again soon and that he'd be by Arthur's side the whole time, even if Arthur couldn't see him. Comforted by this news, Arthur bid his new father farewell, and the ball of light slowly dissipated.

Arthur then returned to Merlin and his knights, who had a million questions for Arthur. Arthur answered their burning questions as best he could, and they were relieved to see that Arthur was safe and not scarred by the experience of talking to the god of magic.

The next day, they returned to Camelot, and Arthur soon realized that even if he couldn't see Emrys himself, he could certainly the effects that Emrys had on the world around him.

Arthur never fell sick, his rooms were never too hot or too cold, his muscles were never sore from training, his attackers that snuck into the castle never managed to land a hit on him, his kingdom's crops prospered, and a million other things went right in Arthur's life, and for the very first time, Arthur understood.

Magic loved him. And, more importantly, his father loved him.

And it didn't escape other people's notice either. He had told the knights that he had brought with him to the druid camp to not discuss the revelation of his relationship to Emrys, but one knight got drunk at the tavern and told his friend, and someone overheard, and now everyone in the kingdom had heard the news that King Arthur was apparently the son of a god.

The fact that Arthur had secretly prayed for Emrys's help when Gaius reported about a deadly plague in the lower town, only for Emrys to immediately appear again as a ball of light in the middle of a council meeting in front of dozens of witnesses didn't help Arthur keep it a secret either.

(Meanwhile, Merlin hears all of Arthur's prayers for Emrys. He's able to take care of most of Arthur's concerns just as Merlin, but a very powerful/emotional prayer from Arthur actually summons him in his "Emrys" form, leading to some awkward moments, but he makes it work for Arthur's sake.)

On the bright side of Arthur's heritage being revealed, other kingdoms were now much more open to peaceful negotiations and trade deals.

And on one occasion where a very foolish king tried to declare war on Arthur, the enemy king's army only made it a hundred yards of Camelot's forces before the earth itself broke open into a wide chasm that started swallowing the leaders of the enemy army whole. No one was stupid enough to attempt an attack on Camelot after that.

Life goes on like this for about a year, until Arthur catches Merlin using magic for some mundane purpose. Arthur is shocked of course, but magic has been legal for a while now. When he questions Merlin on where he learned magic from, Merlin stammers and says "Well... uh, Emrys..."

Arthur cut Merlin off, yelling because apparently his father was teaching Merlin magic behind his back?! What was that about!

Merlin then decides to take this misunderstanding and roll with it, because there's no way in hell that he's looking Arthur in the eyes and telling him that he's actually Arthur's magical father.

Merlin spins a story about how Emrys had been slowly teaching Merlin magic so Merlin could help Arthur out and always have someone nearby with magic to protect him! Arthur accepts this story, but is secretly a little bit jealous. How come Emrys chose to teach Merlin magic and not his own son?

After Arthur asks Emrys about this, Emrys apologizes to Arthur, saying that he didn't know if Arthur would be interested. He then starts trying to teach Arthur magic (to pretty much no success). To further apologize to Arthur, Emrys gives him a gift! Emrys had apparently heard about how Uther had forbidden Arthur from having a pet as a child despite Arthur begging for one, so Emrys decided to remedy this by giving Arthur a baby dragon to take care of and to train to protect Camelot.

Everyone else is alarmed by this, but Arthur is almost moved to tears because he loves the little dragon so much already!

And this au is already wayyyy too long, so I'll cut it off there! I'm tempted to call this the "Arthur gets catfished into a healthy parental relationship" au lol!

I hope you all enjoyed this au! Sorry about it being longer than usual, but I had a lot that I wanted to write about this au idea! And if you want to see even more of this au, feel free to let me know if you'd like a continuation!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my (very long) ramblings! :D

[onlyhereforthestories]

Football Cookie! (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Day 13 wooooo. I actually think the titles are becoming the hardest part. This one suckssssss. But enjoy the story again was a fun one to write.

The kitchen was alive with the scents of vanilla and cinnamon, the hum of soft holiday music playing in the background and the main kitchen lights were bright overhead.  Alexia stood across from you, her gaze fixed on the recipe card perched precariously against a jar of sugar. A recipe she had printed out because last time you had baked together her phone had ended up in the batter and she had to get a new one.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, so we need flour, sugar, eggs…” she murmured, tapping the card lightly as she spoke.

“Relax, chef,” you teased, nudging her elbow as you poured flour into a mixing bowl. “We’re baking cookies, not preparing for the Great British Bake Off.”

She grinned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, but these are cookies for the team,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “They’ve got to be perfect.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by her determination. “Alexia, we’re literally handing out sugar-loaded, frosting-covered holiday treats. If they’re anything short of perfect, I’m sure they’ll forgive us.”

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “Okay that might be true. But if any of these cookies come out burnt or misshapen, I’m blaming you.”

With a mock gasp, you placed a hand over your heart. “I see how it is. Throw me under the bus for a few crooked gingerbread arms, huh?”

Laughing, she leaned over to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Alright, alright, team effort. Let’s make these cookies the best Barca’s ever seen.”

Together, you began mixing up the dough, following the recipe step-by-step. It seemed simple enough, but with Alexia’s competitive spirit, each time you slowed down or tried to shake your aching hand out she was on you. Like in a game if you jogged too slowly back to position, she gave you a look or said your name with that tone, making you speed back up or carry on despite the soreness taking over your palm.

When the dough had been mixed and kneaded, it was set in the fridge to chill. You were about to take a seat at the island when you heard the clearing of a throat. “Don’t even think about it. We need to clean this mess before the dough is ready to roll. And if I’m cleaning then you are too.” You knew she was joking with you slightly, and if you needed to sit, she wouldn’t actually make you get up to clean. But you also knew she would clean now, and you would never let her do that alone.

After cleaning the mixing mess, the dough was chilled. You both began rolling it out on the counter, dusting the surface with flour to keep it from sticking. Before long, flour was everywhere once again, on the counter, on your clothes, and even in your hair.

“This is why we should have left the cleaning till after we were done making. Now we are just going to have to clean up the mess we just have again.”

Alexia held up a handful of flour, a mischievous look on her face.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

With a smirk, she tossed it in your direction, leaving you dusted in a cloud of flour. You sputtered, reaching out to grab a handful of flour in retaliation, but she quickly ducked out of range, laughing.

“Alexia Putellas, you’re asking for it,” you said, also laughing as you tossed a little flour back at her. Before long, you were both covered in it, giggling like kids as the kitchen transformed into a powdered winter wonderland.

Once you’d both called a truce and brushed as much flour off as possible ready to sweep and hoover up later, you returned to the task at hand. Alexia grabbed a variety of cookie cutters, stars, trees, snowflakes, even one shaped like a football. She handed you the football cutter with a grin.

“Thought it’d be fitting,” she said, winking.

You smiled, pressing the cookie cutter into the dough. “And here I thought you’d want them all to look like trophies.”

She rolled her eyes, though you could see the amusement dancing in her gaze. “Trophies are great, but it’s much more about being part of the team and playing the sport we love, right?”

She was very right, and you nodded along to what she said sending her a smile at the sentiment.

With the cookies cut out and spread onto baking sheets, you slid them into the oven and set a timer, giving yourselves a well-deserved break. As you waited, you leaned against the counter with Alexia, both of you sipping on mugs of mulled wine you’d set up to heat earlier. With the sweet smell of the cookies baking filling the air, the comfort of Alexias presence next to you and your fingers wrapped around the warm mug, you couldn’t dream of a better place to be.

“So,” you said, nudging her slightly, “any predictions on which of the team is going to be most impressed with our masterpiece cookies?”

Alexia grinned. “Oh, I can already see Patri’s face lighting up. She’s got a serious sweet tooth. And Clàudia? She’ll love anything we give her, but I think the football cookies might be a hit with her.”

“Good point,” you said, picturing the reactions of your teammates. “Ingrid will probably love the fact that we’re even doing this at all. Though she’ll probably tease you if they’re not perfect.”

Alexia laughed, rolling her eyes. “Let her. I’ll just make sure to give her one of the best-looking ones.”

When the timer chimed, you and Alexia excitedly pulled the trays of cookies from the oven, marvelling at how they’d turned out. For the most part, they were solid, a little uneven here and there, but golden brown and delicious looking. Some had spread into oddly shaped blobs, though, making both of you burst into laughter.

“I think this one was supposed to be a snowflake,” you said, holding up a misshapen cookie that looked like a lopsided star.

Alexia snorted, taking it from you and giving it a look of mock admiration. “A work of art.”

As you let the cookies cool, you both began preparing the frosting and decorations. Alexia was surprisingly meticulous, carefully spreading an even layer of white frosting on each cookie before adding red and green sprinkles.

You, on the other hand, went for creativity over precision, drawing little designs on the cookies with the icing, though some of them were less successful than others.

After a while, you noticed Alexia had gotten quiet, focused intently on one cookie. She was decorating a soccer ball-shaped one, adding a tiny Barca logo in the middle with red and blue icing. Her tongue poked out slightly as she concentrated, and you couldn’t help but smile at how serious she looked.

“Taking cookie decorating to a whole new level, are we?” you teased, leaning over to get a closer look.

She grinned, holding up her creation. “Look at this! Barca’s newest mascot. Cookie edition.”

You chuckled, admiring her work. “I love it, I think we should keep this one for us. You’re really putting your heart into this, aren’t you?”

