#shoot goal to the future

[anime-of-the-day]

World Cup Anime of the day: Shoot! Goal to the Future

Released: 2022

Kamiya is the courageous captain of a famous Italian soccer team and a former student of Kakegawa. Now Tsuji is at Kakegawa and the soccer team is definitely not what it once was, and frankly Tsuji isn’t super interested in them, but if he wan’t to play soccer, he might just have to create a new legend within Kakegawa.

[littlemisstpk]

So after my pathfinder gm addressed me as "oh great goddess of sports anime" in a DM back in 2020, that kinda lit a fire under my ass and hit on my completionist tendencies. It only took me 4 years to get the idea to write down my thoughts.

I'm going to start with a combo: Shoot! Goal to the Future and Aoki Densetsu Shoot!, kept colour coded throughout to make things a little more clear.

Under the cut because of heavy spoilers.

I started this with the spin off, Shoot! And I very nearly dropped it because of the childhood friend and his incessant nickname with his high pitched voice. I'm glad I didn't, because the show itself was so bad it became extra entertaining. But in there, it was abundantly clear that there were more than a few references to the original show that are there for the few older fans who remember it and aren't in a nursing home.

Because Aoki Densetsu Shoot is a product of its time (1993), it has a lot of the relics that require a hefty suspension of disbelief, and the ability to roll with it. Even then, it wasn't too far fetched, was paced decently, and it even had a B plot of exploring the effect the death of a star player has on not only the school, but to the district which sets it apart from most soccer anime. I actually quite enjoyed it, almost as much as I did the behemoth Slam Dunk which came out the same year. I will be talking about that one later.

But Shoot came out almost thirty years after its predecessor, and audience's tastes have changed in the meantime. When examined in the context of Aoki Densetsu Shoot, Shoot is actually not far off in tone. What makes it not work as well is that they packed the same amount of drama in Shoot's 13 eps that the original series put into 58. Drama needs a little bit of room to set in to avoid feeling overly melodramatic, which is difficult in a 13 episode cours.

What I liked about the shows: Shoot was hamming it up from beginning to end. As long as you expect cheese and a healthy dose of annoying childhood friend, it's one that you can turn your brain off to enjoy. As for the original, because of the 58 ep run, it really got to dig deep into what losing a key team member actually was like in a way we don't get to see nowadays. Plus, the kinds of stuff that they got away with onscreen was wild. At one point Toshi's best friend Kenji, who happens to be in love with Toshi's older sister, leaves the room where Toshi and his sister are, and it's clear that he's dealing with his feelings for her. When our very dense protagonist questions what is happening, his sister effectively says "you'll learn when you're older". Jump cut later, and you find Kenji with a nosebleed. I'm still giggling over that, and I finished this a while ago.

What I didn't like: the pacing in Aoki Densetsu Shoot felt organic--Shoot felt very rushed. Some of the things put in to heighten tension in the follow-up, were very contrived, such as discount Hiramatsu and his whole jealousy arc.

The fun Haikyuu connection: The seiyuu that voices the annoying childhood friend is also the voice of Goshiki. The earnestness makes it clear.

[bloomingkyras]

Save the date and Everyone are invited to Jar'deen & Taryn Wedding this Spring ☺☺

*my last draft 😅😅 and i'm taking a break for packing and setting up draft again today and tomorrow.. so maybe there's no post tomorrow 😊- live from kyra

cc pose credit to:

Finally Engaged Pose Pack - Allie

[transmutationisms]

This is the bullet Mohammed's sister was shot with

Please don't scroll past.

The bullet entered her thigh bone, exited, and then partially penetrated her shin bone. Below are two more photos Mohammed sent me so that you can see the sheer scale of this bullet:

The operation to remove it was successful, but Mohammed, his sister, and the rest of their family are still trapped in Gaza, facing shooting and bombing that has already killed 10 other family members. This is the danger they live with constantly.

Mohammed and I have been talking, and he asked me to share the following message with all of you:

This is the bullet that penetrated my sister’s body. Look at its size, and after she bled a lot of blood while waiting for the operation. Thank God, the operation was successful, but I am publishing the pictures in order to show you that we are facing the biggest criminals in the world and we are powerless. I hope you will help me take care of my sister and her children. Because everything is expensive and does not exist, I hope that you will spread the story to the whole world so that it can see these heinous crimes

Before October, he had a house and his own company. Now, he and his family have been displaced multiple times, and struggle to access clean water, food, and necessary medical treatments.

Please help my friend out as much as you can: reblog his campaign, share it on any other platforms you may have, and donate whatever you can spare. No amount is too small; every little bit will help him get closer to ensuring safety and a future for himself and his family.

In the last 24 hours, the campaign has raised kr2,098 SEK, or approximately $193 USD. Please, don't let this momentum die down. They have still received less than 10% of their total goal, and have a long way to go with your help.

kr25,537 / 500,000 (27 July)

verified by @/90-ghost

[leluxiboi]

I am once again desiring to become a virtual idol as a spider anime boy in a group of fellow non-human virtual idols

[pucksandpower]

The Princess and the Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Princess of Denmark!Reader

Summary: in which you follow the time-honored tradition of Danish royalty falling in love with Australians

Note: dedicated to my favorite Dane, @struggling-with-drivers, who had to put up with me taking months to finally get the proper inspiration to write this

“And if you’ll just follow me, Your Majesty and Your Royal Highnesses, I’ll take you to meet Kevin now,” the overly peppy Haas PR representative says as she gestures down the garage.

You force a smile, trying not to physically recoil as you take in the assault of garish Haas branding surrounding you. The white, red, and black color scheme is far too harsh on the eyes this early on a Saturday morning.

“Oh goody,” your younger sister Josephine says flatly, eliciting a snort from your younger brother Vincent.

Your mother, Queen Mary, shoots the two a reproachful look before turning back to the PR rep with a polished smile. “We’re very excited to meet Kevin and support Denmark’s driver.”

The PR rep beams and starts leading you further into the Haas garage, rattling on about Haas’ ambitious goals for the season as you pass mechanics in matching black Haas polos barely paying you any mind.

You internally groan, already dreading the interaction ahead. As the Crown Princess, you’ve long perfected the art of feigning interest, but this weekend has tested even your limits.

“And I know meeting the future queen will just make Kevin’s day!” The rep continues enthusiastically. “He was so honored when King Frederik reached out about you all coming this weekend to support him.”

You resist the urge to snort. More like the royal communications secretary reached out when they realized the Australian Grand Prix overlapped with your visit to your mother’s family in Australia. Nothing like conveniently timing a royal appearance to drum up positive press.

Your younger sister, Isabella, sidles up next to you, linking her arm through yours commiseratingly. At 16, she’s already mastered your family’s signature skill — conveying boredom through a pleasant facial expression.

“I have some fresh sets of Haas merch we would love for you to wear when you meet Kevin,” the rep says, holding out stacks of Haas emblazoned caps and shirts insistently. “It would mean so much to the team for you to showcase your support.”

You force a smile, already shaking your head. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t wear anything with advertisements or sponsors per royal protocol.”

The PR rep’s face falls slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, I understand. Shall we?”

She gestures further down the garage to where the Haas drivers are standing with team personnel. Kevin Magnussen spots your approach, nudging his teammate before they turn towards you.

As you reach them, Kevin steps forward first, offering a short bow. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it’s an honor to meet you.”

You offer your hand, which he takes, bowing again as he brushes his lips over your knuckles. “The honor is ours, Mr. Magnussen. Denmark is proud to have you representing us in Formula 1.”

Kevin smiles bashfully as you drop his hand. “Please, call me Kevin.”

You return his smile politely. “Very well, Kevin it is.”

The rest of your family exchanges pleasantries with Kevin before the PR rep guides you towards the pit wall to observe the action on track. Practice is getting underway, and you’re grateful for any chance to extract yourself from the oppressive Haas environment.

As you exit the garage into the sunlight, you breathe a sigh of relief. Two bodyguards fall smoothly in step behind you as you start down the paddock, taking in the buzz of activity.

You smile softly, the excitement infectious despite your general disinterest in motorsports. There’s something about the frenetic energy at a race that gets your blood pumping.

Your eyes light up as you spot the unmistakable papaya motorhome of McLaren up ahead. Now that’s a team you can get behind. Cool retro appeal and a driver line-up you’ve heard is full of young talent — what’s not to love?

You pick up your pace, eager to get a closer look at the iconic livery, when suddenly you collide headlong into a firm, muscular body.

You gasp as strong arms wrap around you, stopping your momentum abruptly. Your hands brace against a solid chest as you glance up, prepared to stammer out an apology.

But the words die on your lips as you find yourself staring into warm brown eyes set in an unfairly handsome face. The eyes widen in surprise, clearly not having expected the Crown Princess of Denmark to go careening into his arms.

His mouth opens, no doubt to ask if you’re okay, but you stand frozen as the hustle of the paddock fades into background noise.

In this moment, it’s just you and this beautiful stranger. A stranger who hasn’t let go of you yet, one hand still pressed gently against your back.

You know you should pull away, apologize for your clumsiness and be on your way. But something about his eyes makes you want to stay right here, wrapped safely in his arms.

You stand frozen, lost in the stranger’s mesmerizing brown eyes. You vaguely register your bodyguards stepping forward on either side of you.

“Your Royal Highness, are you alright?” Henrik, your lead bodyguard, asks urgently.

You blink, the spell broken as Henrik’s hand lands on your shoulder, gently tugging you back.

The stranger’s eyes widen further as understanding seems to dawn. His eyes flick over the royal crest on Henrik’s suit jacket before moving back to your face, a hint of panic in his gaze.

Before you can offer any reassurance, a voice calls out sharply from behind the man.

“Oscar! What are you doing, mate? We’ve got the strategy briefing in five!”

You watch as the man — Oscar, apparently — glances reluctantly over his shoulder to where a thin harried man bearing a McLaren team pass stands tapping his foot impatiently.

Oscar’s hands slip from your waist as he takes a small step back. “Sorry, I—”

But whatever he was going to say gets lost as the man strides forward, clapping a firm hand on Oscar’s shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s go. No time for chatting up fans when we’ve got quali coming up.”

Oscar allows himself to be steered away, casting one last, almost wistful look back at you before the brisk man hustles him around the corner.

You stare after them for a long moment before Henrik’s voice breaks through your daze once more.

“Your Highness, are you injured at all? Shall I call for a medic?”

You blink, shaking your head quickly as heat floods your cheeks. Honestly, they must think you a simpleton, standing here gaping after a man you collided with.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him quickly. “Just a bit clumsy this morning it seems.”

You force out a breathy laugh, hoping your flaming cheeks can be explained away as embarrassment from your blunder.

Henrik eyes you skeptically for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But please be more careful, Your Highness. Next time we may not be so lucky.”

You nod contritely before allowing Henrik to usher you back towards the Haas garage, your other bodyguard falling smoothly back in step behind you.

As you near the garage, you spot your family gathered by the pit wall, watching as a group of track marshals examines a particularly suspicious drain cover. Your younger siblings all turn as one to look at you, eerily in sync.

The knowing looks on their faces make you shudder. Of the many curses of growing up in a big family, the inability to keep secrets ranks near the top. You’re sure they’ll have the truth out of you before long.

“Nice of you to join us, Y/N,” your younger brother Christian remarks wryly as you reach them. “Have a nice stroll?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. Barely.

“Lovely, thank you,” you reply breezily instead, moving to stand between your mother and Isabella.

You determinedly avoid meeting any of your siblings’ gazes, focusing on the timing sheets instead. But you can feel their curious stares boring into you.

“You look a bit flushed, darling. Are you feeling quite alright?” Your mother murmurs, pressing a hand to your forehead in concern.

“Just peachy!” You chirp in response, internally cringing at the unnatural brightness in your tone.

From your other side, Isabella leans in, voice sly. “You do seem rather … distracted. Anything you want to share with the class?”

You glance at her sharply, taking in her knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes in warning, but Isabella just smiles innocently.

“Oh leave your sister be,” your mother chides. “I’m sure Y/N is just overwhelmed by the excitement of experiencing her first Grand Prix.”

You make a noncommittal noise of agreement, turning your focus back to the timing sheets. Isabella elbows you subtly and you pointedly ignore her, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

You’re immensely thankful when the Haas PR rep appears again, ushering you towards the back to “give the team space to prepare for qualifying,” and drawing your family’s attention away from you.

You trail after your family to the cordoned off hospitality area, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from the proffered cooler.

As the mechanics spring into action around you, Isabella sidles up next to you again, playful smile still in place.

“Soooo,” she drawls, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Who’s got you all flustered then?”

You nearly choke on your water, whipping your head to face her. “What? No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Even to your own ears, the denial sounds feeble. Isabella merely arches one perfect brow, clearly not buying it.

You huff out a breath, scanning the room quickly to ensure none of your other family members are in earshot before hissing under your breath. “I may have accidentally careened into a McLaren crew member during my walk.”

Isabella’s grin turns positively feline. “Oh, do tell ...”

“There’s nothing to tell!” you insist, face flaming once more. “We collided and his reflexes were quick enough to catch me before I fell. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure that blush is just because you’re so very embarrassed by your clumsiness and nothing else.”

You scowl and take a long swig of your water.

Isabella chuckles. “So was this mystery McLaren man at least handsome?”

You nearly choke again. “Isabella!” You admonish under your breath.

She holds up both hands innocently, still grinning. “What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. No judgment here, promise.”

You narrow your eyes, considering her carefully. Before you can think better of it, you mutter reluctantly, “He … wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking.”

“Aha!” Isabella crows triumphantly. “I knew it!”

You shush her frantically, glancing around to make sure her outburst didn’t draw any unwanted attention.

“Do you know his name at least?” Isabella asks, slightly more quietly this time.

You hesitate before admitting, "... Oscar, I think. His colleague called him that.”

Isabella hums thoughtfully. “Very mysterious ...”

You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. “Oh stop it. Can we please just drop this?”

“Of course, of course,” Isabella relents, though the impish twinkle remains in her eye.

You’re prevented from further interrogation by the start of qualifying. You rejoin your family, studiously keeping your gaze away from your siblings’ knowing looks.

