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#i have no energy for any facial expressions
glossykris · 9 months
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pucksandpower · 3 months
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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
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“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.
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temeraire · 1 year
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i use so many exclamation marks and cute abbreviations and silly typing styles and then offline i have a monotone voice and i get told im creepy for not making an expression. like sorry thts how my face looks when i cant say "<333333 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!" out loud
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homicidal-slvt · 11 months
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Thoughts on COD men favorite way to cuddle? Personally I believe Soap likes to lay directly on top of his partner, he’s a whore for head scratches. Please any soft headcanons you have for 141+LV would do rn. I just need some soft boys. 🥹
How Do They Cuddle?
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COD SFW Head-Canons
Characters: John Price, Johnny Mactavish, Simon Riley, Kyle Garrick, Alex Keller, Gary Sanderson, Nikolai, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, Kate Laswell, Valeria Garza, Phillip Graves, König, Farah Karim
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Warnings: None- Just Fluff.
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John Price
Loves to pull you into his arms in bed and be the big spoon, honestly okay with most cuddle positions.
Will lay on top of you and snuggle but it's typically unintentionally in his sleep- like a weighted blanket that snores and sleep talks.
Will pass out immediately if you rub his shoulders.
Johnny Mactavish
Absolutely adores laying on top of you with his head on your chest, your heartbeat soothes him and lord help him if you scratch his head- he may just drool.
Any and all types of spooning is welcome, will be the little or big spoon.
Hands on you every chance he is given, tugging you close in bed and nearly roasting you because this man is a straight up living furnace.
Simon Riley
Pulls you into his side so you can lay your head on his chest, typically sleeps laying on his back.
Absolutely melts if you press little kisses to the scars on his face, wraps his arms around you so tight that there is no escape.
Not opposed to you spooning him or just wrapping your arms around him from behind.
Kyle Garrick
Does the thing of tucking your head to his chest so you can listen to his heartbeat, will also hum a soft tune to you and murmur the sweetest things as you fall asleep.
Tuck your face into the crook of his neck and you'll hear an audible sigh of happiness, arms slipping around you to pull you impossibly close.
Kiss attack!!! Will randomly pepper kisses all over your face and anywhere else you'll let him- he just can't resist you.
Alex Keller
Absolute puppy energy as he follows you around closer than usual whenever he wants to cuddle, will eagerly pull you to him on the couch or wherever else you two sit down.
Tucks his face into the crook of your neck and purposely tickles you with his facial hair, grins like an idiot when you giggle and push at him.
Is typically the big spoon in bed because he just loves being the one with his arms around you, planting kisses to your shoulders.
Gary Sanderson
Lays on top of you to trap you with his affection, nuzzling and making little hum sounds to express how much he adores you.
Traces shapes and letters along your skin when you two are cuddling in bed, loves tugging you close to his chest and running his hands along your back.
Often pats his lap when he wants you to stop what you're doing and just come sit on him for snuggles for awhile.
Nikolai
Handsy? Handsy. Gentle touches at all times and constant hugs from behind, is so damn cozy though and knows it- pulling you into him every opportunity.
Loves having you lay on top of him like a blanket, mumbling loving words in Russian as he rubs your back.
If you're sitting beside him his arm is wrapped around you, however he much prefers you on his lap so he can hold you even closer.
Alejandro Vargas
Wants you to lay on him. Please lay on him or let him spoon you, he just has to feel you close so he can praise you softly.
Will drag you onto his lap to hold you when he feels you're working too hard, that's enough chores for right now- snuggle time.
Rubs his hands lightly up and down your sides when you two are in bed.
Rodolfo Parra
Literally the absolute sweetest- wants to sit and cuddle you while feeding each other snacks. Wants you on his lap so he can tell you about his day while sticking food in your mouth.
Loves being the little spoon or laying his head on your chest, run your fingertips along his back and he'll hum out in response.
Consistently gives you the coziest hugs and sweet forehead kisses, hands on your waist or lower back.
Kate Laswell
Intense spooning- prefers being the big spoon but will gladly be the little spoon. Loves taking care of you.
Wants you to lean your head on her shoulder when you two are sitting at home watching shows together.
Encourages you to tell her all about your day, pressing a sweet kiss to your head as you drift off in her arms.
Valeria Garza
Holds your hands when you two cuddle in bed because it's romantic, presses kisses to your knuckles as you tell her about your day.
Praises you for whatever you accomplish and also insists that you take plenty of breaks so she can hold you.
Wants to be the big spoon or tuck your head against her chest so she can mumble sweetly in your ear.
Phillip Graves
An absolute menace who unleashes tickle attacks occasionally when you two are cuddling, usually though he just mumbles sweet things against your skin.
Showers you with kisses and groans softly as he eases into bed with you and with a 'c'mere darlin'' starts spooning you- loves being big spoon.
Wants you to lay your head on his chest sometimes as well, feel his breathing and steady heart beat while he rambles about his day.
König
Lay on him please- he craves it so bad to just feel you close like that. Wants to hold you tightly to himself and ramble about how much he loves you.
A giant teddy bear- please let him lay his head on your lap. He'll fall asleep instantly.