Alexia shrugged, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Well, it’s just nice to do something special for everyone, you know? I want them to know I appreciate them. I thought maybe this would be a fun way to show it. It been a long season so far and I haven’t been able to help on the pitch recently.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at her words, touched by how much she cared, not that you didn’t already know this but still hearing her say it out load to you warmed you. “They’re lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you. And for what it’s worth, I think they’ll definitely feel the love.”

Alexia smiled, a soft, contented look in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

When all the cookies were finally decorated, you surveyed the results. Stars with sparkly sugar, Christmas trees with green frosting, footballs, and even a few gingerbread players. Some of the cookies were a bit unique, but they were unmistakably festive, and you could feel the holiday spirit.

Alexia stepped back, admiring the table full of treats. “Okay, I think we did pretty well,” she said, pride in her voice. “Ready to deliver these?”

Later that evening, you both arrived at the training facility for the Christmas meet up, carefully carrying trays of cookies wrapped in cellophane and tied with red and green ribbons. The team was in for a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see their reactions.

As you walked in, Patri spotted you both and immediately called out, “Are those cookies?”

Alexia grinned, holding up the trays. “Homemade, just for you guys.”

The team gathered around, curious and excited as Alexia began handing out cookies. Patri’s eyes lit up as she picked one of the brightly frosted stars, immediately taking a bite.

“This is amazing!” she exclaimed, mouth full. “Who knew you were a baker, Alexia?”

Clàudia grabbed a football cookie as you had predicted. “Look, it’s a Barca cookie!”

Everyone laughed, the festive mood spreading as they admired the various shapes and designs. Even Mapi, who usually had a playful, teasing side, looked genuinely touched as she picked out a perfectly decorated snowflake cookie.

“Not bad, chef,” she said to Alexia with a wink, taking a bite. “I’m impressed.”

Alexia cowered a little under the praise, rubbing the back of her neck. “It was a team effort,” she said, nodding in your direction.

The team continued to snack and laugh, breaking into conversations about holiday plans and favourite Christmas movies. In the midst of the busy season, this small gesture brought everyone together, giving you all a moment to relax, laugh, and enjoy the holiday spirit.

As the evening wound down, Alexia slipped her hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for helping me do this. I think it turned out even better than I’d imagined.”

You smiled, leaning into her. “I’d bake cookies with you any day.”

[insomniac4000]

Three Peaks-ChrisMD

I had to write this after the video yesterday despite having some requests still in and writing a Charity match fic....

The brisk morning air bit at Chris’s cheeks as he tightened the straps on his hiking backpack. Standing in the shadow of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland, the mountain loomed like a gray giant, its summit lost in a wisp of cloud. Chris had his hands clasped in front of him as he always did when he did the introductions to his video, addressing the camera ready to capture the beginning of what he hoped would be one of his second channel’s most ambitious videos yet. He was slightly nervous as it was a shift from his usual football content.

“Alright, lads and lady,” Chris called, spinning to face the group with his usual boyish grin. “Let’s get the obligatory intro out of the way before we regret ever agreeing to this.”

“That’s just every ChrisMD video ever,” ArthurTV clapped back causing laughs and jeers from the group, the group being; Harry Lewis who had already taken the role of morale officer, cracking jokes about the group’s preparedness—or lack thereof. Arthur Hill, visibly unsure about what he’d signed up for, leaned heavily on his walking poles, a sheepish smile on his face. ArthurTV and George Clarkeey exchanged knowing glances, already anticipating chaos. ReevHD was characteristically quiet, scanning the trail ahead with determination like he did with every challenge.

And then there was Y/n.

Chris tried not to let his gaze linger on her, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly she seemed to fit into the moment. At 5'2", she was dwarfed by the towering peaks around them, but her petite frame radiated confidence. Her auburn curls were tied up in a high pony tail but already a slight bit of frizz was poking out from the tie, showing her imperfections she embarced and her hazel eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and mischief.

“Ready to prove short people can climb mountains too?” Y/n teased, catching Chris’s eye.

“Short people?” Harry cut in with mock horror. “You and Chris barely make one normal-sized person!”

The others burst into laughter as Chris groaned. “Here we go,” he muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile.

“Team Hobbit in full force,” George added, slinging an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Shire squad, reporting for duty.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but played along, giving Chris a playful nudge. “Come on, Frodo, let’s show them how it’s done.”

The group set off, their boots crunching against the ground. The first leg of the journey was deceptively easy, winding through forests and open meadows. Chris found himself falling into step beside Y/n, their conversation flowing as naturally as the babbling brooks they passed.

“This should be a doddle for you considering your videos,” Chris said, stealing a sideways glance at her. “Any near-death experiences you haven’t told me about yet?”

Y/n chuckled, adjusting her backpack. “Oh, plenty. But I’ll save those stories for when we’re at the summit. You know, motivation to keep climbing.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chris replied, his smile lingering.

Behind them, Harry and George were already trying to outpace each other, their competitive streaks on full display. Arthur Hill lagged slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“You alright back there, Arthur?” Reev called, slowing his pace to check on him.

“Still alive,” Arthur wheezed, earning a round of good-natured laughs.

As the group ascended, the trail grew steeper and more rugged, rocks jutted out at awkward angles.Y/n, used to navigating tricky terrain from her travels, moved with practiced ease, her short legs propelling her upward with surprising speed.

“Alright, we get it,” George said, feigning exasperation as Y/n waited for the rest of them at a particularly steep section. “You’re secretly a mountain goat.”

“Just embrace your inner hobbit,” Y/n shot back, grinning.

“Speaking of hobbits,” Harry said, glancing at Chris, “you keeping up, mate? Or do we need to carry you?”

“Funny,” Chris replied, though he was grateful for the excuse to slow his pace. Y/n waited for him, her expression softening.

“You’re doing great,” she said quietly, her voice carrying only to him.

Chris felt his chest tighten, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Thanks,” he managed, giving her a small smile.

By the time they reached the halfway point, the group was a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. They paused to refuel, pulling out energy bars and water bottles. The wind whipped around them, colder and more insistent as they climbed higher.

Arthur Hill collapsed onto a rock, his face red but determined. “This is... definitely harder than I thought,” he admitted between gulps of water.

“You’re doing better than I expected,” Y/n encouraged, earning a grateful smile from him.

The teasing eased for a while as the group focused on the gruelling climb. The summit felt tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach as the trail grew steeper and the air thinner. Y/n took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the rocky terrain with agility that left the others scrambling to keep up.

Chris stayed close behind her, his own shorter stature making the climb a little easier compared to the taller guys, who were visibly struggling.

“Bet you’re glad to have another hobbit around now,” Y/n teased over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion.

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d say this, but yeah, maybe it’s not so bad.”

The summit finally came into view, on a good day it probably would have been an incredible view but the British weather was typical and as the group had looked out all they could see was fog. Still though, this was the tallest peak and they were at the top.

“We did it!” Harry yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Y/n grinned, pulling out her camera to capture the moment. She turned it toward Chris, who was leaning on his trekking pole, looking both exhilarated and exhausted.

“How does it feel to conquer peak one?” she asked, the camera trained on him.

“Cold,” Chris deadpanned, earning a laugh from the group.

They spent a few precious minutes taking in the view, snapping photos, and catching their breath. But the celebration was short-lived as Chris checked his watch.

“We’re behind schedule,” he announced, his tone regretful. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stay on track.”

As they began their descent, the mood remained light despite the ticking clock. The banter continued, with the group teasing Arthur Hill for his earlier struggles and Chris and Y/n for their so-called “hobbit couple” status.

Chris found himself walking beside Y/n again, their shoulders brushing as they navigated the narrow trail.

“Think we’ll survive the next two peaks?” he asked, his tone half-joking.

Y/n glanced at him, her hazel eyes warm. “If you stick with me, Frodo, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chris felt a flicker of hope, small but persistent, that maybe, just maybe, this challenge would lead to more than just a great video.

As the group reached the base of Ben Nevis and prepared to drive to Scafell Pike, the teasing continued, but so did the camaraderie. And for Chris, the chemistry he felt with Y/n was becoming harder to ignore.

Chris adjusted the camera, framing himself in the shadow of Scafell Pike, the tallest mountain in England. The crisp afternoon sunlight bathed the rolling hills of the Lake District, a stark contrast to the biting wind they had endured on Ben Nevis.

"Alright, peak two," Chris’s voiceover rang out. “Quick update: we’ve just finished a very cosy van ride—by cosy, I mean crammed—with practically no leg room. But that wasn’t a problem for two of the members of the group.”

The screen then filled with a picture of Chris and Y/n squeezed into a corner of the van, her head resting sleepily on his shoulder while they both grinned. Their legs, stretched toward the camera, showed just how much space the pair had, still having some room to swing their smaller legs, in stark contrast to the rest of the group.

The video then continued and now it showed the group gathered around, fastening their jackets and strapping on their backpacks. Harry stretched dramatically, groaning about his sore legs, while George filmed Arthur Hill struggling to zip his jacket.

"You alright there, mate?" George teased.

"Not really," Arthur Hill admitted, but his grin betrayed his determination to keep going.

As they started the climb, the monumental task settled on everyone once again, time was ticking away from them. The steep incline and rocky path demanded focus, and the chatter from the Ben Nevis climb faded into heavy breaths and occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n, as usual, took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the terrain with ease. Chris stuck close to her, their steps often falling into sync.

It wasn’t long until Arthur Hill faltered, wincing as he leaned against his trekking pole.

"Hold up," Reev called, motioning for the group to stop. "Arthur, you good?"

Arthur shook his head. "I’ve got an old injury and it was worse yesterday, I work up this morning thinking that I was okay but it’s really not good at all,” the musician whined a little, he was well aware he was the one who was slowing everyone down and he was in a considering amount of pain now too.