You determinedly put the morning’s events from your mind, focusing on Kevin’s qualifying efforts. Though you can’t help the occasional wish that the handsome stranger from McLaren — Oscar — was the one flying around the track instead.

The session proceeds fairly predictably, with the top teams claiming the top spots and the backmarkers bringing up the rear.

As Kevin pulls into the garage after qualifying 17th, you paste on an encouraging smile.

“Excellent job out there, Kevin! You and the team should be very proud.”

Kevin smiles wryly back at you. “You’re too kind, Your Highness. But I think we all know 17th is nothing to celebrate for a team with our aspirations.”

You nod sympathetically. “Of course, there’s always room for improvement. But you showed admirable pace given the circumstances.”

Kevin inclines his head gratefully at your measured response. “You have a bright future ahead as queen with such judicious words.”

You thank him sincerely for the compliment before your family takes their leave, the day’s obligations finally complete.

As you all pile into the waiting cars, Isabella leans over and whispers, “Do you think Kevin would’ve qualified higher if Haas wasn’t so slow?”

You have to smother your snort of laughter into your hand.

“Without question,” you whisper back. “I think a snail could qualify ahead of Haas at this point.”

Isabella dissolves into muffled giggles next to you as the cars pull away from the circuit, leaving the chaotic world of Formula 1 behind. At least until tomorrow.

***

You stare contemplatively out the car window as the city lights of Melbourne streak by in the darkness. Despite your family’s teasing, you can’t seem to remove a certain McLaren crew member from your thoughts.

Oscar. Even his name sends a flutter through your stomach.

You know it’s foolish to get caught up over a brief collision with a stranger. And yet … those eyes. You can’t shake the connection you felt in that moment, however fleeting.

The car slows to a stop outside your hotel and you make a split-second decision. Turning to your mother, you adopt your most winsome tone.

“Mor, I was hoping you might allow me to go out for the evening. To experience the Melbourne nightlife before we depart.”

Your mother’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Go out? Alone?”

You rush to reassure her. “Oh no, I’ll take Henrik and Simone with me of course. I would just love the chance to explore the city a bit, like a normal young woman.”

You see a flash of understanding on your mother’s face and press your advantage. “In fact, didn’t you and Far meet during a pub crawl?”

Pink stains your mother’s cheeks but her lips quirk up. “I suppose we did. But those were different times ...”

“Please Mor?” You plead. “When will I have a chance like this again?”

Your mother regards you shrewdly for a long moment before sighing. “Oh very well. But Henrik and Simone must accompany you at all times. And I want you back by midnight at the latest.”

You beam, leaning over to smack a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll stay safe.”

As you exit the car, your younger brother Christian pipes up from behind you. “Hey, can I come too?”

“Absolutely not,” your mother shuts him down swiftly, leveling a quelling look at his crestfallen face.

You hide a smile as you sweep into the hotel to change, giddiness rising in your chest. A night out is just what you need to clear your head from a certain handsome distraction.

An hour later you slide into the backseat of one of the discreet royal security vehicles, now wearing jeans, heels, and a silky camisole, your long hair spilling over your shoulders.

Henrik raises his eyebrows at your outfit but doesn’t comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the club district.

When you arrive, the bouncer’s eyes widen at the royal crests adorning your bodyguards’ suits. But a few quick words from Henrik and you’re granted access without a fuss.

The heavy beat of the music washes over you as you enter the fashionable club. Bright lights flash hypnotically over the crowded dance floor. You glance back at Henrik and Simone stationed near the entrance, allowing the music to carry you further inside.

You weave your way to the bar, excitement simmering in your veins. Tonight you’re just Y/N, anonymous clubgoer. No titles, no expectations, no watching eyes judging your every move.

Well, except for your bodyguards of course. But they’re discreet enough to give you space.

You’re so lost in the heady freedom of anonymity that you don’t notice the nearby figure doing a double take. But as you step up to the bar, waiting to order, a now familiar voice sounds behind you.

“Y-Your Highness!” He stammers, nearly dropping the drinks he just received. “I mean, Princess, uh Crown Princess? Sorry, I’m not actually sure—”

You whirl around to see Oscar standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a button-down and jeans.

“Oscar!” You gasp, a smile breaking across your face unbidden. “What are you doing here?”

Pink stains Oscar’s tanned cheeks. “Ah, well my mates from the team wanted to go out and blow off some steam before the race tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But what brings Denmark’s future queen out to the clubs?”

You shrug lightly, grin turning impish. “Can’t a girl just want to dance and have some fun?”

Oscar’s eyes gleam with understanding. “Suppose she can. Well then, may I get you a drink … er ...”

He trails off, clearly unsure how to address you in this unusual context.

You take pity on him and lean in conspiratorially. “Tonight, I’m just Y/N. No need for fancy titles.”

Relief flashes across Oscar’s face and he smiles. “Y/N it is.”

Soon you’ve got drinks in hand and are chatting easily at a tall table beside the dance floor. Oscar is witty and charming, and laughs freely at your sarcastic commentary about Formula 1.

You’re amazed by how at ease you feel in his presence, the crown’s ever-present weight lifted from your shoulders. With Oscar, you’re not an heiress apparent, but just a girl talking to a boy she really really likes.

When he asks what you think of McLaren, you perk up eagerly. “Oh yes, what is it exactly that you do there? Are you an engineer or mechanic of some sort?”

Oscar’s eyes shutter briefly and he clears his throat. “Ah, something like that. Mostly just tinkering to try and make the car faster.”

He steers the conversation to safer waters before you can inquire further. You make a mental note to look up the full McLaren staff list later and figure out his specific role.

The night flies by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. Oscar gamely joins you on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on your waist as you sway together.

When at last you note the time, disappointment sinks heavy in your gut. Oscar’s face mirrors your own regret as he insists on walking you to meet your bodyguards.

Outside the club, you turn to him reluctantly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

Oscar shuffles his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would … would you want to meet up again tomorrow? Maybe outside the McLaren garage before the race?”

Your face lights up. “I’d love that.” Overcome by boldness, you lean in and brush a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Oscar’s hand drifts up to his cheek, eyes dazed. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You bid him goodnight before allowing Henrik and Simone to usher you into the waiting car, unable to keep the giddy smile from your face the entire ride back.

***

The next morning, you awake with a smile stretching across your face. The memory of Oscar’s brown eyes gazing into yours as you swayed together in the club fills you with warmth.

As you dress and prepare to head to the circuit, an idea strikes. There’s no rule saying you have to spend the entire pre-race hours cooped up in the Haas garage after all.

You slip into the hotel dining room, grabbing a piece of toast. “I’m afraid the petrol fumes in the garage were giving me a dreadful headache yesterday. I think I’ll take a walk around the paddock this morning for some fresh air before the race.”

Your mother’s brows furrow in concern. “Oh dear, that won’t do at all! Yes, a nice walk sounds wise.”

You thank her profusely on your way out, hiding your triumphant smile until the door closes behind you. Phase one complete.

You hold yourself back from rushing through the paddock once at the circuit, maintaining a sedate royal pace. But inside, excitement bubbles through your veins at the thought of seeing Oscar again.

As you make your way to the McLaren garage, your steps falter at the larger-than-life image emblazoned on the wall. Oscar beams back at you, brown hair just barely poking out from under his McLaren cap. The block letters beside the photo proclaim OSCAR PIASTRI #81.

You press a hand to your mouth to smother your gasp. Oscar is a driver? Your Oscar?

Speak of the devil, you spot him emerging from the garage, already dressed in fireproofs with his race suit half hanging around his waist. His face lights up when he sees you, lips curving into that boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

“Good morning!” He chirps, moving in for a brief hug.

You return the hug distractedly, still grappling with this new discovery. As you pull back, you arch a questioning brow at him.

“So … you’re a driver. Funny, I don’t recall you mentioning that last night.”

Pink stains Oscar’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, right. I may have omitted certain details about my role here.” His eyes turn pleading. “I hope you can forgive me? I just liked talking to someone who didn’t already know everything about me for once.”

You regard him thoughtfully before allowing a teasing grin to emerge. “Well, I suppose I can understand the appeal of a fresh slate. And it’s not as if I was fully forthcoming either.”

Oscar’s shoulders sag in relief. “Too right. Quite the pair we make, Princess.” His eyes dance playfully.

You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted by a shout from the garage. “Oscar! Debrief in two minutes, let’s go!”

Oscar smiles apologetically. “Duty calls. But let’s continue this later?”

At your nod, he squeezes your hand briefly before jogging back inside. You make your way back to Haas, butterflies still fluttering wildly.

Once the race starts, you have to work to restrain your enthusiasm as Oscar quickly moves up the field. More than once, you catch your lips curving upward as he deftly overtakes a competitor, and have to rearrange them into careful neutrality.

A discreet glance sideways shows your family members focused intently on Kevin’s efforts in the Haas. You allow yourself a small smile. Watching Oscar race with no one the wiser feels like getting away with something deliciously secretive.

The checkered flag finally waves after 58 intense laps. Your heart leaps as the McLaren crew begins celebrating Oscar’s podium finish. You have to force yourself not to join the applause as he climbs from his car, settling for clasping your hands tightly to contain your glee.

Meanwhile, Kevin finishes in 18th position while his teammate Nico suffered a mechanical retirement. You paste on an encouraging smile, tamping down your excitement over Oscar’s podium.

“Nice recovery there at the end, Kevin. Surely the team can build on this result in the next race.”

Privately, you think Haas would be lucky to keep a wheel attached long enough to make it to the end of a full race, let alone fight for points. But you keep that thought to yourself for now.

As your family rises to congratulate a dejected Kevin on completing the race, Isabella leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Not a great showing, I dare say. Perhaps you are considering transferring allegiance to a certain papaya team instead?”

You press your lips together to contain your smile. Trust Isabella to have guessed your conflicted loyalties.

“Indeed,” you murmur back. “One must be open to supporting all teams in the spirit of global unity.”

Isabella’s eyes dance with mirth, but she simply links her arm through yours, giving a sage nod. “Spoken like a true diplomat.”

As the celebrations kick off for Oscar’s first home race podium, you sneak glances over your shoulder, hoping for another glimpse of him through the chaos.

Someday soon, perhaps you’ll be able to cheer for him openly. For now, you hold the image of his smiling face in your mind as you reluctantly follow your family back out of the disappointing Haas garage.

If nothing else, this surprise-filled weekend has shown you that your heart will not be so easily commanded. And it seems to have rather fixated itself on a certain charismatic McLaren driver.

***

You hover near the paddock exit, half hoping to catch one last glimpse of Oscar before your departure. Your family made their polite farewells to the Haas team and you seized the opportunity to slip away.

You’ve just resigned yourself to missing him when hurried footsteps sound behind you.

“Princess! Wait up!”

You whirl around to see Oscar jogging towards you, face freshly showered but still flushed with elation. He draws up before you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave,” you smile brightly. “I had to come say a proper congratulations for your podium first!”

Oscar ducks his head bashfully even as his eyes shine. “And, well, I hoped maybe you were cheering me on out there today?”

Heat floods your cheeks as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “You know I can’t answer that. But I will say you drove brilliantly and I’m so pleased for your result.”

Oscar’s grin widens, clearly reading between the lines of your diplomatic answer.

“Well I’m glad I could end your weekend on a high note after the woeful introduction to Formula 1 from Haas.”

You groan good-naturedly. “Ugh yes, I think Kevin was grateful when I finally made myself scarce from that garage of doom.”

Oscar chuckles before his expression turns wistful. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading back to Denmark now though?”

You shake your head, curls spilling over your shoulders. “Oh no, we’re spending a few more weeks visiting my mother’s family in Tasmania first.”

At Oscar’s look of surprise, you elaborate, “My mother is originally Australian. Her family is from Tasmania.”

Understanding dawns on Oscar’s face. “Well how about that! Danish royalty certainly seems to have a taste for us Aussies.” He winks playfully.

Heat blooms in your cheeks but you rally to return his banter. “I suppose we do. Though from what I hear, McLaren seemed rather keen on Danes once upon a time as well.”

A rather in-depth Google search earlier that day taught you that Kevin Magnussen once raced for the papaya team. You rather wish he never left, if only so you did not have to suffer through the tedium of being in the Haas garage for the past two days.

Oscar barks out a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth. “Too right, you’ve got me there.” His laughter fades to a soft smile. “But I can’t say I blame my predecessors in the slightest.”

The tender look in his eyes makes your breath catch. Before you lose your nerve, you hurriedly dig out your phone.

“I should give you my number. So we can keep in touch.”

Oscar’s face lights up as he scrambles for his own phone. You quickly swap devices, inputting your contact info and trying not to notice how his name looks lighting up your screen.

Once you’ve traded phones again, an awkward silence descends. You clutch your phone tightly, unsure how to say goodbye when this thing between you feels so new and delicate.

Oscar clears his throat, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way ...”

“Right, yes ...” You trail off, searching for the right words. Because as silly as it sounds, the thought of not seeing Oscar’s smile for who knows how long makes your chest unexpectedly tight.

Acting on impulse, you step forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Oscar’s arms immediately curl around your back, clutching you close.

You breathe him in, imprinting this moment in your memory. The noise of the paddock fades away until it’s just this — the two of you suspended in time.

Far too soon, Oscar pulls back reluctantly. His eyes search your face like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Travel safely, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” His voice holds a promise.

You nod, not trusting your voice. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk steadily towards the exit. Your bodyguards fall in step behind you.

You don’t look back, though you can feel Oscar’s gaze on you until you disappear from view. As your car pulls away, you finally chance a glance backwards, just in time to see Oscar still watching wistfully after you.

Your breath escapes in a shaky exhale and you clutch your phone like a lifeline. Everywhere else suddenly feels much too far away.

***

You collapse back onto your bed, phone already pressed to your ear before the first ring even finishes. Oscar picks up on the second, voice warm and teasing as always.

“Eager today, are we Princess?”

You roll your eyes even as your lips quirk up. “Oh hush, you know you wait just as anxiously for my calls.”