The group exchanged concerned glances.

"Are you going to sit this one out?" Chris said gently, resting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur hesitated, his face a mix of frustration and relief. "Yeah, I think I have to."

They helped him set up a small camp just off the path, ensuring he had water, snacks, and a comfortable spot to rest.

"Don’t worry about me," Arthur said, waving them off. "I’ll cheer you on from here. Just make sure to take loads of embarrassing photos for me to miss out on."

With a final round of reassurances, the group continued upward, joking at Arthur’s position as he laid still on the grass by a rock. As the group continued the summit grew closer with every step. Chris felt his chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t just the exertion.

His parents were waiting at the top.

They had moved to the Lake District from Jersey recently, and while he loved seeing them, introducing them to his friends—especially Y/n—brought a mix of excitement and nerves.

As they reached the peak George and ArthurTV tried to lighten the mood and keep morale up by making jokes about Chris’s mother.

When the group finally crested the summit, they were greeted by Chris’s mum and dad, both bundled in warm coats and waving enthusiastically.

Harry and ArthurTV greeted Chris’s parents like old friends, their laughter and inside jokes echoing across the mountaintop. Y/n, however, hung back, fidgeting with her gloves wondering why she felt so nervous, Chris was only a friend.

Chris noticed and leaned closer to her. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Y/n said quickly, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I just… don’t want to make a bad impression."

Chris chuckled. "You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’ll love you."

As if to prove his point, his mum approached Y/n with open arms. "You must be Y/n," she said warmly. "Chris has told us so much about you."

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she returned the hug. "All good things, I hope."

"Of course," Chris’s mum replied with a wink.

To Y/n’s relief, the conversation flowed naturally. She found herself laughing with Chris’s parents, sharing stories about her travels and listening to tales from their new life in the Lake District.

"You’ve got a good group here," Chris’s dad said, clapping him on the back.

"The best," Chris agreed, his gaze flicking to Y/n.

After a round of photos and a quick snack break, they began their descent. The steep path required concentration, but Chris took the opportunity to start a conversation he’d been mulling over for weeks.

The voiceover took over again, this time the tone changing to a more serious one as Chris explained he wanted to do more videos talking about mental health he explained his struggles with anxiety for years, ruminating thoughts, intrusive stuff but also what had helped him try and get through it so he was now in a much better place. One by one he spoke to each of his friends about mental health, opening up to each other and it was a change of pace from their usual jokes and banter.

Y/n was someone who had also been very opened about her mental health and their conversation could have lasted for days.

Y/n, walking beside Chris, glanced at him thoughtfully. "How different is it for men, though?" she asked. "I mean, society’s expectations and all that."

Chris paused, considering her question. "It’s hard. There’s this pressure to be… strong, or like, unemotional. But that’s changing. Slowly. What about you? You’ve been really open about your journey, haven’t you?"

Y/n nodded, adjusting her grip on her trekking pole. "I try to be. It’s not easy, though. There’s still so much stigma. But I think the more we talk about it, the more we help people feel less alone."

Chris smiled at her. "You’ve helped me, you know. Just by being so honest."

Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. "You’ve helped me too."

Their conversation was interrupted when Y/n’s foot slipped on a loose rock. She gasped, her arms flailing, but Chris caught her hand just in time.

"You alright?" he asked, steadying her.

"Yeah, just my dignity taking a hit," she said, laughing as she regained her balance.

Chris didn’t let go of her hand right away, and when he did, it was with a lingering warmth that neither of them acknowledged.

The rest of the descent was filled with lighter conversations, the group joking about their shared exhaustion and Arthur Hill’s missed summit.

As they reached the base of Scafell Pike, Chris felt a renewed sense of purpose. Two peaks down, one to go. They had decided that twenty four hours was now long gone but they were going to enjoy the journey for what it is.

The glow of determination fueled the group as they loaded into the van, but the energy from the morning had shifted. Arthur Hill, sitting on a bench with his leg propped up and wrapped in a bandage, waved them off with Harry by his side.

"Be safe!" Arthur called. "And don’t forget to take a victory photo at the top of Snowdon—preferably one where Jamie doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out!"

Jamie, who had also been struggling a little shot him a mock glare.

With the group a little smaller now, the drive to Snowdonia was quieter. Chris glanced back at Y/n, who had claimed the backseat corner. Her head leaned against the window, her auburn curls falling softly over her face as she watched the scenery blur into darkness.

“You alright back there, Y/n?” Chris asked, his voice low.

She turned and smiled, though it was softer than usual. “Yeah, just thinking about how this’ll feel tomorrow when my legs refuse to work.”

The van erupted into knowing laughter.

 “This isn’t about the time,” Chris said as they stretched at the base of the mountain, the cold night air biting at their exposed skin. “It’s about finishing what we started.”

Y/n gave him an approving nod. “That’s what it’s all about. Let’s do it.”

The climb up Snowdon was quieter than the others, the fatigue settling deep in their muscles. The darkness added a layer of challenge, with headlamps and flashlights casting eerie shadows across the rocky path.

“Watch your step,” Reev warned as they navigated a narrow ridge.

There were a few stumbles—George slipping onto his hands and knees, ArthurTV catching himself on a low rock—but no injuries. Every so often, the group paused, catching their breath and sipping water, their chatter growing lighter with every stop.

At last, the summit came into view. The cold wind whipped around them as they reached the peak, and for a moment, no one said a word.

Then Reev broke the silence. “We actually did it.”

“Almost,” Chris corrected. “We still have to get down.”

“Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Y/n teased, nudging him lightly.

The group broke into hugs, laughing through their exhaustion as they celebrated. Chris lingered in Y/n’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her against the cold air.

Someone snapped a photo, capturing their silhouettes against the starry sky.

The descent was slow and careful especially as night was falling now and torches were failing. The rocks, slick with evening dew, made each step treacherous. Y/n stuck close to Chris, their headlamps bobbing in unison as they navigated the terrain.

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Y/n joked, her voice hushed in the quiet of the night.

“You’re the challenge queen,” Chris replied. “I thought this would be your idea of fun.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I usually have better planning, fewer risks of breaking an ankle in the dark.”

Chris smiled but noticed her pensive expression. “You okay?”

Y/n hesitated before answering. “Yeah. I just… I’ve been thinking a lot on this trip. About where I’m going, what I want. It’s hard not to when you’re staring down mountains, you know?”

“I get that,” Chris said, his voice thoughtful. “Climbing a mountain does have a way of putting things in perspective.”

They walked in silence for a moment before Y/n continued. “I’ve been doing YouTube for over a decade. I love it, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just… running away from things by traveling so much. Like, maybe if I stop, I’ll have to face everything I’ve been avoiding.”

Chris’s chest tightened at her honesty. “I don’t think you’re running away,” he said softly. “I think you’re just searching for what makes you happy. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Y/n looked at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the beam of his headlamp. “You really think that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Chris replied. “You’ve inspired so many people—including me. You’ve got this way of making even the toughest situations seem like an adventure.”

Y/n smiled, a genuine, heartfelt expression that made Chris’s stomach flip. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”

They walked a little further before Y/n asked, “What about you? What are you searching for?”

Chris exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I’ve spent so much time focusing on work, on videos, that I’ve kind of lost sight of what’s next. But being here, with you guys, it reminds me of what’s important. It’s not just about the videos or the views—it’s about the connections we make along the way.”

Y/n reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good answer.”

Chris chuckled, his heart racing at the contact. “Glad you approve.”

As they continued down the mountain, Chris couldn’t help but glance at Y/n every so often. She looked tired but content, her curls glowing faintly in the moonlight. Chris couldn’t help but think this trip was very special for a multitude for reasons.

In the comments, viewers had plenty to say.

“Y/n and Chris definitely have something going on. The chemistry is undeniable!” “Chris catching Y/n when she slipped? Literal couple goals.” “The ‘hobbit couple’ strikes again! Just admit you’re perfect for each other already.” “Loved the mental health chat. So important to hear men like Chris opening up. Thanks for this, mate.”

Chris scrolled through the comments later that night, a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at his phone, debating whether to message Y/n.

Before he could decide, his phone buzzed with a message from her.

Y/n: “Can’t believe we actually did it. Thanks for being my rock on the trip. (Haha get it?) 😊”

Chris grinned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing a response.

Chris: “That was awful, but really couldn’t have done it without you. Hobbit squad for life. 🏔️”

Chris bit his lip as he then typed out the message “Dinner?” three times before deleting it each time. Something had changed in him one day but was he ready for another challenge?

[letstrythisout4]

There is overlap in these traits but when it comes to their thing, their niche.

James Sirius is the artist (in every sense and medium)

Albus Severus is the academic

Lily Luna is the athlete

James was the kid to draw on the walls. His paint hand prints were everywhere. Used the pots and pans as a drum set until Harry bought him one of his own and set it up in an extra room. The room quickly became filled with loads of instruments, so many that they eventually expanded the interior of the room. The room had instruments, paints, markers, canvases, posters, fake walls to be spray painted on, a recording area, shelves to be filled with vinyls, sketchbooks, and journals. He writes novels, short stories, and poems. He knits and crochets (Molly for sure taught him). He creates and paints pottery. Anything creative James has a hand in it.

Albus Severus who is so incredibly book smart. Starts reading absurdly young. Cares so much about learning about all there is to know that Ravenclaw is a genuine consideration of where he should be placed. Spent almost all his time growing up outside looking to the stairs for Astronomy studies. Loves to be babysat by Neville because Neville has an amazing greenhouse and is always willing to explain what every plant is, its properties and how it's used most frequently. And then in the muggle world (because I’m a firm believer that Harry makes his kids go to muggle school) number one student, the one kids go to whenever the teacher is busy. Doesn’t really have a best subject but he likes Math and Science the most. 

Lily Luna does every sport, every damn one. In her pre-k some girl is talking about gymnastics and Lily is like “I want to do that” and Harry is already used to giving into his kids creative endeavors so he immediately signs her up and she is a natural. Then it just expands, she is on almost every single team that her school offers. Swim, track, cross-country, volleyball, skating (ice and you know regular skateboarding), snowboarding, softball, american football, soccer, every single sport. From the age of 4 every single week the entire Potter family is at some sort of competition or showcase to support the baby of the family. Quidditch isn’t even a question, girl is one of the -if not the- most successful Chaser to come out of Hogwarts.

All of them are very successful in their fields, the Potters have several display cases of trophies, ribbons and plaques with all their names. And while they are all talented in parts of each other's fields, its very select you know? James is a chaser and Albus is a seeker, and considered two of the best of this era in Hogwarts. Albus sketches the plants that he discusses in his notes, and Lily has been known to doodle on her essays. And Lily and James are considered some of the best of their years. All of them are very powerful and talented but they dominate- no competition- in their respective fields.

[medicine-san]

savanaclaw android [ au belongs to @ceruleancattail ]

[ okay I've felt better now, and as promised here full story with 🍩 and 🐺. unfortunately most context were lost because I tried too hard to keep it short ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I do not speak english, I don't know how to write, this is purely me being dedicated to murphy's law. ]

tw: fluff jack fluff jack fluff jack

leona who funnily enough was bought not to be a miracle as what people originally intended him to be, but a kindergarten teacher.

who would've thought such high maintenance android would end up getting his hands wiping some kid's piss and puke off the floor, his rumoured high intelligence are nought but just for teaching mere children's knowledge. not like he can do anything, his owner need his help. it's in the contract. letting these tiny creatures pestering him, their tiny hands all over him or his tail or his ears. or having them fight to sit on his uncomfortably hard thighs when it's lunch time.

what an insult to his creation.

but recently, he began to experience an unexplainable series of lagging in his speech pattern. his eyes begin to blur at times. simple tasks beginning to feel like a burden as his head would dangerously overheat, even the kids could see the strain he's baring from how much he's scrunching his brows.

the sound, he'd say, the sound. it's annoying.

a sound of something stirring. everytime he heard the sound, his eye would hurt so bad as if it's scratching to come out of his eye socket. his students would just childishly claim it was a migraine, telling him he should rest more. "I could not have migraine you stupid cubs", is what he'd say if not because of the strict filter for his speech.

popup notifications begin to emerge, warning him of a foreign third party running his system. multiple non permitable access to his memory drive, he just now noticed that there are viruses corrupting his system. how could this be possible? he never turned his antivirus software off. is there a malpractice happening without him knowing?

and it doesn't take long for him to figure out the problem.

his eyes are the problem.

the images, the videos, continuously sent to a certain someone he could not mention as that will breach the TOS. even thinking this is already straining his thought process to the point of overheating.

his eyes are the reason.

and with that same eyes, he continues to stare at the messy mess. nonchalantly showing off his bloodied hand with bits of what could be assumed as remnants of skin and flesh to the watching eyes behind the screen. it is a bit dark, but they are not stupid.

especially not after the screen went temporarily blocked before it shows the face of a certain android, specks of blood can be seen on his face.

don't you think delivery guys got away quite easily?

you can be one of those annoying old men who think the whole world is their enemy and will not hesitate to shoot you for wanting to get your ball that accidentally got into his lawn, but will let his gate open for limited access to his front door if you're his delivery guy. well, as long as they keep their bloodthirsty dogs on leash at least. humans are not to be trusted.

maybe it's not the greatest job, but it's one that he enjoys doing. the rush to get everything on time, the competition to stay on top, the joy that comes with being able to see new places and faces. ruggie enjoys it all. can machines even feel joy? he may have no answer to that, but it is something akin to that, if he could describe it.

or at least, that's what the old lady told him. truly, how could she describe human emotion on him, a robot? do humans really have to push their human perspective on everything? that's why they keep getting themselves in stupid situation for being too emotionally attached to objects. but then that's why those heartslabyul ai software is all the hit right now.

because they are lonely.

the old lady is kind. really! she always greet him whenever he came to the area for deliveries. asking him about his day, about the weather, if he's working too hard. such young man shouldn't get his skin burned by the sun! she'd say. grandma, don't you think your concern is misplaced? worry about yourself first, instead of this young roaring machine. I'm still full of energy, and carefully oiled. my gears won't rust away anytime soon, and I'm not getting busted that easily. not while there's still people who need his service.

like this shaky hand that's reaching out of the crack of the door.

the wide, soulless eye staring at him, pleading for that magical key to the world of happiness. to see such unhappiness, and him having the power to change it, oh how thrilling! he couldn't control the grin from widening!

he loves this job, it helps more people to be happy.

for a guard dog, jack model is certainly quite a character. not in a bad way, it's just funny to see this over 190cm android tensing up for his monthly checkups. even while sitting down, he still manage to tower over the mechanic's smaller figure. his ears flatten whenever their hands reaching the inside of him for any loose bolts, quietly whimpering to himself whenever they bumped his circuits with their fragile fingers while checking him up. his sensory should've been turned off, so it's certainly not "pain" he's experiencing.

"calm down, puppy,"

"you're making this difficult for me."

it's difficult for him too. human, can't you see? the way you're talking to him, the way you're handling him, how you'd rub circles around his knuckles whenever he'd had a nasty fight with aggressors, or when you'd aggressively scratch his head and ears after every patch ups with them, cooing him with "good boy"s and "good job"s. all while smelling like oil and chemical, the clinking sound of equipments softly echoing in the workshop, his ears catching up lowly moans of other androids under their care, the buzzing noise of fading life all around the two of them.

how romantic, hell he could imagine himself getting a kiss too from how much his brain is replaying all the romantic scenarios on tv dramas he'd play BEFORE coming here. oh please do, just a peck on my head is all I want. touch my cheeks and pull them lightly, what I'd do just to feel you gracing me with your marks on me. those damned lines play by itself on his mind as he's staring directly at their face. taking notes of how their face scrunched when he's not staying still to their liking, or at how their shadowed figure igniting a certain scene that got his eyes drooping. his tail lightly drumming the chair he's sitting on, the artificial fur sweeping their pants tenderly.

sickeningly sweet.

as if he didn't just had a romantic awakening in the middle of what can be considered a butcher's shop of his kind.

[kamkazoo]

atwi80d brainrot may get so bad i write myself a season 2 and i add a character. themes? found family! hurt comfort! a bit of angst! adventure! (obviously!)

like it wouldn't be typed out like a fanfiction, but like a script? then if i get the whole story done and down that way, then maybe i could write it as a fanfiction.

i need father figure phileas please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please.

but there are key details that i would need to look at. like how phileas, passepartout and abigail are written/acted out as in the show. im not too sure about the book though, cause they had changed some stuff i think?

also i would probably have to write about some topics that does happen every day, but i seriously wouldnt want it to come off wrong or anything. like i genuinely want it to be really good, and i really dont want to offend/accidentally hurt anybody.

im talking about like racism, misogyny and the like. like, i want it to be written well! i dont want any of it to sound rude, or sound like im attacking people when im genuinely trying not to. i am literally so scared of coming off as racist, i dont EVER want to sound racist or be racist. ever.

i would also have to decide what would even happen in it too. like who do they meet? what do they do? is it another adventure? is there... maybe a travelling competition that the three go on? maybe they all just go on a fancy train ride and then get mixed into some drama which then THAT causes it?

also if it was like a script, i should decide if each 'episode' is a chapter. or if each 'episode' is its own story. (im imagining it like its on ao3) i havent read it, but 'Pray for us, Icarus.' you know, the fanfiction collection thingy? like isnt that a bunch of the fanfictions collected together? i never actually looked into it yet, but i remember opening it and getting overwhelmed with how many stories there were.

so maybe each chapter could be a scene? if it was set out like that? but then there may be short scenes, so maybe not.

sorry ill shut up now

[astralfortune]

Side Story: Warm and Cold

This thing has been running around in my head and I wanted to write it down before it gets away from me. Here's how E and X started their tradition of weekly lunches, starring Elaine and Xanthe.

Minor spoilers below!

The teenager crossed her arms and huffed as the rest of her classmates scattered into different groups to continue practicing. It’s already been half a year since she became a trainee and the rumors about her have yet to die off. She can kind of get where these kids are coming from- even though they’re all working together, the competition to debut is fierce. Everyone is both an ally and rival. But that doesn’t mean they can just ostracize Elaine because of baseless assumptions!

She’s heard the rumors. It’s not that different from the ones she’s heard back home. People think Elaine is full of themselves and entitled. All because she looks nice and comes from a well off family. Yes, she’s aware of her physical appearance and social class, but that doesn’t matter much to her. She wants to be acknowledged for her own skills and what kind of person she is. Elaine had hoped that she could start fresh here, but with the way everyone is deliberately ignoring her…

Elaine heaves another sigh and leans against the wall, sliding their back down to sit on the floor. If she stays in the back and looks small maybe the instructor wouldn’t notice her. Elaine rests her head between her legs and closes her eyes. It isn’t long before she hears the sounds of someone’s boots approaching them. Elaine lifts her head to see another girl around their age with short black hair looking down at her with a blank face.