Oscar’s answering chuckle makes your heart skip a beat. “Guilty. I’ll gladly admit your voice is the highlight of my day.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as you get comfortable against the pillows. “Flatterer. Now distract me from the drudgery of royal life with some F1 gossip. How go things in the glamorous world of racing?”

“Oh where to even start!” Oscar launches eagerly into the latest paddock drama — teammate clashes, contract disputes, and salacious hookups. You listen eagerly, living vicariously through his tales.

“Meanwhile Lando has been his usual chaos gremlin self ...” Oscar continues, recounting his teammate’s latest antics.

You laugh until your sides ache, picturing the outrageous scenes. “Honestly, I don’t know how McLaren copes with you two!”

“We keep things lively, that’s for sure,” Oscar agrees, audibly grinning. “Although we’d love an even livelier paddock with a certain Danish princess around again ...”

He leaves the statement hanging tentatively. You chew your lip, heart racing as you gather your courage.

“Funny you should mention that … I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to attend a race again soon.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale crackles through the phone. “Really? You’d come to another race?” His voice turns playful. “Any particular reason for the sudden interest?”

You laugh, hoping he can’t hear the breathlessness in it. “Oh you know, miss the atmosphere, the excitement ...” You pause before adding softly, “Getting to see a certain Aussie driver again.”

Oscar makes a pleased little noise that sends butterflies swirling wildly. “Well I’m sure that driver would be absolutely thrilled to see your face in the paddock again.”

Warmth spreads through your chest, emboldening you further. “As it happens, my godmother is the Queen of Belgium. So it should be easy enough to arrange an appearance at the Belgian Grand Prix.”

“That’s perfect!” Oscar enthuses. “Spa is one of my favorite circuits too. Say you’ll be there?”

His boyish eagerness melts your heart. “I’ll speak to our communications secretary this week. I’m sure they can make it happen.”

“Brilliant.” The tender hope in Oscar’s voice finds its mirror in your own thudding heart. A new chapter is beginning.

You chat longer about lighter topics until Oscar reluctantly says he should get some rest before practice tomorrow.

“I suppose I should let you go then ...” He trails off reluctantly, neither wanting to be the one to end the call.

You clutch the phone tighter, casting wildly for an excuse to keep him on the line. “Wait, you haven’t told me what ridiculous outfit Lando is wearing today!”

Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, words don’t do justice to the monstrosity. I’ll send pictures so you can experience it fully.”

“It’s a deal.” You know you’re only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of hanging up is unbearable.

Just then, the bedroom door crashes open and your younger brother Christian strolls in.

“Hey Y/N, Mor wants to know if … is that Oscar you’re talking to?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

You frantically shoo him away but Christian swoops in and plucks the phone from your hand. “Sorry mate, gotta steal my sister back. Royal duties call and all that. But great chatting, bye now!”

Before you can wrestle the phone away, Christian ends the call with a cheeky grin.

You smack his shoulder indignantly. “You little brat! I was right in the middle of important diplomatic relations!”

Christian just cackles gleefully. “Oh yeah, I could tell. Your dopey romantic sighing was a big clue.” He laughs harder at your outraged stammers.

“Just you wait until you’re madly pining over someone, I’ll get my revenge,” you threaten.

But inside, not even Christian’s teasing can diminish your euphoria. The promise of seeing Oscar again soon eclipses all else.

***

Your heels click rapidly over the pavement as you sweep through the Spa paddock gates. Bodyguards trail discreetly behind but you barely notice them, eyes scanning the bustling crowd for one face.

And then you see him. Oscar stands just ahead, back turned as he bounces on his toes, head swiveling in search of you.

Joy bubbles up in your chest. You break into a run, calling his name. “Oscar!”

He whips around, eyes lighting up when they land on you. His arms open wide and you launch yourself into them with a breathless laugh.

Strong hands grip your waist, swinging you in an enthusiastic circle before setting you back on your feet. Neither of you make any move to step back, standing tangled together.

“You came,” Oscar murmurs, voice awed like he can’t quite believe you’re real.

You lean into him, his warmth chasing away the months spent missing him. “Of course. After all, I made a promise to a certain driver.”

Oscar’s answering smile outshines the sun. Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, keeping one hand entwined with yours.

“Well then, allow me to escort you inside properly.” He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles before leading you towards the paddock entrance.

After scanning your VIP guest pass, courtesy of Oscar, you pass through security hand-in-hand, giddy smiles fixed in place.

The paddock buzzes with activity but you only have eyes for Oscar as he guides you straight to the McLaren garage.

Mechanics glance up curiously as you enter behind Oscar. He squeezes your hand, leaning in close.

“Ready to meet the team, Princess?” At your answering nod, he steers you confidently through the organized chaos.

You run a suddenly nervous hand over your hair as Oscar approaches a genial looking man conversing with a slimmer bearded man.

“Zak, Andrea — there’s someone special I want you both to meet.”

The two men turn, eyebrows raising in polite expectation. Oscar gently tugs you forward.

“This is Crown Princess Y/N of Denmark. Y/N, meet Zak Brown, our CEO, and Andrea Stella, team principal.”

Zak’s eyebrows climb higher but he recovers smoothly, extending a hand. “Your Royal Highness, welcome. We’re honored to host you in our garage.”

You return his firm handshake. “The honor is mine, thank you. Your team has been so welcoming.”

After greeting Andrea as well, Oscar steers you further inside just as a mop of fluffy brown hair zooms by.

“Oscar, mate! There you are, I’ve been ...” The words die on his lips as he spots you, mouth falling open comically. His eyes dart between you and Oscar rapidly.

“Lando, come meet the princess!” Oscar calls out cheekily.

Lando snaps his jaw shut, looking utterly bewildered but offering you a hasty bow. “Your Highness! I mean, lovely to meet you, really.”

Amusement flickers through you at his gobsmacked expression. Oscar shoots you a playful wink over Lando’s shoulder as he scrambles to regain composure.

“But, wait.” Lando glances between you again in confusion. “You mean all those times you cooed ’good morning, Princess’ over the phone … you were talking to an actual princess!”

Oscar bursts out laughing while you press a hand to your mouth to smother your own giggles. Lando flushes but eventually joins in your laughter.

After extracting a promise to explain everything later, Oscar steers you away so they can focus on final prep.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of during the race before I have to suit up,” he promises, getting you settled with refreshments.

The anticipation builds until finally the cars are screaming away from the grid in a blur of color. Your nails dig into your palms as positions shuffle wildly on the first lap.

But soon Oscar settles into a rhythm, battling wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. You’re on your feet with every overtake, yelling yourself hoarse.

The final laps loom with Oscar still fighting for a podium finish. But suddenly disaster strikes for the leaders. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc collide attempting to lap a backmarker on the Kemmel Straight.

You watch in disbelief as both the Red Bull and Ferrari limp to a stop off the track, clearing the path for Oscar to sweep through into the lead.

The McLaren garage roars in elation as Oscar maintains the gap and finally, finally crosses the line to claim his maiden Grand Prix win.

Chaos erupts as a stampede of papaya uniforms makes its way towards parc fermé but Oscar’s performance coach Kim grasps your arm urgently. “Quickly, he’ll want you there for this!”

Kim rushes you down towards the area where Oscar guides his car to a stop. He vaults out, pumping both fists and clambering atop the chassis in triumph.

Your breath catches at the sight of his windswept hair and exultant grin. As McLaren swarms Oscar, his gaze catches on you at the barrier, pressed close by Kim.

In two strides Oscar is right there, joy and adrenaline shining in his eyes. His hand cups your cheek … and then his lips find yours.

The roar around you fades away. For one perfect, suspended moment, your world narrows down to Oscar’s lips slanted over yours, his fingers tangled in your hair.

When you break apart, eyes flying open, the full reality crashes back in. But with Oscar’s breathless laugh warming your skin, the rest of the world no longer matters.

***

You pace the plush hotel carpet, nerves jangling as you await the imminent video call with your family. Since Oscar’s podium kiss yesterday, you’ve been hyper aware of your phone blowing up with notifications but too anxious to check them.

A brisk knock precedes your royal secretary poking his head in. “The call is ready whenever you are, Your Highness.”

Squaring your shoulders, you take a seat at the polished desk as the large monitor springs to life. Your family’s faces fill the screen, ranging from sympathetic (Isabella) to highly amused (Christian).

Before you can get a word in, the royal PR advisors elbow into view, expressions like thunderclouds.

“Your Royal Highness, might we have a word about this … incident from the race?” The chief advisor’s tone drips disapproval.

Ice trickles down your spine but you keep your face neutral. “Of course.”

“I trust you’ve seen the coverage?” At your hesitant nod, the advisor continues, “Then you understand what an embarrassment this is, how damaging to the dignity of the crown.”

You clench your jaw, anger rising. But he barrels on, “Such scandalous behavior, and broadcast globally! You must see how this recklessness reflects poorly on Denmark.”

The rest of the advisors murmur emphatic agreement. Your cheeks burn in humiliation even as you desperately blink back furious tears.

“The narrative has already spiraled out of control. Such associations cannot be tolerated from the future queen.”

The scorn in his tone ignites your temper. But before you can spit out a scathing retort, a commanding voice interrupts.

“Enough!” Your father’s stern face fills the screen, pinning the advisors with an icy glare. They recoil, mouths snapping shut.

Satisfied, your father turns to you, expression softening. “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. What matters most is that you’re happy.”

Hope flickers tentatively inside you as the advisors gape. But your father silences them with another quelling look.

“I know a thing or two about duty versus matters of the heart.” His eyes soften, finding your mother. “I’ll not see my daughter denied the same chance at love that brought me such joy.”

Your mother smiles gently, affection shining through the screen. On her other side, Isabella squeezes her shoulder in solidarity.

The fight drains from the advisors under your father’s resolute gaze. With a few grumbled concessions, they disconnect from the call.

Your muscles uncoil in relief as your attention returns fully to your family. Isabella waggles her eyebrows.

“Soooo … looks like someone had an eventful race!”

Heat floods your cheeks but you can’t suppress a giddy smile. “It just sort of happened in the heat of the moment.”

“This Oscar must be something special,” your mother remarks kindly.

Your insides turn to mush at the memory of Oscar’s kiss. “He really is. I can’t explain it, but it feels … right with him.”

Your normally stoic mother looks touched. “Then he has my blessing.”

On her other side, Christian smirks. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re in looooove.” He exaggerates a swoon, cackling when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Hush dear, let your sister be happy,” your mother chides, swatting his shoulder before smiling indulgently. “Reminds me of another young prince long ago, besotted with an Australian girl ...”

Your father laughs, eyes crinkling. “Too right, darling. Clearly our Y/N takes after me.” He winks at you. “We Danes do seem to have a weakness for Aussies.”

You groan good-naturedly at the gentle teasing, buoyed by your family’s support. With their love behind you, the rest no longer matters.

You conclude the call with hugs blown through the screen and a heart full to bursting. No matter what the coming days hold, you won’t be facing them alone.

Later, a hesitant knock interrupts your contented musings. You open the door to find Oscar, eyebrows pinched anxiously.

But at the sight of your radiant smile, the tension melts from his frame. His hands settle comfortably on your waist like coming home.

“So ...” he begins, nose scrunching up adorably, “Think your family will let you keep me around?”

You answer by pulling him down into a long, sweet kiss. When you finally separate, foreheads pressed together, Oscar sighs out, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your answering laugh fills the space between you as he lifts you effortlessly into a spinning embrace. The setting sun gilds the hotel room in amber, basking you both in warmth and promise.

Let the world say what they will. You’ve made your choice, the only one your heart would allow. And with Oscar’s arms encircling you now, you know you’re right where you belong.

***

“Come on, it’ll be great! When’s the next chance you’ll get to come down under?”

Oscar’s pleading face fills your laptop screen, bottom lip poking out beseechingly. You try to stand firm, but your resolve is crumbling.

“I don’t know … won’t I be imposing on your family time?”

Oscar waves a hand breezily. “Nah, Mum and Dad have been hassling me nonstop to bring you for a visit. Trust me, they’ll smother you with Aussie hospitality.”

You chew your lip thoughtfully. A trip together does sound tempting. And you’re endlessly curious to see where Oscar grew up.

Sensing your wavering, Oscar presses his advantage. “There’s so much I want to show you! The beach I learned to surf at, my favorite cafes and shops ...”

His voice turns coaxing. “And just think, falling asleep under the southern stars ...”

Your heart flutters traitorously. Oscar knows your weakness for astronomy. With a defeated huff, you nod.

“Oh alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for next month.”

Oscar whoops, pumping a victorious fist. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

The rest of the call passes in eager planning until Oscar reluctantly disconnects to start his day. As the screen goes dark, butterflies swell in your stomach. A whole trip together!

The weeks crawl by agonizingly until finally you’re boarding the royal jet bound for Melbourne, giddiness rising with each mile.

Oscar is waiting when you deplane, sweeping you up joyfully the second your feet hit the tarmac. You cling to him, breathing in the scent of home you’ve missed so much.

As the hug extends well past proper etiquette, your bodyguard Henrik pointedly clears his throat. You spring apart, blushing when you meet his knowing gaze.

Oscar just grins unrepentantly, grabbing your hand to lead you towards where his parents are waiting.

You spot them immediately — Oscar’s smile mirrored on his mother’s face and his kind eyes reflected in his father’s crinkled gaze. They hurry over, clasping your hands warmly.

“Your Royal Highness, we’re so honored to finally meet you!” His mother gushes. “Oscar’s told us so much, I feel as if we know you already.”

You smile, charmed by her easy manner. “The honor is mine, Mrs. Piastri. Please, call me Y/N.”

She pats your hand merrily. “Of course, dear! And you must call me Nicole. Now come, let’s get you home and settled.”

The ride to Oscar’s childhood home passes quickly, filled with lively conversation. His parents’ sweet banter reminds you so much of your own.

When you arrive, Nicole loops her arm through yours, bustling you inside. “We’ve freshened up Oscar’s old room for you, I do hope it’s comfortable.”