“Do you have a partner?” The girl asks with a tilt of her head. “We’re supposed to be practicing with at least one other person.”

Oh, now Elaine recognizes the girl. She’s the newest trainee that was scouted a month ago. Xanthe was her name? Apparently no one’s been able to crack her poker face yet. Elaine stands up to properly address Xanthe but still chooses to lean back against the wall. “Well, as you can see, I’m not exactly a popular choice around here.” She says with a wry grin.

Xanthe sweeps her gaze across the studio, now noticing how the rest of the students have their heads turned away from the pair. “Hm. Then practice with me. I don’t really care about what others think.” Xanthe reaches a hand out to Elaine, looking at her with earnest eyes.

Elaine looks down at the hand and back up at Xanthe. Hesitantly, they take it. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” For the first time in months, her face breaks into a genuine smile.

---

“Xanthe!”

“Hey Xanthe, let’s have lunch together!”

“Xanthe, help me with the choreography! I saw you nail it last week.’

“Xanthe, come try this new recipe I found online! We can eat it in my room!”

Xanthe isn’t sure how Elaine became so attached to her. All she did was offer to practice together. Now, the blonde is seeking her out almost every day and taking her out to eat at least once a week. Xanthe barely even talks during their time together, she’s not exactly a vocal person in general but Elaine has a way of taking over the conversation completely. Not that Xanthe minds, she’s always preferred being a listener. 

She likes the energy Elaine brings with her, it’s refreshing to see how full of life a person can be. Xanthe is used to stark professionalism and formalities. Elaine is the color she never knew she needed in her life.

Every day with Elaine is filled with excitement and laughter but lately, it seems like there’s something in Elaine’s mind that keeps her from bringing out the same enthusiasm she usually has. Should Xanthe say something? She’s never actually had a proper friend before, would asking make her seem too pushy?

These thoughts continue running through her mind as she looks at the menu in front of her. Elaine asked her out for lunch at a new cafe she found but the conversation between them has been stilted and lacking the usual energy. The two order and the awkward atmosphere only grows as they wait. Maybe Xanthe should bring it up, maybe she did something wrong and she should apologize. 

“I heard the agency is sending some of the trainees to a survival show.” Elaine starts. “Think we’ll get picked?”

“Maybe.” Xanthe says, ending the conversation. The food arrives without much fanfare but before either of them can eat, Xanthe finally brings up the elephant in the room. “Are you mad at me, Elaine?”

The blonde almost drops their fork in surprise, whipping her gaze up to Xanthe with a shocked expression. “What?! No! No, I’m not mad at you at all. Why would you think that?”

Xanthe shrugs. “You just seem… different lately.” She says. “Like there’s something bothering you. I just thought I might’ve done something to upset you.”

“No, no. You didn’t do anything.” Elaine stabs her cake in frustration. “It’s all me. I don’t know- I just feel- low energy? You’ve told me before that you like my energy but it’s just been hard to keep it up. A-And if I don’t keep being that way, you might leave me. I know it’s stupid, but the thought of you starting to dislike me…” Elaine sighs.

“Elaine…”

“You’re my first real friend, Xanthe. I don’t want to lose you.” Elaine’s eyes start to become watery, she takes a bite of her cake to keep herself from completely breaking down.

Xanthe’s face softens at her friend’s confession. “Elaine, it’s not stupid. You should have told me sooner that you were getting worn out. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She reaches out to gently stroke the blonde’s hair. “I like you for you, it doesn’t matter to me if you’re feeling lively or not. Being in your presence is enough.”

Hearing those words soothe an ache in Elaine’s heart. Tears freely flow down her flushed cheeks as Xanthe continues gently stroking her head. “Thank you, Xanthe. You don’t know how much that means to me.” She manages to blubber out.

“That’s what friends are for.”

---

“We should do this again.” Xanthe says suddenly while the pair walk back to the agency.

“What do you mean? We always go out for lunch.” Elaine sips at her bubble tea, looking at her best friend with a confused expression.

Xanthe shakes her head. “I mean, we should take a day to recharge. A day where you don’t have to take the lead.”

Elaine pauses, then smiles, taking Xanthe's hand into her own. “Oh… yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

[formulakatya]

BLESSING IN DISGUISE | TAA

"maybe it's a blessing in disguise, i see my reflection in your eyes"

summary: where you and trent are childhood friends, you find yourself in a difficult situation, clueless on what to do, you call trent for advice.

pairing: trent alexander-arnold × freestyle skier!reader

notes: i'm back! i've been out of ideas recently but on a whim, i decided to write a story to the first audio i get on my tiktok for you page which just so happened to be reflections by the neighbourhood :) this is unedited work and a rather short story so im sorry about that!

warnings: none that i can think of, just really bad writing.

—

holding your skies tightly, you waited nervously for the score. you had given your final run your all, landing the prestigious and tricky 1620 jump. “come on,” you mumbled underneath your breath. your heart pounding, you held your breath as you glanced at the score board nervously.

93.50

you could’ve swore you felt your heart break right there and then. falling down onto the snow, you looked down at the ground as you tried to compose yourself together, desperately trying to hold back the tears threatening to flow.

it wasn’t enough.

composing yourself, you stood back up as you tried your best to smile as you congratulated the winner before walking towards your coach who engulfed you in a hug. “it wasn’t good enough,” you spoke through shaky breaths, tears spilling out.

“you tried your best,” he spoke on his attempt to comfort you. “at least you landed the 1620, first time in competition!”

“yeah,” you nodded before going back to the other two medalists, shaking hands with them as you posed for a picture.

“well done on that 1620!”

“thanks,” you smiled at eileen, your training partner and also the skier who had came in third. “well done on yours as well.”

“wanna go out for dinner later?”

“sure,” you nodded, trying to think about what you would do at dinner and during the few days extra you had in austria in a pathetic attempt to cheer yourself up.

but all you could think of was the silver medal.

—

staring at the ceiling, you wiped your tears dry as you let out a sigh.

why was it still not good enough?

turning your head, you picked up your phone to check the time before going through your notifications. you had put your phone on ‘do not disturb’, no doubt missing a couple of texts and calls.

trent: congratulations! what a performance!

staring at the message for a minute or so, you hesitated before opening the message, typing a quick ‘thank you’ and sending it before closing your phone and going back to staring at the ceiling.

what if you had done a different jump? what if you had executed the 1620 a little better?

looking back at your phone, you noticed trent had replied to your message as you unplugged your phone from the charging cable.

trent: if you wanna talk about it i’m free to call.

he knew you all too well.

deliberating whether you should take him up on the offer for a while, you finally decided to, dialling his number and putting the phone on speaker as you waited a response.

“hey,” trent’s voice could be heard from the other end of the line. “you okay?”

“could be better, honestly,” you replied. “how did you deal with it?”

“deal with what?”

“y’know…” you replied vaguely, not wanting to bring up the dreaded loss.

“oh,” he responded, picking up on what you were referring to. “not well to be honest, but talking to someone helped me. and lots of crying as well. i guess it was easier because we won the champions league and fa cup. seeing the fans at the parade helped as well.”

trent paused for awhile, nothing but a slight sigh being able to be heard on the other line.

“second place always feels the worst, i get that— especially losing by one point as well. but don’t be so hard on yourself, there’s no point y’know? you did everything you could’ve done and it was one hell of a performance,” he continued speaking. “i know you’re probably beating yourself up over it so don’t. there’s nothing you can do to change what happened and knowing you, you tried your best. you tried your best and that’s all you could really do. take a few days off, pick yourself up and come back stronger, y’know?”

“mhm,” you hummed in response. “it just hurts. it hurts a lot.”

“it’s only natural,” he responded. “you’ll bounce back, though, i know you will.”

“thanks, trent,” you smiled, taking in the words of advice. “you really helped.”

“no problem,” he laughed. “i’m always here if you need anything, alright, love?”

[lsunstreakerl]

hi! i must say i really love your fics and i’m currently re-reading the first chapters of Search History (because i can’t get enough) and i came across this bit:

   "I am so afraid of losing people I love, Max. That is why I did not approach you sooner, because I thought if I got close, if I loved you, something bad would happen to you too." He sniffs, and suddenly he really does have the waterworks going, worse than Max has ever seen from him before.

   "But then Silverstone happened and you got hurt anyways. And I realized it does not matter if I love you from close or afar, and if I am going to love you then I want to do it right. "

and i know SH deals a lot with the consequences of Silverstone ‘21 on Max’s health but i was wondering if you have any insight on Charles’ immediate or short term reaction to the event, specially given that they were not together at the time.

again, love your work! it scratched an itch i didn’t know i had regarding RB garage dynamics

The way I literally disappeared off the face of the earth sorry guys 😭 it's been a rough winter and I've been working lots of unexpected hours but I should have some stuff uploaded soon!

Silverstone '21 is kind of the tipping point for Charles in Search History. I don't write a whole lot of Charles' viewpoint or dive too deep into his character a whole lot, because I don't write him very well (thanks, anon) and I'd rather keep him somewhat as a side character than completely butcher his development. There's a bit more of him in the next chapter of Famiglia, but as far as Search History you probably still won't see a whole lot for the fic itself, but I might try to expand a bit in the rest of the series.

Charles and Max have known each other their whole lives, and Charles has been paying attention to Max for several years at this point, but kind of what I'm alluding to in the chunk you've pointed out is that Charles feels like he's cursed or bad luck to the people he loves. He's seen so much death in the sport, and in his family, and it's always people he loves, people he really cares about, so obviously he's the problem, instead of just having terrible luck, because that totally makes sense, good job Charles.

So Charles is realizing that he cares about Max, really cares, and that scares the hell out of him, so he's trying not to get too close, or get too attached, because then bad things will happen.

And then Max gets his shit rocked at Silverstone, and Charles realizes that he was doing all of this, putting in all this effort to stay away, and Max got hurt anyways, which actually helps break a little bit of that toxic thought pattern for him.

He doesn't immediately do anything dramatic or declare undying love of any of that lol, he just starts letting himself get closer. When Max wants to talk to him after a race, Charles yaps back to his hearts content. They start texting more. Charles seeks out Max to debrief sometimes, instead of Max always coming to him. They meet up in Monaco for lunch, they go on runs together, they spend more time with each other.

Charles still has a lot of anxiety surrounding Max and his eyes after he finds out, and it also creates a bit of a weird dynamic with Lewis going into them being teammates- Lewis doesn't know why Charles is sometimes nice and sometimes not, and Charles is trying to be a good friend and teammate but sometimes when he looks at Lewis all he's thinking of is Max. (This also leads into a really competitive year with Lewis and Charles. Charles is absolutely dead set on refusing Lewis his 8th, and Lewis is like "I understand competitiveness but this seems personal" and Charles is standing there lying through his teeth when he reassures Lewis it's not personal.)

Search History will have a Max and Lewis conversation about the accident. I want to make it clear that I'm not painting Lewis as a villain in this story, because sometimes shit happens, and sometimes that shit can fuck you up long term. It's exactly what it was called- an accident.

Sorry that got a bit rambling. Search History has been fighting me a bit in these last few chapters, so I keep rewriting things because I'd rather take longer and put out something I like than rush it and be unhappy about it later. I promise I'm working on it 🤍

[namazunomegami]

emperor!sukuna x imperial concubine!reader

a/n: part 2 of my self-indulging mess. I had a lot of fun writing him and his drabble got finished way before I developed the whole plotline for Geto lol. I'll try to complete Gojo today or tomorrow and Toji is in the works yaaay!!

Also, I'm so surprised my Geto drabble got so many notes in such a short time!! I wouldn't expected people to be remotely interested in my writing but now I'm getting confident.

And finally, I can guarantee that this reader is gender neutral.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated <33

wc: 674, I know, I know, Geto got the princess treatment from me but sometimes less is more <333

cw: historical AU, scheming, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sudden infant death syndrome, betrayal, accusations of abortion, execution, nudity, mentions of poisoning, suggestive

credits: i used a colored manga panel instead of a fanart but I have no idea who did the coloring so feel free to help me credit their work. And again, my precious @notveryrussian did the proofread, luv ya mwah <33

MDNI PLEASE! I'm gonna find you and kick you in the butt if you do. If you’re not comfortable with dark content or anything mentioned in the warnings just scroll, there's nothing wrong with that.

His mandate of heaven is very different from Gojo and Geto. Sukuna is a ruthless tyrant, he enjoys crushing any nation he deems either threatening or undeserving to even exist next to his borders. His palace is a snake pit, full of betrayal and backstabbing. Executions are frequent and he needs no valid reason to sentence someone to death, he enjoys the bloodshed and the sight of lifeless bodies. You can’t survive that place acting kind and humble. Sukuna specifically torments his concubines physically and mentally for the sheer enjoyment of it.

His court is probably the most competitive. You need to be as ruthless as he is, you need to become a schemer. One of his high-ranking consorts takes you under her wing. She lets you spend leisure time with her, and somehow, she ends up telling you way more sensitive information than she should. She once managed to give him a child, but the infant sadly died days after they were born. She complained about how hard that pregnancy was and that she’s afraid of going through it again, even though she’s attached to him. And not long after this conversation, she fell ill. Retching out everything she ate, her stomach burned and ached. She was so weak her cycle was two weeks late. She trusted you enough to have you fetch her a specific herbal tea to ease her pain and grant her some dreamless sleep.

And that’s the moment you decide you’ll use everything you know about her to cast her down and take her place.

You accuse her that she’s pregnant but wants to abort her baby. Your story is so intricately constructed from all the details you knew that his officials are on your side without hesitation. She watches you horrified, desperately telling him that nothing could be so far from the truth. Sukuna decides to believe in your words and orders for the consort to be executed. Finding pure joy in how she wails and begs for forgiveness. At the execution, he studies your face, every little detail and reaction and you were aware of that. It’s time to impress him. Your face is still, you don’t even flinch when her head is severed by the neck. The eunuchs come for you at night.

He loves and loathes this tradition at the same time. The servants want to protect him, so they deliver you stark naked to ensure you won’t carry any weapons. Fools, as if a weak and trembling creature like you could ever hurt him with a mere dagger or a sharpened hairpin. Yet it makes you look like an offering. A sacrificial lamb. Maybe because you are.

Some primal instinct tells you to balance your inner strength and innate fear of him. Pull back your shoulders, straighten your back, don’t even think to conceal your private parts. Let your fingers quiver and the sheer dread in your eyes seep through. He mocks you. Almost laughs at you while sitting comfortably on the intricately carved shelf bed, wearing a loose bright yellow robe, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. There’s no reason for him to not do this though, he’s a god, the son of heaven, therefore, everything about him is perfect.

The first thing he asks you is if you’re satisfied with your pathetic attempt to improve your position. You don’t dare to tell him that you feel the guilt rotting your insides. He confesses that he was poisoning her meals, he wanted to watch her wither away slowly and enjoy her suffering, but you ruined his plans. He might spare you, you’re a stupid little thing, you couldn’t have known. He warns you that you need to do so much more if you want to be on his good side. You need to be absolutely despicable to earn his praise. Though you feel content having reached your goal and getting to spend a night with him, somewhere deep down you hope you can leave his chamber in one piece or, at least, alive.

[coinandcandle]

Eris Deep Dive: Goddess of Discord and Strife

Eris (Ἔρις) is the Greek personification of discord and strife—more notably she was considered to be the daimona of the strife of war. She was not considered a goddess in the same respect as the Olympians until more recently.

While she was not worshiped in ancient Greece, she has become a popular deity in Discordianism, a modern religion, as well as being worshiped by solitary individuals. In modern day she is given a kinder but still discordant role, worshiped as a goddess of chaos and specifically necessary chaos; chaos invoked as the catalyst of change. She is also said to be the goddess of the chaos needed for artists to create.

Parents and Siblings

Her parentage depends on who is relaying the story. The most popular belief is that she was spawned by Nyx alone.

Nyx, no father

Nyx and Erebus (only because Erebus was Nyx’s lover)

Zeus and Hera (because she is noted as Ares’ sister)

Siblings will also depend. According to Hesiod’s Theogony, her siblings are:

Aether

Hemera

Moros

Apate

Dolos

Nemesis

The Keres

The Moirai

The Hesperides

The Erinyes

Oizys

Momus

Oneiros

Hypnos

Thanatos

Philotes

Geras

If she is the daughter of Zeus and Hera then the list of siblings would be way longer including all half siblings. She is specifically mentioned to be Ares’ sister in Homer’s Iliad. Too many to list, I will instead offer you the genealogy of Zeus and Hera.

Her full-blooded siblings would be:

Hebe

Ares

Eileithyia

Lovers or Partners

No lovers mentioned

Children

Ponos (Hardship)

Lethe (Forgetfulness)

Limos (Starvation)

Algea (Pains)

Hysminai (Battles)

Makhai (Wars)

Phonoi (Murders)

Androktasiai (Manslaughters)

Neikea (Quarrels)

Pseudea (Lies)

Logoi (Stories)

Amphillogiai (Disputes)

Dysnomia (Anarchy)

Ate (Ruin)

Horkos (Oath)

Epithets

Note that these aren’t historically attested, they do come from translated myths but that doesn’t mean she was called this throughout history.

Strife

Infernal Goddess

Mother of Cacodaemons

Notes

Often Eris is called a goddess of chaos in modern times, but in history she is recorded as the goddess of discord. While they seem like synonyms they are not, chaos is disorder and confusion; discord is argument or disagreement. While discord may lead to chaos, they are not one in the same.

This confusion may come from the conflation of Eris and the similar but still separate Roman goddess Discordia, who is the goddess of chaos and was often seen in a kinder light than the Greek Eris.

Eris is the last born of Nyx according to the Theogony.

She is noted in mythology to be particularly fond of the bloodshed of war.

Eris and the goddess of war Enyo are often conflated.

In his writing Works and Days, Hesiod says that there are two Erises; one that exists purely to plague mankind with strife, and the other is a kinder Eris who instills a healthy sense of competition in mankind.

Unfortunately Eris does not appear in mythology often, as is the case for many daimones, However her most popular roles in mythology are:

Throwing the (sometimes golden) apple into a feast with the words inscribed “to the fairest”, causing three goddesses, Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera, to argue about who the apple should go to. Eventually, not wanting to deal with it, Zeus made the human mortal Paris decide. Though her role was short, it was a huge part in starting the Trojan war in mythology. Read about The Judgement of Paris.

When Polytechnos and Aëdon said their relationship was way better than Zeus and Hera’s, Hera sent Eris down to create marital discord between them. She did just that, making them compete against each other. Polytechnos was completing a standing board for a chariot and Aëdon a tapestry at the time, so they made a bet on who would finish first. Whoever lost would present the other with a slave. It gets pretty dark and they end up getting turned into birds by Zeus, a common ‘kind’ gesture from him in mythology. Read more here.