You take in the posters of racing legends and cricketers adorning the walls, the cluttered bookshelves full of well-loved texts. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

“Excellent!” Nicole claps her hands. “Now, you two get settled. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

She disappears down the hall with a parting wink that makes Oscar flush beet red. You stifle a laugh and let him tug you further inside.

Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and easy laughter. Chris’ eyes twinkle knowingly as he refills your wine.

“We’re just delighted to finally meet the girl who’s made our Oscar so happy.”

Oscar covers his face in exaggerated mortification, but his fingers squeeze yours under the table. You lift your joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles when his parents aren’t looking.

The peaceful mood continues as Nicole breaks out photo albums. You coo over baby pictures of Oscar, smothering laughter at his gap-toothed grin and wild hair.

Yawns eventually take over and everyone reluctantly shuffles off to bed. In Oscar’s room, you borrow his old karting club shirt to sleep in.

Oscar looks up from turning down the duvet, eyes darkening as he takes you in. “This was a terrible idea, you looking so cute in my clothes.”

You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose before climbing into bed and patting the space next to you. Oscar obliges, pulling you close and nuzzling into your hair.

Outside the window, the infinity of the southern skies beckons. But here in Oscar’s arms, you have everything you need.

Oscar hums contentedly, dropping a kiss to your hair as your eyes drift closed.

“Sweet dreams, my princess,” he whispers. You float off cradled in his warmth, perfectly at peace.

The rest of the trip passes in blissful domesticity — lazy beach days, intimate dinners, long talks under the stars. Meeting Oscar’s family feels like coming to a second home.

On your last night, you creep outside to sit curled against him on the back porch, committing every detail to memory.

“I don’t want this to end,” you whisper into the quiet night.

Oscar presses a lingering kiss below your ear. “It’s only the start for us.”

And basking in his touch, the infinite potential of the future unfolding before you, you know he’s right. This is just the beginning.

***

You smooth your hands over your dress, peering anxiously out the palace window overlooking the winding driveway. Any moment now, the car bringing Oscar should pull through the gates.

It’s his first time visiting the palace and meeting your family officially as your boyfriend. You know they’ll love him, but nerves still flutter in your chest.

The crunch of tires on gravel draws your gaze back outside. You watch Oscar emerge from the car, craning his head back to take in the towering palace facade.

Unable to wait any longer, you gather your skirts and hurry downstairs just as he steps inside the grand entryway.

Oscar turns at the click of your heels, face melting into a smile. In a few quick strides, he sweeps you into his arms, spinning you joyfully.

You cling to him, breathing in the soothing scent of home you’ve missed. When he sets you down, hands come up to frame your face tenderly, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“There’s my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you so much, Princess.”

Heart swelling, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that conveys weeks of longing. Oscar responds urgently, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

A pointed cough interrupts your reunion. You pull back to see your brother Christian smirking knowingly.

“Well now I see why you were so eager for Oscar’s visit. Should I come back later?”

You stick your tongue out at him even as a blush stains your cheeks. Taking Oscar’s hand, you lead him towards the family wing.

“Come on, everyone’s excited to finally meet you properly.”

Voices carry from the dining room as you approach. Inside, your family looks up, faces alight with warmth and curiosity.

Your father strides forward first, clasping Oscar’s hand firmly. “Oscar, welcome. We’re delighted to have you here.”

Oscar returns the handshake graciously. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”

More greetings follow before your mother guides everyone to the table. Oscar pulls out your chair, pressing a discreet kiss to your temple as you sit. Happiness bubbles up inside at having him here with your family.

Dinner passes enjoyably, conversation flowing. Oscar charms them all effortlessly with his quick wit and humor. Laughter fills the room, the atmosphere light and intimate.

With dessert finished, your siblings seize their chance to grill Oscar playfully.

“Sooo tell us,” Isabella begins, propping her chin on her hands. “What exactly are your intentions with our dear sister?”

Oscar just grins, unfazed. “Why, to make her happy every single day, of course.”

You melt at his simple sincerity, grasping his hand under the table.

“Good answer!” Christian crows. “But know if you ever hurt her, you’ll have the entire Danish army to answer to.”

Despite his teasing tone, you know Christian means every word. Oscar inclines his head solemnly.

“You have my word such a day will never come. Her happiness means everything to me.”

Your siblings appear satisfied, moving on to pepper Oscar with questions about his career and interests. He takes their antics in stride, witty comebacks drawing fond laughter from your parents.

The relaxed family atmosphere reminds you so much of that first dinner at Oscar’s childhood home. Your heart swells with quiet joy at how seamlessly he fits here too.

Eventually Oscar politely extracts you both, citing early flights in the morning. Alone in the hall, he sags against the wall in exaggerated relief.

“Whew, your family is something else! I think that interrogation was more intense than any press conference.”

You laugh and swat his shoulder before lifting on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You were wonderful. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Oscar’s eyes soften. “Me too, Princess. Being here with you feels like home.”

Heedless of any lingering eyes, you kiss him again under the twinkling chandelier.

A loud retching sound interrupts you. “Ugh, get a room you two!” Christian complains, dodging your swat.

Oscar just tugs you closer with a chuckle. “Don’t worry mate, I plan to.”

He silences Christian’s protests with another searing kiss. And surrounded by Oscar’s warmth, you can’t bring yourself to care who sees.

***

Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. You lay curled against Oscar’s chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.

The steady rhythm soothes you, but your own heart feels anything but calm. There’s something you need to discuss, but nerves stall your tongue.

Sensing your tension, Oscar’s hand comes up to sift gently through your hair. “Penny for your thoughts, love?”

You lean into his touch, gathering courage. “I was just thinking about the future. Our future.” You twist to meet his gaze. “I know it’s still early days for us, but if this continues to get more serious ...”

You trail off uncertainly, but Oscar’s eyes are warm with encouragement. Bolstered, you continue.

“There are certain expectations that come with being attached to the heir to the throne. Traditions and duties to learn.”

You watch Oscar’s face closely, but he simply nods thoughtfully. “Of course, that makes sense. I’m happy to learn whatever I need to.”

Relief trickles through you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling softly down at him.

“For example, even before my mother was engaged to my father, she decided to learn Danish. The protocol and duties, the public role … it was a massive life change.”

You take a bracing breath. “I don’t expect you to make such changes overnight. But someday, if this continues on the path we hope ...”

You trail off meaningfully. Oscar’s hand comes up to cradle your face. “Hey, if being with you means learning Danish, or attending stuffy banquets, or anything else, I’m in this 100%.”

His eyes bore into yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to build a life together.”

Emotion clogs your throat. You have to swallow thickly before responding. “Well, maybe we start small then. How about I teach you a few phrases?”

Oscar grins, pulling you back down against him. “Ja, det lyder perfekt.”

You jerk back in surprise, swatting his chest. “You brat, have you been practicing without telling me?”

Oscar’s eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe just a few key phrases. Wanted to surprise you.”

His smile turns tender. “I’d love nothing more than for you to teach me, sweetheart.”

Happiness bubbles up inside you. You snuggle closer, thinking. “Alright, let’s start simple. Like hej simply means hello.”

Oscar repeats the phrase dutifully, brow furrowing in concentration. You cover his hand with yours.

“Jeg elsker dig,” you murmur, gazing into his eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” Oscar echoes. “What does it mean?”

Sudden shyness has you ducking your head. “It means I love you.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale lifts your head. He grasps both of your hands, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” he repeats reverently.

Emotion clogs your throat. You lean in, whispering against his lips, “Jeg elsker dig, Oscar.”

The kiss starts soft and unhurried, a confirmation of feelings conveyed best without words. Oscar’s arms wrap securely around you as the kiss deepens, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it.

When you eventually break apart, Oscar keeps you cradled close, dropping kisses into your hair. “What else can you teach me?”

Happiness bubbles up at his tentative Danish endearment. You settle back against him, whispering translations as his steady heartbeat lulls you towards sleep.

But too soon, Oscar is reluctantly packing to leave, both clinging to these last private hours before he has to set off for the next race.

You wind yourself around him, unwilling to let go. Oscar holds you close, murmuring promises of next visits and calls into your hair.

As you finally part at the airport, his whispered “jeg elsker dig” warms you from the inside out. No matter the miles between you, your hearts remain entwined.

***

You adjust the diamond clips in your elegantly twisted updo, scanning your reflection critically. The deep blue gown hugs your frame perfectly, but nerves still flutter in your stomach.

Because tonight, Oscar will be attending his first official function as your partner — a lavish gala in honor of the new children’s hospital bearing your mother’s name.

A knock precedes Oscar peeking his head in, hands clapped over his eyes. “Safe to look?”

You smooth your skirt with a shaky exhale. “Yes, come in.”

Oscar drops his hands, mouth falling open. “Wow. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my love.”

He takes your hands, eyes roving appreciatively over you. “Going to have to beat all the envious blokes away with a stick.”

You laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Oh hush. You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Piastri.”

And he does in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, hair swept back neatly. You brush a piece of imaginary lint from his lapel, nerves melting away under his warm gaze.

“Shall we?” He offers his arm gallantly. You lay your hand atop it, spine straightening.

“We shall.”

The ballroom glitters under fairy lights as you make your entrance, immediately garnering interested looks and murmurs. On your arm, Oscar draws admiring glances of his own with his rakish good looks and easy confidence.

You greet various dignitaries and philanthropists, Oscar a steady, charming presence at your side. As you speak with the hospital’s key figures, his hand at the small of your back anchors you.

But as the speeches drag on, Oscar leans in subtly. “Is it terrible I’m already bored senseless? I’d rather actually meet these kids we’re meant to be helping.”

You hide a smile behind your wine glass. The same restlessness plagues you as schmoozing patrons preen and prattle.

As dessert wraps up, an idea strikes you. You catch Oscar’s eye, tilting your head meaningfully at a side exit before excusing yourself discretely.

Understanding dawns on his face and he trails casually after you. In the entry hall, you hurry to a secluded alcove, grabbing his hand.

“Quick, while we won’t be missed. Let’s actually go see the children.”

Excitement flashes across Oscar’s face. “Brilliant thinking. Lead the way, Princess.”

Adrenaline courses through you as you sneak out to the waiting car, bodyguards eyeing you curiously.

“Rigshospitalet, please. Quickly.”

At the children’s hospital, you sweep inside, Oscar at your heels. The receptionist gapes as you approach.

“So sorry to drop by unannounced. We were hoping there might be a chance for us to visit with some of the patients?”

The receptionist’s mouth opens and closes before she stutters, “O-of course, Your Highness, right away!” Clearly your boldness has paid off.

You exchange exhilarated looks with Oscar as she pages a nurse to escort you up. On the cheery pediatric ward, you peek into rooms, greeting curious families.

At one doorway, a gasp stops you short. A little girl sits up in bed, pointing.

“Mama, it’s the princess! And her boyfriend!”

You glance at Oscar to find him rubbing his neck bashfully. Clearly his fame extends beyond the F1 sphere here.

You laugh and enter slowly. “We were hoping we might visit you, if that’s alright?”

The girl — Else — nods eagerly, blond braids bouncing. Her mother rises to curtsy but you wave her off kindly as Oscar produces a small plush racecar from his pocket, to Else’s delight.

As you chat and play with Else, joy lights up her face. For a short time, she’s just a normal girl again. Your chest aches at her bright spirit despite her poor health.

All too soon, a nurse taps her watch. As you make your goodbyes, Else throws her thin arms around your waist.

“Thank you! This was like a fairytale.” Over her head, her mother mouths a tearful thank you of her own.

You hug Else gently before kneeling down. “It was our honor. You stay strong, little one.”

Her returning whisper warms your heart. “Don’t worry, I will!”

Similar scenes play out in room after room. Your cheeks ache from smiling but it’s a welcome ache. The children’s awed joy makes the real reason for tonight crystal clear.

Watching Oscar kneel patiently as a shy boy shows him a prized toy car, your heart clenches with love. Catching your gaze, Oscar’s eyes mirror the same emotion.

Far too soon, your bodyguards notify you it’s time to return before your absence draws notice. A chorus of disappointed groans follows you out.

Back at the gala, you slip in just in time for closing toasts. No one seems the wiser about your little detour.

Under the table, Oscar squeezes your hand. The contact says it all — this is what truly matters. Not accolades or commendations, but joy brought to hurting hearts.

You know you’ll be back. Both of you. Not for galas or acclaim, but for the chance to see young faces light up, if only for a moment.

Late that night, you slow dance alone in the empty ballroom, music and laughter faded. Oscar’s arms circle you from behind, chin tucking onto your shoulder.

“I think tonight was the most important royal function I’ve ever attended,” he murmurs.

You cover his hands with yours, leaning back into him with a contented sigh. No more words need be said.

The rest of the world may see events like tonight as social currency and networking. But you hold the truth in your heart — the only currency that counts can’t be bought, only given freely through love.

***

Two Years Later

You smooth your hands over your dress, pulse thrumming as you await the imminent news conference. Just hours ago, the palace formally announced your engagement to Oscar, sending the public into a frenzy.

Now, you’re about to face the media together for the first time as an engaged couple. Press stands crowd the palace gardens, cameras poised and ready.

At your side, Oscar seems calm and collected, fingers threaded loosely with yours. But you sense the storm brewing beneath his tranquil surface.

You reach up and gently adjust his suit collar, fingers lingering on the lapels as you meet his eyes. He gives you a small, grateful smile before you both turn to face the expectant crowd.

Because today also brings another announcement — one that will upend Oscar’s world irreversibly.

Your father steps forward first to formally confirm the engagement and expound on Oscar’s character. As he returns to your side, Oscar squeezes your hand and you nod in encouragement.

Oscar clears his throat, stepping closer to the microphones. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Y/N and I are over the moon at the chance to spend our lives together.”

He gazes at you softly before continuing. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world to have won the heart of Denmark’s lovely princess.”

You have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless then and there. Cameras flash brightly as Oscar details your romantic (and heavily abridged) love story, punctuated with charming wit.

But gradually, his mirth fades. With another fortifying hand squeeze, he steels himself for the harder part.

“While I’m elated at this new chapter ahead, it also brings difficult changes. I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1 following this season’s conclusion.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Oscar’s grip tightens as he pushes forward.