Interestingly enough, Eris is pictured with Themis, the goddess of divine law and order on a vase depicting the Judgement of Paris. The two watch over the three goddesses.

In another painting, Eris is depicted wearing winged shoes and having wings herself. This could symbolize freedom and swiftness—sometimes sneakiness as well. This would make sense for Eris as she is considered in mythology to be a sneaky troublemaker.

There were no shrines known to be dedicated to Eris.

Discordia, Eris’ Roman counterpart, was associated with the type of discord needed for societal change and going with the grain.

Modern Deity Work

Seeing as she was not worshiped as far as we know in ancient times, these are pulled from mostly modern practitioners’ posts as well as general practices of Hellenism.

Correspondences

Rocks/Stone/Crystals

Gold, Onyx, Smoky quartz, moldavite

Herbs/Plants

Apples, hallucinogenic plants,

Animals

Venomous snakes, scorpions, ravens, foxes (all associated with other deities of chaos and discord)

Offerings

Apples with Honey

Honey

Fruits

Breads

Olive oil

Red meat

Wine

Blood (please be smart about this)

Gunpowder (again, don’t be dumb)

Imagery of war

Weapons or imagery of weapons

Acts of Devotion

Learn to embrace chaos as a catalyst for change.

Enter into competitions, whether they be sports or art contests, just go compete!

Learn about the history of war, especially the wars of Ancient Greece.

Join protests for what you believe in, breaking societal norms.

Pull a prank! She’s a trickster, what trickster doesn’t love a good prank?

References and Further Reading

Eris - Theoi Project

Eris - Britannica

Eris -World History Encyclopedia

Eris - Greek Mythology Link

A Guide to Worship Eris Cheat Sheet by screeching-0wl

Theogony by Hesiod

The Iliad by Homer

Works and Days by Hesiod

Subtle Eris Worship by khaire-traveler

[majorproblems77]

Sacred realm competition entry!

Hello!

This is my participation in the @zelda-the-sacred-realm's writing and art competition, for the theme Adventure. I love this comic so much and I love the characters. I've tried my best to characterise them based on the information we have.

We are sending our friend Link on an adventure today, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. (To be honest, i really enjoyed making this and ill probably continue it in the future.)

And a thank you to the creator, for giving us the opportunity to create stuff like this. This was so much fun, and I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone else has come up with as well.

It will be Cross-posted to my A03 account (And my writing account)- As soon as I figure out how to tag it so it's findable

For now, I introduce

You're a hero too, a sacred realm short story

- 1705 words

“It’ll be an adventure!”

He was already on enough of an adventure thank you very much. According to Wind, they had come across a Temple entrance of some kind, and The young spirit seemed eager to explore its depths

“Uhh Sky?” Link asked softly. Standing behind the spirit as the sky hero walked ahead of the group.

“Look over there. You see that.” Wind bounced on the balls of his feet and pointed to his right towards a large-looking tunnel. Engravings curved around the wall.  “Theres a tunnel here. And where you find engravings like this. There's often a temple not far behind. With puzzles!”

“A puzzle?” Link asked. “Like from the stories?”

“Yeah!” Wind smiled, his eyes searching the wall. “Guaranteed there’s a puzzle in there.”

“Gods and spirits often leave things for heroes to find later. I got these from a temple!” Sky turned his head to show his earrings. The light of the hero's spirit shone across them as Link looked closer at them. “Originally these were fireproof earrings for my adventures through a volcano.”

“You think I’ll get anything like that?” Link looked back to the forest behind them as they entered the tunnel.

“Well, you are a hero.” Sky smiled. Placing a hand to Link’s back. Turning his head to look at him. “So I would think so!”

Link smiled softly, as Wind ran ahead. Ushering him forward. “Come on!”

Wind lead the way into the tunnel as the group entered the darkness. “Is it very long? Do I need a torch?” The realm’s hero asked, wringing his hands nervously as he continued to follow the group.

The tunnel opened out to large pit in the middle of the room. Decorated in red and blue torches the top of the walls had runes across it. Sunlight filtered through the ceiling, as the three separated. Time walked to one of the walls, investigating it. While, Link walked to the large pit which sat central in the room.

“Uhh… What do I do?” Link turned back to Sky, who had paused between the two. Looking to the ceiling above the hole, then down at it. He moved across the room to stand besides Link. Sky looked around the room. Eyes pausing on time for a moment. A hand raised to his chin.  “Well. If I had to guess…”

“Hang on.” Sky paused. Looking to Time who had a hand raised. Then to Link. “I think he should figure it out.”

“Why?” Wind raised an eyebrow. Crossing his arms. “We are here for a reason. Surely we should be helping him when we can.”

“And if there's another spirit barrier?” Time said, stopping the hero of the wind’s in his tracks. He pointed a finger towards the hero of the Sky. “You were out of action for a week by hopping into the fight.”

“Hoping into the fight was the right thing to do.” Sky shot back quickly. His voice not accusatory for the moment, but a hint of annoyance on the tip of his tongue.

“I had it handled.”

“Did you?” A pause. “Or did that thing inside the medallion have to save you.” Sky pointed to the item on Link’s chest. Eyes fixed on Time.

Link’s eyes widened at that. The spirit, which he’d nicknamed amulet, was still a mystery to him. Every time it entered the fray he felt helpless. Like a prisoner in his own body. He took a step back and lowered his head. Biting his lower lip as he looked down at the item in question. Placing a hand under it so he could look at it again. The lights of the hero’s spirits shining bright across the surface. Twilight, Wild and Worlds light’s shining dimly.

 The medallion was a warning and a burden, its golden surface a cruel reminder that he still had a lot to learn.

“uhh, guys.” Wind walked over to Link while the others locked eyes with each other. The tension cut with a knife. “Maybe you should wait…”

“Link.” Sky’s voice was immediately laced with guilt as he heard the spirit move around him. His eyes searched the walls below him and they met a small platform. About five feet below him. An eyebrow raised as he turned. “I shouldn’t have…”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Time stood with his arms crossed.

“I…. I didn’t.” Sky stuttered. Looking over to the man in question. Who was leaning over the edge of the platform. Having spotted the same one he had. “Link Wait!”

Link wasn’t paying attention to the spirit beside him. His eyes fixed on a platform below him as he moved around the pit slightly. Placing a foot right on the edge of the pit he took a breath.

Here goes nothing….

Link jumped onto the platform below him, and felt the feeling of shifting through a barrier. Another spirit barrier. The others wouldn’t be coming with him.

“Link!”  Sky’s voice above him he didn’t look up. “Link! Wait!” Slowly walking over to the edge of the ledge he was on allowed him to. He could do this. He could do this. He could…

Oh…. There was no platform there. There was no platform there! Nonnonononono.

He looked upward. Trying to see if he could jump back out. Taking a step back, The feeling of a plate pushing down startled him. He looked to his foot and spotted a pressure plate.

Oh no…

 The walls began to rumble and shake. The platform began moving. The sound of stone grinding as the platform began to retract into the wall from which it came.

“Oh nononono,” he slid backwards and scrambled to the wall. “Nononono, please stop please stop please stop.”

“Link! Link! To your Right!” Wind’s voice sounded over the noise. He looked up rapidly to see the hero of Sky pointing, “Down! And to your right!”

He looked right and saw another platform springing from the wall. A little lower. Panic rising he looked up to see Sky and Wind pointing to it. “That one! THAT ONE!” The spirits voice sounded worried. He appeared to be leaning down but recoiled as blue flames licked at his fingers.

He nodded, standing up on shaky feet he jumped down another five feet.

Another plate. Another shifting platform. As he jumped lower and lower.

The further we went the braver he became.

It was just jumping down a few stairs he’s fine. Well more than a few, but as sky said. He was a hero, right? He should be able to do this in his sleep.

Finally, he made it to the floor. Looking up from his spot he could still see the yellow glow of Sky and Time above him.

“Link! Are you okay?!” The sky hero’s voice echoed down the tunnel as the last of the platforms disappeared into the wall.

“Yes!” Hands to his knees he took a few deep breaths before straightening up. Looking around the walls were a deep grey, illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns dotted across the wall. The ground shifted around his feet, the sand falling away as he made his way around. Placing a hand to the wall he walked the pit’s perimeter to find a switch. But found nothing.

“There’s nothing down here!” He shouted up towards Sky who disappeared past the lip before returning. “I can't find a way up!” Looking across the walls they were decorated with random poles and circular patterns. He felt fear grip him.

Trapped. He was trapped.

“We can't get down to you from here!” Wind’s voice shouted down. “Think you can disable the spirit barrier somehow?!”

“I don’t think so!” He tried to keep his voice steady. Don’t want to panic Sky. “I’ll keep looking.”

“What do you see?!” Time also leaned his head over the pit, his face as stoic as ever.

“Just a bunch of Sand…” He looked to the floor and crouched. Brushing at the floor. More sand met him. The way it shifted made him pause. It didn’t seem all that deep. And there was an indentation buffed in the ground.

A door? A way out? Deeper into the ground. Great.

He began to dig around the edges of the square indented in the floor. If he just kept digging. And digging. And digging. Hoping He might find a way out of this mess.

His fingers brushed a latch as his digging became more frantic.

He revealed a door, and his eyes widened. “Guys! Guys, I found a door!”

His fingers latched the handle and pulled, opening a pit of darkness. The sound of sand falling into it filled his ears as the ground around him shifted. Looking into the darkness he could just about make out the floor below him. He’d have to jump into the pit, which would close the hatch…

A One-way drop.

“Sky! You guys better get back in the medallion!”