“As a member of the royal family, I will no longer be able to continue racing competitively. I am grateful to have achieved my dream this year of winning the championship.”

His voice falters briefly and your heart clenches. Racing is Oscar’s passion — having to walk away is unimaginably hard.

Oscar visibly gathers himself. “But as difficult as this is, marrying Y/N is worth any sacrifice. She is my true dream now.”

He turns to you then, eyes glistening. “The honor of being your husband eclipses any trophy or medal. You are my greatest victory.”

Emotion clogs your throat and without thinking, you wrap him in a fierce embrace. The rules of propriety fade away, only your pride and love for Oscar remain.

His arms clutch you close as flashes erupt around you. But in this moment, you see only each other.

Eventually you separate and Oscar takes your hand once more, gracing you with a tender smile. He turns back to the microphones for one last address.

“Til Danmark og det danske folk. Jeg lover at tjene jer med ære, respekt og kærlighed.”

The Danish press reacts first, visibly surprised and impressed at Oscar’s speech in their native tongue.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears at his poignant promise — to serve Denmark with honor, respect, and love.

Overcome with emotion, you step forward to the microphones as well.

“Oscar’s love for me and Denmark is clear to all who meet him. I am truly blessed to have found such a selfless, caring partner.”

Your voice wavers with feeling. “Though it grieves me to see his racing career ended prematurely, I could not be more proud of the man he is.”

You reach for Oscar’s hand, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes. “He gives up much out of love for me. I only hope I can bring him a fraction of the joy in return.”

Oscar’s fingers tighten around yours, eyes shining with affection. Cameras flash furiously at your raw display of love and emotion.

But you remain lost in Oscar’s eyes, the rest of the world fading away. In this moment, all that matters is your shared devotion and the bright future stretching before you.

Questions start flying from the excited press corps but Oscar politely extracts you both, ceding the floor to the waiting palace officials.

Alone inside once more, Oscar sags against the wall in clear emotional exhaustion. You wrap him in your arms, heart aching for the pain this transition causes.

Oscar clings to you tightly, face pressed into your hair. “I meant every word,” he whispers fiercely. “You are my whole world now.”

You draw back just far enough to meet his eyes, hoping he can see the depths of your love reflected there.

“I know, min kæreste. We’ll face this new future together.”

The answering kiss speaks what words cannot. No matter what comes, your love remains constant.

A new path lies ahead now, one you will walk hand in hand, till the end of your days.

***

Five Years Later

The roar of engines draws nearer as your car nears the Copenhagen street circuit. In the seat beside you, Oscar bounces his leg restlessly, face alight with anticipation.

In the backseat, your three-year-old daughter, Margrethe (affectionately called Maise for short), mimics her father’s excitement, chattering cheerfully about anything and everything.

You reach over to still Oscar’s jostling knee, smiling indulgently. “Easy there, we’ve barely arrived and you’re already wound up.”

Oscar shoots you a boyish grin. “Can you blame me? It’s been so long since I was last in the paddock. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Your heart swells with quiet awe once more at the sacrifices Oscar has made for your future together. While racing still runs through his veins, his duties as Crown Prince of Denmark now take precedence.

But today offers a joyous reunion, with Oscar instrumental in bringing Formula 1 racing back to Danish soil for the first time since 1962.

As the car pulls through the paddock entrance, Oscar cranes his neck eagerly, drinking in the familiar organized chaos. Before the door even opens, you hear a familiar voice shouting.

“He lives! The prodigal prince returns!” A blur of McLaren papaya hurtles towards Oscar as he steps out.

Oscar just manages to brace himself before Lando Norris tackles him in an exuberant hug. Laughter bubbles out of Oscar as he returns the embrace.

“Good to see you too, mate. It’s been way too long.”

You round the car to find Oscar’s former team already swarming him, clapping his back and jostling each other good-naturedly to greet their long-lost driver.

Oscar’s eyes shine as he falls back into easy banter, trading inside jokes and reminiscing. With Maise balanced on your hip, you hang back contentedly, letting Oscar have this moment.

As the reunion finally winds down, Lando gestures to you and Maise. “And who do we have here? Don’t tell me this little beauty is your daughter?”

Oscar beams, waving you both over. “She is indeed! Lando, meet my little girl.”

Lando pretends to stagger back in shock. “No way, our little Oscar is all grown up and domesticated now!”

Oscar shoves him playfully before sweeping Maise into his arms. “What can I say, my fast living days are behind me now.” He kisses Maise’s wavy hair, eyes finding yours. “I’ve got all I need right here.”

Your insides turn mushy at the adoration in his voice. The years have only deepened your love further.

More drivers trickle over to greet Oscar, ribbing him good-naturedly about his new royal status. But the obvious affection underlying the teasing is clear.

Zak Brown claps Oscar on the back. “It’s so good to have you back, even just for a day. You and your family should stay, watch the race from the garage!”

For a fleeting moment, naked longing flashes across Oscar’s face at the thought of experiencing race day excitement again up close.

But reality settles back in quickly, his expression turning regretful. “That’s a lovely offer, truly. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make our way to the royal box.”

He bounces Maise gently, tone wry. “Some of us have a job to do handing out trophies later.” Maise giggles and tugs at his ear happily, blissfully unaware of the wistfulness simmering beneath her father’s smile.

You slip your arm through Oscar’s, offering a comforting squeeze. His answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

After more fond farewells, you exit the nostalgic bubble of the garage. Oscar pauses, taking a moment to just breathe and gather himself.

You shift Maise to your other hip, wrapping your free arm around his waist. Oscar leans into you gratefully, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Can’t believe it’s been five years already,” he murmurs. “Feels like another lifetime.”

You smile up at him sadly. “I know, my love. But look at everything you’ve accomplished for Denmark in that time. This race wouldn’t even be happening without you.”

Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Too right. Who needs driving when I’ve got you two anyway?”

He tickles Maise playfully, eliciting delighted giggles. The melancholy edge has left his eyes now, replaced by contentment.

Hand in hand, with Maise toddling happily between you, the three of you set off together towards the royal box. The Danish Grand Prix awaits, along with the bright future you continue building as a family.

This may no longer be Oscar’s world, but he now shapes the path for future generations of drivers. After the race, as Oscar graciously awards the beaming winner while Maise excitedly cheers from the side of the podium, you know this is precisely where he’s meant to be.

[zaczenemiji]

Can you do a spiderwomen x kenji sato. Maybe she was sent to retrieve emi and then got caught by kenji, and she was put into a jail like thing. So now she's just stuck there. She starts flirting with him. If yk what i mean 😏👉🏿👈🏿🎀💓🌸

Have an ice cream cone. 🍦

Thanks ♡♡♡♡

Kaiju Heist

Kenji Sato x Spiderwoman!Reader

Word Count: 1,066

Genre/Warnings: Anti-hero, Flirting, Imprisonment, Morally Grey/Ambiguous Reader

Author’s Note: This one was a bit challenging, I hope it’s to your liking. Thank you for the ice cream, I offer you this fic.

MASTERLIST

Your plan was simple: sneak in, grab the baby kaiju, and get out. But things rarely went according to plan.

Let’s begin where it all started—that damn spider.

Long story short, your parents were scientists doing experiments on radioactive spiders. You help in their lab and one day, an earthquake enormous kaiju shook the city, causing a containment breach. The next thing you know, a particularly aggressive spider bit your hand.

Of course, you gained extraordinary abilities. Others would’ve loved this and used them for good—be like Ultraman or whatever. But to you, it’s more like a curse. Seriously, you didn’t ask for this so ain’t no way were you going to become a selfless heroine.

So you did nothing with your abilities; you didn’t hone it whatsoever. You looked at it as if it’s just another arm that grew out of your body. Like grabbing a bag of chips from across the room, you’d shoot spider webs out to get it without standing.

Despite living your life as privately as you could, somehow, the Kaiju Defense Force was still able to find you. So here you are now, in their headquarters.

You stood there, arms crossed. “I’ve told you before, Dr. Onda,” you said. “I’m not looking to be a hero. I just want to be left alone.”

Dr. Onda, chief officer of the KDF, and old acquaintance of your parents, leaned forward. “I know. But this isn’t about heroism,” he replied. “This is a highly sensitive mission and you’re the only one who can pull it off.”

"And why should I care?" you replied coolly. "What's in it for me?"

"Payment, of course. A substantial one. Enough to ensure you can continue living the peaceful life you desire without any further interference from us,” Dr. Onda answered.

“And more importantly, it's a one-time deal. Complete this mission, and you'll never hear from the KDF again."

Your face expressed a guarded neutrality but inside, you found it so tempting—the promise of financial security and freedom from future obligations.

“What’s the job?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Dr. Onda tapped a few keys on his desk console, and a holographic image of a baby kaiju appeared, rotating slowly.

“It’s an entity of importance for the goals of KDF to be fulfilled,” he said. “Recently, it fell into the hands of Kenji Sato. We need you to retrieve it and bring it back to us.”

You studied the hologram, noting the details. "And how exactly am I supposed to move a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby without causing a scene?"

Dr. Onda leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips. "We have a special containment unit designed specifically for it. It's portable and can be deployed with your help. Your task is to get close enough to activate it and secure the kaiju.”

"And the payment?" you pressed.

Dr. Onda named a figure that made your eyes widen slightly. It was more than enough to ensure your financial independence for years to come.

"Alright," you said finally. "I'll do it. But remember, this is a one-time deal. After this, I want nothing more to do with the KDF."

Dr. Onda smiled, “You have my word."

You turned to leave but paused at the door, and glanced back. "I hope you're right about this, Dr. Onda,” you said. “Because if this goes sideways, I won't be the one paying the price."

Going back to the present—here you are, in Kenji Sato’s basement, trapped in a cylindrical glass containment unit, similar to the one the baby kaiju you were supposed to retrieve was held in.

A floating spherical robot circled around you. “We knew they would send someone,” it said in a mechanically feminine voice.

Suddenly, it projected a red light over your body, scanning you. “But I didn’t expect a spider-woman.”

You pressed your hands against the glass, testing its strength. "Nice trap," you said. “But it's going to take more than that to keep me here."

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a voice came out of nowhere. Turning around, you see THE Kenji Sato with an eyebrow raised and his gaze locked with yours.

The biggest mystery that bothered you upon accepting this mission was how the hell did this famous baseball star had a giant baby in his basement.

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, what's the plan, Kenji? Keep me here forever?” you asked. “Or do you have something else in mind?"

Kenji smirked. "Depends. Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?" you replied, your tone flirtatious. "I was sent to retrieve that kaiju baby. But now, it seems I've found something else worth my attention."

Kenji's eyes narrowed slightly, "And what might that be?"

You gave him a slow, knowing smile. "You, of course,” you answered. “You're much more interesting than a simple retrieval mission."

Kenji chuckled, though he tried to hide it. "Flirting isn't going to get you out of there."

"Maybe not," you conceded, stepping closer to the glass, "But it does make this whole situation a lot more entertaining, don't you think?"

Kenji took a step closer, his eyes studying you. "You're not what I expected."

You tilted your head, your smile widening. "Good. I'd hate to be predictable."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you sized each other up. Finally, Kenji spoke. "You know, if you weren't here to take Emi, we might have been able to get along."

"Oh, I think we still can," you said, your voice low and seductive. "Besides, I never said I was strictly here for Emi."

Kenji looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "And what if I let you out?"

You pressed yourself against the glass, your eyes locked on his. "Then maybe, just maybe, we can help each other."

Kenji pondered this for a moment before shaking his head. "Nice try,” he said. “But I need to know more about you before I make that decision."

"Fair enough," you replied, leaning back once more. "But remember, Kenji, sometimes the spider catches more than just her prey."

Kenji turned away, a small smile playing on his lips. "We'll see about that."

You didn’t wanna include this in your escape plan because things rarely went according to plan. But in your mind, you noted: flirt, make him fall for you, and escape.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@moonlight-starlight-lady01 @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan

[nekohooch]

Otakon was amazing. Finally getting to wear my Azem summoning circle gown in person was so much fun. I had multiple people stopping me to gush over my costume and people from HERE telling me they saw it online and were so excited to see it in person. I haven’t been to a con since right before the pandemic and it was so nice to come back to a space I love so much. My goal of someone knowing what I was without me explaining was reached (thanks to the ffxiv photoshoot)! And I can’t wait to see the pictures of the group photo shoot. I added more details to the costume and (minus the stars which were my nemesis falling off the whole day) everything was perfect.

The gown itself took about 100 hours total. 85 originally and 15 to add finishing touches. The top is gold lamé and the chiffon overlay was ripping so I removed it. I have a whole costume breakdown under the tag for the original dress creation.

The necklace has an Azem summoning stone that my fantastic friends brought me from Fanfest which I repurposed. The most added details are the stars. I felt the black spots between the p design and the beams was a bit too big and wanted something to bridge the gap. I also considered adding my statics job symbols in the circles but they keep changing jobs XD

I added some more filigree details to the main Azem design in the front of the gown and individual rhinestones to each of the right angle v filigree and each of the small mirrored circles that make up the big circles because I’m extra along with a gold ribbon for the hem

Then I decided to add lights

Again because I’m extra

I don’t have skill with LEDs so I used individual 6ft fairy lights with tiny battery packs. I painted each battery pack black because the white shows through the skirt especially when lit up. There are about 75-90 battery packs I lost count at 2 am on Wednesday honestly ahaha. I looped them twice up and down so the effect would be less spaced out but I might edit that in the future if I figure LEDs and how to get more powerful ones because they weren’t really strong enough for 10 hours (you can faintly see them in the pictures above) and I kept turning them off when I sat. I used the same petticoat but added a hoop skirt because I was wearing tennis shoes (sadly sensible instead of fashionable) instead of my platform boots.

When people complimented me I would ask if they wanted to see my favorite part (which is spinning) and the laughs and gasps of delight were fantastic. Overall I’m so fucking proud of this costume. Thank you to all of you fab people from the FFXIV coordination who said such kind things I’m so flattered and lovingly overwhelmed. It was an amazing return to cosplay.

[woso-dreamzzz]

If You Were My Little Girl

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia doesn't know you

Jenni.

That's the first thing Alexia thinks of when she sees you.

You're fourteen, playing a five a side game at La Masia. Alexia's dropped in to watch the training session, a few hours early to a meeting she's meant to be having.

Jenni's the one that Alexia thinks of.

You look like her. In your face. In your height. In the way you shoot and find the net.

In the way your face crinkles as you turn to celebrate.

A young Jenni.

Jenni is the first thing Alexia think of when she sees you next.

You're fifteen now and growing into your lanky limbs.

Not much has changed in you since that last time, apart from looking much more self assured. You take shots from distance now. You're accurate as well, the ball going in nine times out of ten.

You've grown into Jenni's features now and Alexia's awestruck by them.

She passively mentions you at the next camp.

Jenni's face goes cloudy, something between annoyance and rage.

"I have no family in Barcelona, Alexia," Is what she says, conversation closed.

But Alexia's not so sure.

She doesn't broach the topic again until a year later.

It's been a while since Alexia has watched a Barcelona B match. She's familiar with a lot of the girls who move up and down into the first team when injuries allow.

Vicky has been the star so far.

Martina too.

You've never been moved up though but Alexia isn't surprised by that. Their front line is packed and with the introduction of Ewa, it's hard to give minutes over to a young striker like you.

Alexia wonders briefly if you'll leave like Julia did or if Barcelona will want to keep you close and send you out on loan.

She'd prefer to keep you.

A La Masia Jenni would be a boost to anyone's team.

You pop goals in like they're easy, grinning and Alexia knows now that Jenni has been lying to her.

Hermoso is what is on your shirt.

You're family and Jenni is a liar.

You turn sixteen at a restaurant in central Barcelona.

Alexia is there but only by accident.

It's after one of her matches and she goes out with her mother and her sister.

They've already sat down when the host comes down to move you and a woman into the table next to them.

You haven't even noticed Alexia, talking to the woman opposite you in rapid Catalan that would never fall from Jenni's lips.

It's your birthday, if the big birthday badge on the front of your shirt is anything to go by.

You dig into your meal happily.

"A gift from your father," The woman says, placing an envelope onto the table.

You were smiling before but your face goes cloudy now, the same kind of cloud that Alexia saw on Jenni's face a few years ago. Annoyance and anger.

You shove it away.

"I don't want it," You say and Alexia doesn't even pretend she's not eavesdropping.

"You need to save up," The woman reminds you," You age out of the system soon."

You look away from her. "I don't need his money."

"You do."

"I don't want it."

"I don't really think it's up to you," The woman says," Think of your future."

You don't answer for a moment before you push your half finished plate away from you.

"I'm done."

"Y/n-"

"I'm finished."

"Not even dessert? You've been wanting the cake from this place for a while now."

Tears spill from your eyes but you keep your voice steady. "I'm not hungry anymore."

You leave your birthday badge at the table along with the envelope.

Alexia doesn't see you for a long few months after that but you never leave her mind.

She keeps up to date with your training, with the way that your coaches have nothing but glowing remarks for you. She thinks you're doing well, in football at least because the next time she physically sees you, you're a mess.

Your hair is unkempt and messy. Your shoulders are slumped and even though you bang in goals, you don't celebrate even when everyone else does.

It's almost like you don't care.

It's almost like you have no passion for football anymore.

"I don't have family in Barcelona, Alexia," Jenni says again when she tries to broach the subject again.

"I know but there's this kid...this girl-"

"I don't have a sister!" Jenni snaps and Alexia takes a step back.

"I didn't say anything about a sister."

Jenni seethes, glancing away as she runs her hand through her own messy hair. "Good. Because I don't have one."

"Just come to a game." Alexia can't stop herself from pushing. She doesn't know what it is, what strange aura you have around you that pushes her to campaign for you. "Just one."

She doesn't know what it is about you that she just needs Jenni to see. What spark in you that she needs Jenni to acknowledge.

"I don't want to. I'm busy."

"I know you're going to a party with Mariona," Alexia says," I know you'll be in the city during one of her games. Please, Jenni. Just one game. You don't even have to talk to her. Just watch."

Jenni agrees only after days of badgering.

Somehow, you look worse than before.

You still bang in goals. a hattrick in the first half and Jenni's thoroughly disinterested, even if you wear her surname on your jersey.

Your hair is a mess and your kit is askew. There are bags under your eyes and your shoulders are hunched over.

You curl into yourself even more when you walk through the tunnel at halftime. Your eyes catch Alexia's.

She's been coming to these matches a lot recently but it's not her that causes you to stop.

Jenni looks down at you from the stands, her face neutral and one singular brow raised when you deign to meet her gaze.

Alexia frowns as your eyes drop and your posture tightens up again, head bowed as you walk away.

"You're still playing? I thought you were told to stop."

"He can't tell me what to do."

"Can't he?"

"Well, he's not exactly my father, is he?"

"You wear his name."

"It's my name!"

"Is it?"

"Don't-Don't tell him. Please."

"He'll find out sooner or later. A club like Barcelona, what were you thinking?"

"Please...Please."

"Quit while you're ahead, kid. Finish up your season and find something else to do."

"I-"

"It's for your own good, okay?"

Alexia rounds the corner at the end of the match.

You're sobbing, tears rolling down your cheeks as you slam your head against the stone wall.

"Hey...Hey!"

Alexia shoves her hand between your skull and the wall, trying to pillow the impact as much as possible.

You're still sobbing and Alexia pulls you into her arms, pressing your head into her neck as you shake.

"I-I have to quit."

"No you don't," She says," It's okay. You don't have to quit."

"I do."

These are the first words she's even spoken to you.

You know she watches you. You know that she lurks and analyses and sees something in you that keeps her coming back again and again.

You don't even know her. Not personally anyway.

Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Everyone knows who she is, a legend.

You know her the same amount that you know your own sister.

Which isn't much.

She doesn't really know you either. Knows the same amount about you as your own sister.

But here she is, holding you as you sob after one of the best games of your life, holding you after you've been told to leave this all behind.

"It's okay. No one's going to make you quit if you don't want to."

"I have to."

"You don't," Alexia promises," I'll make sure of it."

[dark-konohagakure2]

hii, love your works, can I request a fic where Neji punishes his little cousin for rejecting him and noncons her, with a little breeding kink too, thank you :))

tw: incest, cousin/cousin, noncon, dysfunctional family dynamics, breeding, misogyny, light degradation, power imbalance

All characters depicted are 18+

Neji despises the main branch, not as much as he did in his boyhood, but resentment and loathing still remain deep within the genius' heart. There are exceptions of course, he doesn't hate Lady Hinata or her younger sister, and he certainly doesn't hate his other younger cousin from the main branch of the Hyuga.

Neji doesn't hate her, but she thinks the complete opposite is the case judging by how the male Hyuga treats her, he's incredibly condescending to the pampered Hyuga princess, treating her like she's a dumb child compared to his own genius intellect. Neji is also something of a control freak, correcting every little thing she does when she does something he deems as incorrect. Neji isn't trying to be mean, his idiotic little princess needs him, and in more ways than one.

Pressure for Neji to produce an heir has been mounting, despite him being from the side branch, he is the prodigy of the Hyuga clan, and whatever child he has will posses even greater potential than him, so Neji fathering a child would he beneficial for all involved, and Neji can only think of one suitable mother for his future children.

But to Neji's shock, his airheaded cousin rejects him, him! The prodigy of their clan, a genius that many women in the village would kill to be with, and his very own family member has the audacity to reject him? Neji isn't happy at all. The Hyuga man will make his distaste for her rejection of his gracious offering of his seed very known, pinning her down right then and there with surprising strength.

"I didn't want to resort to this, little cousin, but it seems that all that time around the main branch has turned you into an ingrate. If you won't accept my gift, I'll just have to plant it inside of you myself."

Neji isn't the most brutish man, but he's still strong, able to hold her down with very little effort. He'd really prefer to properly breed her in his bed like the gentleman he is, but she lost that privilege the very moment she selfishly and thoughtlessly decided to decline his gracious offer, so instead Neji fucks her right there on the floor like the common whore she's behaving like.

Normally he wouldn't be so rough with his thrusts, but he's very cross with her, so Neji will forego any pretense of gentleness whatsoever, thrusting into her hole at a nearly breakneck pace that threatens to stretch her walls to their absolute limit. Neji will thrust into her at an angle that nearly guarantees that he'll get her pregnant, his cockhead kissing her cervix as Neji fucks her in a position that maximizes the depth of the penetration.

He doesn't want to make too much noise, he's already fucking her in a risky enough place as it is, and he isn't doing to debase himself by being caught fucking his spoiled brat of a cousin, so he'll keep his hand clamped over her mouth the entire time so as not to alert anyone that might be nearby. Neji himself doesn't make too much noise during the act, aside from a few quiet groans and venomous whispers into her ear, the only time his volume will rise significantly is when he's cumming inside of her, and with what his end goal is, Neji is going to be cumming in her a lot.

Neji is nothing if not precise and through, he won't settle for shooting just one puny rope of cum inside of her, he's going to leave her thoroughly saturated with his potent seed before he's finally done with her, and he's not going to let a single drop of his intelligence go to waste, even if he is shooting it into a stubborn bimbo's womb. When he finally is done Neji will be curt, leaving her with a tummy full of cum and a word of cousinly advice.

"You won't tell Lord Hiashi a word about this. In fact, nobody in the clan will believe you even if you do tell, and even if they did, they'll just think you're lucky to be impregnated by a prodigy like myself."

Neji knows that when it comes to the Hyuga clan, he's completely untouchable. The chances that anyone will believe the bratty princess of the clan over the genius Neji are slim to none, and even if the truth does get out, it's unlikely that anyone will receive blame besides her.

[magicalgirlmel]

Anime dropped this year 22: Shoot! Goal to the Future

1 episode watched 4/10

[littlemisstpk]

The difficult thing about getting really into a relatively obscure and old sports anime is that it feels like there's no one out there to yell with me about it. I may create a fandom tag on Ao3. All for the stupid, melodramatic precursor to last summer's so-bad-it's-entertaining soccer anime Shoot!.

Which is surprisingly in the same tone as the original (Aoki Densetsu Shoot!). It's just that the original could spread it all out.

Anyway, brain has decided that Kamiya/Kubo is the best thing ever.

[bloomingkyras]

Taryn though, that they both just playing basketball like they usually do on weekend night but turn out.. Jar'deen is going to shoot her there 🙈. And she said YES 💕💕 she will be join Harper-rose and Eden soon @estah ☺☺

[hadeelsamir]

Please help me

https://gofund.me/fdd492ab

Peace be upon you. Support the family of Hadeel, an orphan, in their search for safety and escape from the genocide. I created a fundraising campaign to secure my family's safe travel to Egypt. Hadeel used to live in the city of Khan Yunis with her mother, who was suffering from chronic diseases, and her younger brother. Hadeel is twenty-nine years old. She graduated from university with a degree in public relations and media. She is an ambitious young woman who worked in several jobs serving and building her community. However, the genocide brought conflict and destruction. Hadeel became unemployed and homeless for her family. Hadeel lost everything she worked to build

It is very difficult to say that we have lost everything, it is like a recurring nightmare that we live every day. We have lost our beautiful and peaceful life and our warm and safe home. Our dreams of a bright and promising future have been shattered.

My tragic story with my family began with the beginning of the ground invasion in Khan Younis city when the Israeli army surprised the citizens living in Al-Mawasi, a safe place according to the Israeli army, early in the morning by shooting and shooting at anyone who moved. No matter what they were. My family and I were trapped in our beautiful home for 24 hours until we found a way and sneaked to safety so that they could survive for the first time.

We managed to find a way to escape to Rafah city,

We left all our belongings behind us, we were only carrying some money and important papers, we could not sleep that night. The next morning, we bought a tent trying to make it look like a shelter.

We spent 3 months in Rafah city not knowing what happened to our home that we left behind.

The area where my family and I used to live, the place where our beautiful home is located, I can no longer truly recognize it.

Your generosity and support could make a huge difference in saving our lives. The only way out of Gaza now is through the Rafah crossing, which requires a $5,000 fee.

Every donation, no matter how small, will help secure our safe exit from Rafah to a more stable environment in Egypt. Your kindness will provide us with the opportunity to rebuild our lives and have renewed hope for the future.

I humbly appeal for your compassion and kindness in helping with the urgent evacuation of me and my family. Your contributions will be a lifeline that will enable us to escape the perilous conditions we are currently living in.

Thank you for your compassion and support in this critical time of need.

With gratitude,

Hadeel

We humbly ask that those of you who can contribute do so, even if it is just one dollar. Every cent counts. Please also take the time to share this fundraiser on social media and through word of mouth to reach as many people as possible. This may be a big goal, but we have faith that the community can and will rise to the occasio

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.❞

A love letter from your future spouse

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Pac Summary!

♡ A fs love letter.

♡ One angel number with an intuitive message/meaning of the number.

♡ Resonated channeled song and its lyrics with intuitive messages added to it.

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I

Hi love, hi sunshine.

What's up? How are you doing, my pretty flower? Well, in all honesty, I am awful with words, and a love letter is hard, but I will suck it up just to show my love for you.

Sometimes. When I look at the stars, I will think about you. Sometimes, when I glance at lily ponds, I will daydream about you. And sometimes when I call you, I fawn over the little things you do, because every little thing you do is incredibly beautiful and deserves to be fawn over.

Sometimes, when I struggle and miss your presence, I remember that I can always call you and ramble about the small things during my days. I can find that solace even if we are far apart... And sometimes that scares me because what if we lost touch with one another—that I would never get to see you? All of these doubts eat me alive, but then I hear your small laughs about my days, and all of them disappear.

Do you think one day we could start a family? Maybe I believe anything is possible—after all, I landed someone as perfect as you (psst, I manifested you). So the fact that I have you as my lover makes me wonder if I can ever have kids with you. We can adopt too; I don't care, but having biological kids with you would also be so lovely.. After all, everything about you is lovely. I am someone who always gives too much love to others, so if it's too much, let me know, but loving you is so easy. How can one stop that? That scares me.. If you ever told me to stop loving you so much, it would make me feel like I was losing a small part of myself. Quite frankly, I don't think I could ever deal with that—I just, I just couldn't.