“What did you find?!” The Skyloftians's voice sounded. The outline of shining light filtered down towards him. A hand raised to his forehead as he squinted his eyes. “Are you okay?!”

“There’s a hatch in the floor!” Looking more closely he spotted carvings dotted across the wall.  “I think. I think Wind was right! I think it’s a temple!”

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's go!” Wind’s voice echoed around him as swirling wind shifted around him and light burst back into the medallion. His spirit shone as bright as ever along side the others.

The swirling sounds of fire and lightning echoing through the air rang in his ears as the spirits flew down the tunnel and nestled inside the medallion.

He wouldn’t be alone, he just had to remember that.

The door above him loomed red and blue dancing across the wall. He raised a hand to the surface and pushed. The door creaking forward darkness met him as he reached to his right. Looking between a red torch and a blue torch before grabbing the red torch, and holding it close to his chest as he took a deep breath. Walking into the darkness. One thought echoed through his mind.

Time for an adventure.

[lixiesfreckless]

Deeper | l. m.

part one: Deep

➸ synopsis: you can't tell what's worse; the fact that you want him while you can't, or the fact that he obliges you even when he knows you don't deserve it.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader

➸ word count: 1.7k

➸ general content: ex bf!minho, it gets worse!!!, nuclear waste would pull up to the toxic competition only to start crying when the reader arrives, angst angst angst hahahahaha literaly click off if you want a happy ending, morals are lost on these two, dirty talking, the only good thing here is that the sex was protected

➸ warnings: swearing, cheating, sexual content, degradation

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: again, cheating is never okay. in no way am I trying to glamourize it, I just like writing stories about messed up characters sometimes. that being said...was I okay two years ago I feel like I need to interview my old self cause WHAT

♫ all mine- plaza

“We can’t keep doing this to him, you know.”

His fingers don’t relent their pace into you but the pleasurable feeling vanishes all the same, the release you so desperately need coming out in unsatisfying waves of heat between your legs. It’s almost as if he waited for that second to remind you of the horrible truth of this stolen moment on purpose.

In all honesty, you deserved it.

“I know.”

You sit ashamed on the counter as you watch him wash you off his hands, ridding his fingers of any trace of the love crimes he’s helped you commit.

Commit.

Another thing you can’t seem to do.

“I mean it should be simple at this point,” Minho laments, drying his hands on a dish towel, “break up with him.”

“It’s not that easy-”

“And playing with my feelings is easier?”

You stare at him in disbelief, unsure of how one should react to this inconveniently timed confession.

“What?” He scoffs, tossing the towel back onto the counter. “Did you really think that I could be intimate with you again and not fall in love?”

Short answer? No.

Long answer? You two had both fallen back in love with each other despite you being in a semi-serious relationship with Jeongin, and to make up for Jeongin’s lack of a presence in bed, you naturally(and wrongfully) went looking for something to fill it. But in doing so, your old ex seemed to fill that void —and many other things— quite perfectly.

Most people however, call that cheating.

“I mean come on, every time I see you I get my hopes up and think that maybe, just maybe, this will be the time that you want more than something physical from me,” he rants, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. The guilt settles on your chest with the gentleness of an elephant as you watch him lock eyes with you.

“Minho…it’s not like that-”

“Then what’s it like?” He almost yells, fighting to keep his voice down. He didn’t want to fight you; you two had fought enough as lovers in the past and he didn’t want to bring that back. “Why do you continue to break my heart then?”

You're scared of confrontation, Jeongin’s a really nice guy and doesn’t deserve this, you know Minho will come back to you courtesy of his masochistic heart…

Yeah. None of those were good excuses.

He steps closer to you.

“Don’t tell me it’s because you love him too…”

“I don’t,” you respond quickly, looking up at him, “Jeongin is great but…I don’t love him.”

“What do you need me for then?” He whispers, a bitter edge to his voice as he traps you between his arms against the counter. “If he’s so great then why do you need me?”

There is an obvious answer, but you know it’s not the full truth. 

Need is such a funny word; most people use it in terms of things necessary for survival. Food. Clothing. Water. But in your case, you really think you might die if he stands this close to you for this long and it doesn’t end in you bent over this counter.

You’re absolutely horrible in the way that the need to have him inside you is jading your thoughts during a conversation like this.

Something darkens behind his irises as you stay quiet; perhaps it’s him acknowledging his insignificance in your life, or rather, the presence he has that is nowhere near where he wants it to be. 

Both his assumptions are wrong of course, but you’re too caught up in your own head to hear the tch coming from his mouth.

“I should have known.”

Everything about that phrase is slightly off. Equal parts because he’s wrong and he doesn’t know it, and because it just doesn’t sound right. His voice was laced with heartbreak— you could tell that much —but it sounded mainly arrogant, almost egotistical. Almost as if he was proud as to how much his cock had literally and morally fucked you up.

But you don’t have time to ponder the implications of his voice tones; not once he spins you around and presses a hand flat against your back, effectively bending you over the counter, pulling a surprised gasp out of you.

Well, surprised in the sense that you didn’t expect it, not during this conversation. 

And it truly is shameful how badly your body wants it, drowning out the screaming of your heart that’s telling you to stop, talk things out with him, you two do not need to get any deeper into this mess, but it’s no use, he’s already finding the drawstrings of your shorts and undoing them so he can undo you.

“This is all I am to you, right?” He practically spits as he yanks your shorts down, revealing the already soaked panties that he ruined just minutes before. You can tell that he’s angry, and it’s absolutely disgusting how your first thought is that he’s probably going to fuck you harder because of it.

Mad. He’s mad at you for cheating on someone so undeserving. For giving him so much false hope. For being so damn enticing that while he knows you don’t deserve it, he’s still going to give you what you want, because he wants it too. He’s a slave to desire all the same.

He’s mad at himself for not thinking he deserves better than this.

“Nothing more than someone to fill up your needy hole, is that it?” 

You know you should say something, something to ease his pain and remedy this situation, but you subconsciously add selfish to your list of faults as you admit that deep down, you want to see where this goes.

His belt is already undone and your panties are halfway down your thighs, which are practically trembling with anticipation as you hear the metal of the zipper pull clink against the belt buckle. Minho is panting, but you know enough about him to decipher that the labored breathing isn’t from the red haze of anger.

“You want it this bad?” He grits out, and you assume from the latex sounds that you are just seconds away from having him inside you, and you are this close to begging him to go faster. But you won’t. You still have your dignity.

Or…whatever’s left of it.

He prods at your entrance with his gloved tip and if you were a little less sane, you’d be practically crying at the mere thought of being full again.

“Then you’re gonna take it all like the needy slut you are.”

To hell with dignity.

You’re blabbering random words and phrases, all related to wanting him to just fuck you already, and despite his miffed state he grants you your wish, steadying his hands on both of your hips to prepare himself for the plunge.

The mewl that comes out of your mouth is film-worthy, the stretch of his cock against your walls proving too much to keep your mouth shut as he pulls your hips closer together, bending over you slightly as he weakens as well. A few labored pants ensue, yours coming from adjusting and his, well— coming from your adjusting.

He regains his composure and straightens, holding one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, and then he suddenly pulls you flush against his pelvis sharply, pulling a pitched yelp from your lips. And this is where he loses it, because you’re too wet and warm and tight and infuriating and it takes him all of five seconds to draw back and push in again, this time with more force.

You cry out, wishing there was something on the counter you can hold on to, but another push and pull has you resorting to spreading your palms on the granite surface. 

“Poor Jeongin,” he says, each word punctuated with a thrust, “he has no idea that his girl is bent over the counter like this.”

The pure sin of that thought has you reeling, choked moans falling out of your lips as he slams into you harder, probably because of your reaction. 

“Practically begging for me to fill her, fuck,” he adds, with almost a sinister ring to it as the skin slapping noises fill the kitchen.

Nothing about this is ideal, but your walls beg to differ, clenching embarrassingly hard around him and giving away your physical state of arousal to your dismay. He clicks his tongue. 

“Close already?” It’s an insult, you’re aware. And it feeds his ego, knowing that no one can make a mess of you this fast.

You don’t have to answer, because that would be stating the obvious, but you still sputter out “yes, p-please” as if it’s some sort of insurance for your impending release.

And when it crashes over you with the force of a tidal wave, he doesn’t stop, no; he keeps going, and your eyes sting with tears of overstimulation. He doesn’t even acknowledge your orgasm, which only makes a second one feel not so far away.

Suppose this is what he feels like when you chase your highs through means of his ministrations. 

Used.

You feel the familiar twitching of his cock inside you, but before you can think to rub your clit to get you there faster, he’s already filling the latex up with warmth, hips slowing their movements as he tries to catch his breath.

The post-orgasmic haze feels more like a heavy fog as it settles on the both of you, Minho pulling out before he softens too much and you whimper; whether it was at the loss of him or because of the cold air, you don’t know.

The silence that follows is deafening.

There’s so much to say and at the same time, you both have nothing to say to each other. You’re torn between explaining your actions and just leaving it for another time, and he can’t decide if he’ll ever be back if he walks out your door.

A mess doesn’t even begin to describe what you two are.

“I’m sorry,” you finally decide on saying as you watch him put on his jacket. He stills, almost shaking with the restraint of not pettily saying for what? at the first real words you’ve spoken what seems to be all night. Because truthfully, there were about a million different things that you could apologize for.

But it takes two to tango. Specifically in your case, the devil’s tango.

So he settles on something much less damaging, and also equally necessary, and leaves it at that.

“Yeah. I’m sorry too.”