When I looked at the sky the other day, I kept thinking about our connection. I know we don't know each other. Hell, I'm fucking daydreaming about you right now, but I really want to see you. Maybe one day we will meet each other, and when we do, I will become the happiest person alive. Because the idea of loving someone I am manifesting is something.. It's.. it's just. I can't express it with words, but it's definitely something so magical. Everything in my heart is fluttering with happiness because I get to see you smile in my presence. I always thought I wasn't worthy of love. Look at us. Fuck. Thank you for loving me.

Thank you (x5) for loving me.

Fs. 

I was listening to Terrified by Katharine McPhee, and as I was editing your reading at "when I look at stars'' the song said, ''every word feels like a shooting star.'' So for those who have doubts about this relationship, do understand that this is really your confirmation.

Angel numbers: 1222

Meaning of 1222 through an intuitive message. 1 is usually associated with goals and what you're looking for. 2 is usually associated with reminding you that everything is going to be okay and that you are in the right place. Combining both of them, intuition says, ‘’you are in the right place. All the hard work you have been doing for yourself—all the shadow work that you have been journaling, all the beautiful messages you have been giving to yourself—is what will help you find your goals. Your ideas which you keep postponing are something that needs to be done. Stop procrastinating and do it right now. You will never know when the right time comes since it doesn't exist. Make it your right time.’’ Basically, intuition says there is no such thing as diving timing. Divine timing doesn't actually exist since it's all about healing and treating ourselves with kindness. It's all about what we do during those times we have during our isolation, or, in a positive sense, our resting period. Truthfully, since you are working on yourself and removing your inner demons for yourself and not for others (since I heard that a lot of people think you are doing it for a boy when you aren't), you can attract your future spouse with the speed of light and grab the fruits. The fruits are your manifestations or your wishes in life. 

Channeled song: 

Invisible - Hunter Hayes

‘’And you've been trying for so long / To find out where your place is.’’ This is about you trying to figure out where you belong. Intuition says people in your life believe all the hard work you are doing is for this man, your ex, or someone you used to have feelings for. The people in your circle are very close-minded, but deep down inside, the fear of letting go of these connections scares you, so you let them stay. If I were in your place, I would let them go since people like that don't deserve to be in my world. And I feel like some of you will say, ‘’yeah because you aren't dealing with it’’ and for those who have said that, lol, I just let go of a friend group like that 2-3 weeks ago. So let them go and realize all the beauty that will come out of it.

‘’And you're not invisible / Hear me out / There's so much more to life than what you're feeling now / Someday you'll look back on all these days / And all this pain is gonna be invisible.’’ This is your future spouse calling out to you and yearning for your love. They are letting you know that when you look back on your life, you are not only going to feel blessed with how your life went but also come to the realization that there is more to life than the negativity you are feeling and associating yourself with. This person is going to make you feel like magic, (which is something you deserve, and you cannot tell me otherwise).

‘’So your confidence is quiet / To them, quiet looks like weakness / But you don't have to fight it / 'Cause you're strong enough to win without a war.’’ Basically, intuition says your intuition and higher self are telling you, ‘’even though you are a quiet person. Despite you being timid, none of these are bad qualities; it makes you stronger because you are observing everything and you know others' deepest, darkest secrets through their behaviors. So don't let your skills go in vain.’’ To sum it up, if there is any confusion, people perceive quiet and shy people as fragile and needing help, but in reality, it could be that or they have no desire to speak to people that do not intrigue them or aren't worth their time. People don't see that because they are lost in fitting in with the crowd. Your higher self and my intuition are saying, don't fit in the crowd and do your own thing. Not only will that attract your fs but also heal your heart that you have been blocking with bricks to protect yourself from the pain your inner circle is causing and your deadbeat parent (I hear father, but I also believe it could be the mother for some).

‘’These labels that they give you is just 'cause they don't understand / If you look past this moment / You'll see you've got a friend / Waving a flag for who you are.’’ And lastly :), this is your fs telling you that they will always have your back no matter what. And they love you so fucking badly. Emphasis on so fucking badly, I could hear your fs tell me to add that in. 

Masterlist ♡

Pile II

Hi, my love. 

As your future spouse, it’s my duty to defend and honor our promises, but sometimes I mess up because I'm shy. I'm sorry in advance, but I try very hard, but I mess things up. Sometimes I feel like a child when you scold me.. I know sometimes you feel disappointed with the things I do, but I ask you.. As of now, please treat me with more dignity and respect. I'm human, just like you. Do you think a child deserves this treatment? No. 

Okay, before I fully channel everything, this pile has toxic energy. You have caused your fs an insane amount of anxiety and trauma, so now that you are aware of this. Why don't you improve as a person? This person is absolutely soft and adorable, and they do not deserve that type of energy).

Sometimes, at night, I like to walk along the streams or near our pond area in our backyard and feel the coolness around my feet. The water tickles my feet gently, and the water droplet splashes around the soles of my feet. The feeling is so warm and relaxing, just like you once were. What happened to that? Why did you let them take away (your name's)  golden heart? Why do I deserve the same treatment when I was by your side this whole time? I was never and will never be your enemy, so please change for the better. I want (your name) back; (your gender) was deserving of the greatest, and so am I. Please go back to them and let me honor my promise again. I wanted to protect you, but now it’s too hard. I cannot do it anymore. I am writing this love letter to you in the hopes that you change for the better. In hopes my words and my love being poured onto this can shift you and make you realize that you are now the reason I despise myself, the reason why I struggle to love myself. I don't want to stay in this stale situation; I want to move on, and I want you to move on and treat me better. So maybe.. I will now try to show you the love we felt when we met instead of now. Since you feel like poison.

When we danced in the park that one night, the moonlight shone on top of us. Like we were the main characters of a romantic movie. Do you remember that feeling when we were laughing together and I finally saw you smile? That happiness shattering your stoic face—it was incredible. I realized that that was the moment I fell in love with you. My heart jumped out of my chest that day. Do you remember when we had small dates with each other and you bought me something small? You thought I wouldn't wear it because of your ex(es), but I did, and your eyes widen. Do you remember that softness appearing on your face that day? I remember it vividly. I blushed that day and hid it with a cough. Do you remember me constantly coughing that day, and you wondered why this was happening? Do you remember how I kicked your shoes and said it was an accident so you could look under the table and not notice me covering my flushed face because of that facial expression you had? The realization that someone did, in fact, love you. God, I remember that feeling so well. It made me so happy. I remember all of these small moments with you, and I know that you will. One day, it will happen just as it should.. But then something happened: you shut everyone away, especially me, and sabotage everything at the end because it was better to be a cold-hearted bitch than stay and let me protect you. Please, (your name), realize that I love you despite what you have done to me. I can forgive you; I really can, but I want your real self back. Let me love them, let me shower them with compliments; just let me back in. 

I forgive you,

Fs. 

So this is written in past and future tense. Of course, these dates haven’t happened for you, however, I wasn’t able to channel them from a present perspective for the majority of the letter. They were focused on pouring their love on you without thinking. It was a desperate call for you to change and not become cold. And for many of you, not for you to become the one thing you hated. So instead, learn to heal your open wounds and better yourself instead of being an ass in the future. 

Angel number: 777.

Usually, 777 is associated with good luck, or good luck and prosperity are heading your way. However, intuition says, ‘’despite good luck (your fs) coming your way, allowing those icky thoughts to reappear constantly in your head is what will mess things up in the future with your fs. In order to remove these thoughts, work on your inner feelings and improve yourself. Do not allow evil to invade who you are as a person, and instead, allow the kindness that you still have to shine upon you and shield you from the dangers of others. Become the person you desire and still love. Do not become them, you will be miserable.’’ So, basically, working on your inner feelings is healing your inner demons. Everyone deals with them, but it’s our responsibility to actually take care of them and make them angels, or, in this case, remove them from your system. Taking care of them or removing them, however you see fit, is all about being kind to yourself and removing the high standards you have for yourself. And in order to be kind to yourself, think of your favorite person, object, whatever, and think, ‘’would I be a jackass to them/it?’’ No, you would treat it or them with respect and love because it’s your favorite thing. Think of it like that with yourself. You can use your kindness to protect yourself. Usually, kindness has a bad reputation because people who are kind either become people pleasers, get taken advantage of, etc., but you could always balance your kindness and rational thoughts so you don’t get hurt like your future self did. Because this situation has not occurred yet, as of now, try to balance those two out. Also, imagine that (your favorite color) aura or bubble is surrounding you and protecting you from evil. 

Channeled anime: 

Death Note 

I am aware this is completely different, and you were promised a song, but I wasn’t able to do that as Light from death note kept appearing in my mind. For those who are watching this, ignore this since there are spoilers, and if you are still curious, I’ll keep it as vague as I can. 

(Please, remember, this is about your future self. Not your present self). 

The reason my intuition mentioned an anime instead of a song is how Light, the main character, became the person he hated. This is what you have become. His desires were to protect the innocent, but ultimately he did the opposite. As time goes on throughout the show, he starts to become power-hungry, but in your case, it’s a lust for isolation. He saw everything as a game, and with you, you used your kindness as an advantage to abuse your spouse (I know you are saying you would never, but you did in the future). And also, hurt your friends to gain advantages or small tokens of something to get ahead of life and get whatever you want. Not only, in the future, do you break your morals, lose your respect from others and your inner child, but fuck things up all for power. Power, isolation, and hatred for what others did to you. Do you believe this is worth it just because you were hurt? Why do you want to hurt people who didn't do anything? You got hurt, sought revenge on those who didn't hurt you, and became like your abusers. Your future self keeps mentioning, ‘’karma’s a bitch.’’ And yet, how can it be if it’s aimed at those who cannot do much? I know you want to be protected and understood, but how can you if you allowed this to occur and pushed those away who were, in fact, protecting you but in the shadows? Use this as your guide and change for the better since fate doesn’t exist, not really. And if you believe in it, then change your fate. Become your own guide and improve. Because your energy will be awful, the way you have treated others in the future will be awful, and I feel the anxiety radiating off of you—you don't like who you have become in the future. So, don't change, protect yourself instead.

Masterlist ♡

Pile III

Hi sun, hellooo to my sun. Hi, hi, hiiii, hi. 

I’m saying a lot of hi to you because I'm ecstatic to be around you. Your personality makes me very happy, yay. You're reading this right now, so lucky me. I just have to say this: I wish right now you were with me so I could run to you, jump into your arms, and peck you like a goose, and if you ever become sick with me, well, you can't! I won't allow it, so that means you can’t pick someone else; only me, me and drum roll, please! Me!

I really love talking to you–OH wait, well, we haven't met yet, but I do! We will stay up all night talking to each other, and the thought makes me giggle~ You are my favorite sun person… Well, I know you are going to call me the sun, but nope! I am the star around the moon waiting for you, so when you go up and chase your ambitious goals, I am at home rooting for you. Sorry, I'm a homebody, so I don't like going out so much, but I'll go out just for you! That is how special you are; of course, I can't really explain it through this letter, so we have to meet first! With that being said, you are the sun because you brighten up my world and everyone around you. I know right now you are feeling depressed, but fear not! I am coming; actually, psttt, I am dashing towards you like Sonic, and if Mario had a baby, wait. NO WAIT, I MEANT IF SONIC AND THE FLASH HAD A BABY OMG NOOO IM SORRY. As I was saying, coughs if Sonic and the flash had a baby together—that’s how fast I am coming to–ru–RUNNING TO YOU, FUCK IM SORRY. I'M SO EXCITED, I KNOW I DON'T HAVE TO APOLOGIZE BUT I AM EXCITED. Anyway, as I am saying, I am running to you if the flash and Sonic had a baby together, because that’s how fast I am, and in other places, if you know what I mean, raising my eyebrows in a funny but sexy way. 

Oh, that reminds me, btw: don't eat green apples when we meet because you're going to choke on them and die! No, I am joking about the die part, but you do choke a lot, and I become very scared because we are friends at that time, and well, I think youre going to die, but I know that you aren't, but I think you might, so it scares me and I can't handle it, and now I am rambling, but you get the point, so no apples for a week, so that means you are kind of like a horse on a diet... Even though they eat apples, imagine that you are a horse who can't eat apples! Yes!!! Oh, wait, why would you be a horse? Okay, wait, it doesn't matter because you are my horse, so that makes me a princess/prince and therefore you gotta protect me. Wait.

This is a love letter, NOOOOOOO, wait. Lets start! I love you so much. You make me so happy that I can ramble on for no reason, and you are enjoying every part of it. Thats why I like things about you because you listen to me and hear me out, and you make me happy. I am rambling again, but this time it doesn't matter because it's all abouttttt yooooouuuuu. Yeah so i love you A LOT and YOU mean the WOOOORRRRLLLLDDDD to me and thank you for being–THANK YOU FOR–WAIT. I AM GLAD THAT I WILL MEET YOU, SO THEN THANK YOU FOR BEING IN MY WORLD. All this present and future stuff is making my head spin, like those anime drawings of the characters or the other animations or drawing pieces you see on websites or drawing platforms. Oh yeah, did you know that I am an artist? Yeah, me neither, thats because you taught me how to draw gremlin laugh, but yeah, cya later!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The bestestttt (not a word i know that shut up, grumpy face) perrrrrrssssssoooooooonnnnn evvvvveeeeeerrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!! Ya gal/lad is outie five thousand!

I kept feeling rambling and childlike wonder with your future spouse. You make them very comfortable with who they are as a person, and with this, they can channel their inner child with you. You will show them new hobbies, and because of this, in the future, it will become their career. So despite this, if some of you are not artists, you will be opening a new world for them in the art field because art isn’t only drawing, animation, etc.; it does have music or poetry involved. 

Angel number: 1313.

On an energy level, the number symbolizes a goal you had in mind shifting and transforming into your reality because you were able to trust your gut feelings and allow things to come into your nature. You used to be afraid of change or those who gave you things; asking for help scared you. Now you are healing toward that goal and learning to let go when people help. You are able to prioritize things that make you happy, even if it’s a one-time thing, because chasing things does become hard, but knowing now that you are able to get the things you want makes you blessed. You embody the attitude of gratitude, and from now on until the end of August, things will come in abundance. Keep embodying this attitude to further it until the end of the year. When the end of the year comes, make more goals for yourself, but find goals that are worth what you are looking for. Understand who your higher self is, and ask them what goals helped them become who they are now. Your higher self isn’t necessarily your future self; you worked hard to become your desired self. So make sure you learn what is actually important for you while also listening to the same gut feeling that you have. People say 13 in general is an unlucky number. Still, some people ditch their ideas on the number and make it their favorite number. Intuition says not to follow people’s guidance when it comes to things that don't make sense; don’t follow the crowd if it’s not something you are actually agreeing on or intrigued with. Make sure to follow what you believe in, and if people find that to be stubborn, then who cares? Make sure you do things that make you happier in the long term before you meet this ray of sunshine. 

Channeled Song: 

Sunsetz - Cigarettes after sex

‘’Strangely, there's nobody else around / So you open your dress and show me your t*ts / On the swing set at the old playground / And when you go away I still see you / The sunlight on your face in my rearview.’’ Aside from the 18+ nature of the song, the minute I heard it play, I knew it was from your future spouse. As we are aware, they are full of light and embody a star nature; this song beat felt the same way. When the song said, ‘’Strangely, there's nobody else around / So you open your dress and show me your t*ts’’ I heard your future spouse laugh at this because, despite their gender, they are prone to being open about the sexual world. And the idea of showing their chest to you makes them excited. Of course, this isn’t an 18+ reading, so I cannot add more. ‘’On the swing set at the old playground / And when you go away I still see you’’  is about them showing you all of their childish nature and you accepting them. Because I hear your future spouse mention, ‘’thank you very much for accepting me for who I am. I had many people ignore me or disrespect me constantly because I had to act my age. But you were the only one in the entire worrrrrldddd to accept and love me without expecting anything.’’ Also, intuitively, they are always going to daydream cute scenarios with you and see you as a cutie despite your rough nature. Because everywhere they go and explore the depths of the world, you will have to accompany them. In the flesh or not. They will daydream you near them if you cannot make it or if it's a long-distance relationship (for some). 

‘’A love that nobody could destroy / Took photographs like Brautigan's book covers / That we both adored.’’ So, I feel a lot of third parties coming into this relationship on their side. A lot of people are jealous of them and cannot handle the fact that they finally found someone who appreciates their true qualities. So a lot of toxic people will try to sabotage the friendship at first and then eventually the relationship, and they are naive, so they might believe it, so be careful with that. Eventually, though, I do see them realizing it, and the fact that you stayed makes them love you harder, hence all the ramblings (you making them comfortable to do so). Both of you are going to take a lot of pictures together and post them on social media, whereas those who don’t use social media often will make collages out of them and decorate them around their room or apartment. Some will hide it from their parents, and others will boast about it positively. Just stay careful, because you never know other people’s intentions with it. ‘’That we both adored.’’ This just shows how healthy and beautiful the relationship will become for you when they ask you out. I feel a lot of you always ask other people out, and you have mentioned it to them once, so the idea of asking you out makes them happy because it’s removing a boulder off your shoulder. All I will say is that they will be the reason why you find true happiness since a majority of you are chasing the idea of happiness. With them, you can feel it and keep it; it’s not a one time thing; this leads to a beautiful thing. I’ll stop here since I don't want to give you any spoilers about it. 

Masterlist ♡

Pile IV

Tw: Abuse

Hi, my dear,

Right now, I have been feeling down in the dumps. Things have been tough, very tough. Lately, I have been struggling to find happiness in my life. And I was praying for something, anything to feel something. But nothing came through, this broke me further. Then I started to realize something.. Why should I ask someone for help when I can do it myself?

So that is what I have been doing. I'm working on myself, so when we meet, you have someone you can be devoted to. I know it sounds like I'm not actually taking care of myself, but I am. And it sounds like I am only working on myself for you, as if all of this is for you and not me; some of it is partially true, but at the same time, I am thinking of myself. It’s important that you do the same thing, because I know you like to do things for other people but don't.

You know, I see you struggling to get your job or homework done. I am in the same boat. We are the same after all. I think it’s special that we are on the same path, the same journey, and most of all, the same love level. We both had it rough with a lover, but you know what? We can make that our special bond; I'm not saying that is what our relationship is about—I'm saying it could connect us further and see where everything takes us. You know how people bond over something negative, and that makes them fall for one another? I don't want that. (I hear them laughing and then smiling). All I am saying with my gibberish words is that sometimes people use their trauma to bond with each other, but they can like other things. Does that make sense? Sorry, love, I'm absolute garbage with words. Everything is a mess, isn't it? Again, sorry. Now, I want to start with the actual love letter.

Dear (your name),

Our future is bright. It’s beautiful. I will be the one to shower you with all the riches and luxuries in the world, and all I ask for is your beautiful heart. The heart that you have hidden from the world from all the negativities you were given isn't you anymore. We are connected like one. This is your reward for still staying sane. I know everything as of now is complicated, but do know I will find you one day, have a rose in my hand, and ask you to be mine. I know that sometimes you doubt if I will ever come, but remember that those who wait have the best rewards. Sure, I sound arrogant, but no, I know my worth in the future, and I know you will too. It’s okay to appear arrogant; what matters is on the inside. People's judgment is useless, just like their opinions of us. So don't focus on their chaotic and negative words; focus on what I tell you. I want to guide you and make you love yourself so much. Even when you know your worth, let me show you all that you can know. I want to marry you one day. I want to bathe you with all of my love. I want everything from you, and I will give you everything. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. I know that we haven't met, but I will say the same thing because it’s the truth. This is why I love you, (your full name). Thank you for being my blessing and for being my princess (regardless of your gender). 

Take care with lots of love,

fs.

Angel number: 2266 

2 is about being in the right place, and whoever you believe in is telling you that you shouldn’t worry. 6 is about mental diet, focusing on the positive to align you with your higher self. Whenever negative thoughts appear, remind yourself that this isn’t good for you. Negativity isn't good for anyone. Remind yourself that you are deserving of love. Learn to heal with patience and care. If you force yourself to heal, you never will. Forcing ourselves isn’t consistency; it’s abuse. Sure, sometimes it looks like it helps us, but then we stop doing it and relapse into the same loop. Do you like to be controlled and forced by others? I doubt it. Don't do the same thing; you are not deserving of it. What you are deserving of is love. Give yourself the love you deserve and need. It's important that you prioritize yourself instead of others' needs since people come and go, and don't be the one to let yourself go for someone else. It's not worth it, and your love and presence aren't determined by whether someone appreciates the good deeds you do for others. Your worth is dependent on what you do for yourself, so if you believe taking time for yourself and doing something for yourself is selfish, then it's selfish. But would you say the same thing to the people you work your ass off for? No, don't be a hypocrite to yourself. 

 Channeled song:

Therapy Session - NF

‘’My music is violent, you gotta be kidding me. I guess that your definition of violence and mine is something that we look at differently.’’ This is your fs telling you to start looking at things differently. You always see the good in people, even when they make a mistake. Even when they piss you off, even when they hurt you (not by accident), you always forgive them without a second thought. Don't do that, it’s hurting you just like it’s hurting them. ‘’Do you honestly want to be stuck in quicksand all the time? Don't do that, princess. I cannot handle it.’’ 

‘’How do you picture me, huh? Want me to smile? You want me to laugh? You want me to walk on the stage with a smile on my face. When I'm mad and put on a mask? For real though!’’ This is how both of you feel. Always wearing a mask and acting around for other people’s entertainment. It’s not worth it to put on a mask unless you have to protect yourself. Intuition says that you do, but remember to be careful. Do not do things that you cannot control, so if someone says otherwise and then threatens you because you didn’t. Then try to not allow them to step on you and subtly mention something to get their insults away from you. For example, intuition says, ‘’when you see them talking crap about you, don’t allow it. Stand up for yourself with something small. If they say how disgusting or how ugly you looked today, tell them that you disagree, and that’s it. Keep in mind that protecting yourself isn’t always causing war with one another, but saying something like this can stop a lot of issues and keep it as if you are having a normal conversation.’’ 

 ‘’I am aware it's aggressive. I am not here for acceptance.’’ Your future spouse is telling you to stop seeking acceptance from the people you help. Learn to seek acceptance from yourself. That is the person you have at the end of the day. Intuition is telling me some of you are a system (DID). So intuitively speaking, rely on your protectors. Ask them to take care of you and help guide you when people are rude to you. I know controlling and altering isn’t like control, but intuition says, ‘’ask them. Let them know how you are feeling, and ask them like a friend. It’s okay to vent to them; they want to help you after all. Those who do not accept you because of what you went through are not worth your time or the value you place on them. You are deserving of more, but you must allow it to come through.’’ 

‘’Apparently he likes to beat on her mama. I got so angry inside. I wanted to tell her to give me his number. But what you gon' do with it right? You gon' hit him up then he'll start hitting her harder.’’ This is your life. Your energy. It can be switched where your mom beats your dad, stepdad. Your grandparents, etc. Your future spouse will be protecting you from them, (and yes, they will love you despite having DID, loves. Don’t worry). Except instead of the abuser hitting your guardian more or you, they won’t allow it. I am hearing a cop signal sound, so it’s possible that they will beat your abuser endlessly and get your abuser to jail (this is for some), and on the other hand, expect someone who is going to love you dearly and protect you from the “wicked witch of the west. I’ll protect you with all of my heart, and my soul is yours as your soul is mine.’’ 

Masterlist ♡

[nats--sw]

Leah with a goalkeeper kid is awesome! Any chance we can get Mary & Hannah’s reaction?

this wasn’t in the plans,, but I went for it anyway, it’s under 1000 words, so it’s a quick one, sorry for taking so long this is a short from this

It was a special day at the England national team training camp. Amidst preparations for the next round of friendlies, the team had set aside a couple of hours to film media content. The atmosphere was relaxed, the usual high energy focus shifted to something lighter.

Mary had just stepped out of the dressing room, busy adjusting her gloves, when Leah approached her with a grin that made her look far too pleased with herself. The kind of grin that always made Mary suspicious.

“What’s going on, Leah?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow, curious about the mischievous glint in Leah’s eyes.

“I’ve got a challenge for you” Leah announced, looping her arm through Mary’s and gently steering her in the opposite direction from where Mary was supposed to be.

“Hang on, I’m supposed to shoot some videos with Hannah” Mary protested, though she didn't resist that much.

“Change of plans, Mary” Leah said, her grin widening.

Mary was about to argue when she spotted Hannah nearby, standing next to a little girl carrying an armful of balls. 

“Wait... is that your daughter?” Mary asked, a touch of surprise her voice as she recognised Olivia.

“Yup” Leah said proudly.

Mary raised both eyebrows now, half-wondering how Leah had managed to sneak her daughter into a national team media day. But given the relaxed vibe of the day, she figured it was one of those rare occasions where bending the rules was allowed.

“Hi Mary!” Olivia came running up to them, beaming as she high fived Mary enthusiastically.

“Hey Livy!” Mary grinned, leaning down to her level. Then in a mock whisper, she added, “Does your mum know you’re here?”

Olivia gave her a cheeky smile and pressed her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Mary chuckled, shaking her head.

Hannah sidled up to Mary “Did you hear the news, Mary?”

Mary glanced at her teammate “What news?”

Leah came back with Olivia by her side, hands resting on her daughter’s shoulders, grinning even wider. “Looks like we’ve got your replacement lined up for when you retire.”

Olivia blushed a little under her mother’s proud gaze but stood tall, already wearing her gloves. Mary blinked, caught between amusement and admiration.

“Is that right?” Mary said, smiling down at Olivia “Well then, show me.”

“You're throwing them wrong on purpose, mom!” Olivia huffed, her cheeks flushed from the effort as she stood in the goal, catching her breath. It was the third shot in a row she had saved, her face glowing with pride. She stood under the goalposts they used for training, fully suited up in her keeper gear, proudly breaking in the new gloves Leah had bought her a few days earlier.

“I doubt it, kiddo. Your mom’s not exactly famous for her penalties” Mary teased from the sidelines, her voice laced with amusement.

Leah shot her a playful glare “I’ll take that as a compliment to my daughter and not a dig at me, thanks” she quipped, positioning another ball at her feet “Ready Livy?”

Olivia nodded enthusiastically, clapping her gloved hands together before crouching into position, her eyes locked on her mom.

“It’s going to the right!” Leah called out, sending the ball flying toward the left instead, hoping to throw her daughter off.

But Olivia was quick. With a determined leap, she deflected the ball with a firm swipe of her gloved hand, sending it out of bounds.

“Brilliant!” Mary cheered, bursting into laughter “The future of England’s got some serious hands!” Without hesitation, she jogged over, scooping Olivia up onto her shoulders.

All Olivia could do was giggle as Mary paraded her around the field, circling Leah, who had dramatically collapsed onto the grass, feigning defeat.

Leah, her face a mix of pride and amusement, sat up and dusted the dirt off her knees “Alright, alright, you win this round” she called out with a smirk, watching the two of them.

Mary, still carrying Olivia, shot Leah a mischievous grin “Great. Now, Livy, I’m going to teach you how to shout at your defenders so they don’t mess up”

“Ugh” Leah groaned, tilting her head back in mock dread. She couldn’t help but remember all the times Mary had scolded her for messing up on the pitch.

Olivia beamed from atop Mary’s shoulders, her eyes sparkling “Does this mean I get to play with Mary more often?”

Leah chuckled, shaking her head with a fond smile “We’ll see, Livy”

Mary finally set Olivia back down, ruffling the little girl’s hair “Anytime kiddo. Just give me a call and we’ll sort out a session”

Leah stood and walked over, wrapping her arm around Olivia “Alright, how about we head back inside before anyone realizes we’ve completely hijacked media day?”

Olivia nodded eagerly, still glowing with pride as they made their way towards the dressing room.