Gentle and doting wanting to give you massages constantly- if you return a massage though you will just hear so many soft groans and praises in German.
Farah Karim
Spoon spoon spoon- will be little or big spoon she doesn't care. Just let her tell you how gorgeous/handsome and perfect you are.
Rests her hands on your waist often when you're doing things, especially loves doing it if it makes you flustered.
Lay your head in her lap and she will gladly smile and stroke your hair- you're just so cute.
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{This prompt made me so excited I just had to do everyone. LMAO}
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{@gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup @sofasoap }
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{More Content}
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yourlocallyneysimp · 1 year
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Just them laying on your thighs, lol
Characters: Scaramouche, Kazuha, Ayato, Venti, Dottore, Lyney, Xingqiu
A/N: Just posting this because my legs are skinny af and my thighs are nonextistant- I also had too much fun writing Dottore and Lyney's parts. 💀
Scaramouche:
Scaramouche thought it would be funny to embarrass you by laying on your thighs, but he ended up getting embarrassed himself.
He made sure no one was around before he approached his plan so he didn't hurt his pride, so taking his chance he layed down. He studied your facial expressions carefully thinking he had won, but instead of gettting flustered, you just looked down and smiled at him. This surprised him since he really thought you would get uncomfortable, but instead you were so casual with it as if this was a normal occurence. He immediately gets up trying to hide his red face, but it's before long that he's laying on your lap again.
Kazuha:
Kazuha usually likes to show his affection for you in private so when you two are alone he likes to hold hands, kiss, lay on your lap, etc.
Laying on your lap is usually a normal thing for him to do, especially if the weather is fairly nice that day. Sometimes he even falls asleep, and most of the time he tells you about haikus he came up with. Honestly this man love to lay on your thighs any chance he could get. That part of your body is reserved for him and him only.
Ayato:
Usually Ayato doesn't have time to show his affection towards you since he's always busy, so most of the time he leaves notes for you to find to remind you about taking care of yourself. When his energy finally fails on him, he would lay on your lap for comfort since he just needs some rest. He would also come looking for you if he's also stressed.
He would apologize after saying that he didn't mean to invade on your personal space, but you always deny all of that since you enjoy comforting him.
Venti:
Venti has no shame, he will lay on your lap anytime and anywhere. Sometimes you have to push him off because I bet 100 bucks he'll do it in front of your whole family. He wants everyone to know that you're his and his only so he finds this a reasonable way to prove it. He also just likes the feeling of your thighs since they are so squishy. You're basically his personal pillow if I'm being completely honest.
Dottore:
Dottore thinks affection is a waste of time even if he has a partner, so he won't show you much. That doesn't mean he don't love you though! He just finds it embarrassing.
When one of his experiments failed, you noticed that he seemed annoyed and very stressed since he was so confident that it was going to be a success. Seeing him pacing around the room worried you since you don't like seeing him in this state, so getting his attention you called him over to sit next to you. Annoyed, he thought you were just going to lecture him about being careful since his experiment literally exploded, but instead you just asked for him to lay down. Confused, he was just like: "Lay down where? Tf you talkin about-"
Without hesitating you gently guided his head to your lap and started petting his hair. He was tense at first, but slowly relaxed. He would lecture you about how unprofessional it was of you to be doing this to a harbinger, but you ignored it since you knew he was secretly enjoying it.
Congratulations, now he will fail experiments on purpose just so he can lay on your lap again.👍(Even though he can just ask-)
Lyney:
Lyney thinks that laying on your lap is like a reward, so whenever he achieves something or when one of his performances are a success, he'll just plop his head right on your thighs.
He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.
"Lyney, I have to g-"
"Nope"
"Bu-"
"Nuh uh"
If someone tries to drag you away while he's enjoying his prize, he would glare at then until they go away. He won't let anyone take his reward away from him.
Xingqiu:
Xingqiu always finds himself laying on your thighs when he's reading a book since he claims it makes him read better and that it's also relaxing. Knowing this is a lie, you let him do it anyway.
Whenever he lays down on your thighs in public, you could tell that his best friend, Chongyun always gets uncomfortable and fidgety, but he'll eventually get used to seeing your affection towards each other.
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astrochaosmind · 6 months
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astrology observation🐀
🦦sag 11h people can be the one who’s constantly making friends wherever they go and tend to be the “loud” one of the group
✨leo with cancer placements can be very difficult to understand or even get too know sometimes
🎀taurus placements especially 6h could be the type to only have a makeup/skincare routine and call it the day
⭐️pisces moons are the REAL empaths out of the other two water signs they constantly visions or use their imagination as if they were in someone else’s shoes
🌫️any virgo/pisces placement even asteroid or nn/sn are always people who help or want to be needed by someone or something , they will give you unwanted information and tips out of love and support
🍋leo 11h people are the definition of loyalty especially towards friends they do anything and every for/with them and will love you with ALL their heart
🌊cancer suns are really shy , quiet while cancer moons are talkative and love knowing people on a personal level
🫧virgos excessively lie idk if it’s the anxiety or they can’t handle accountability or what
🧌Capricorn 4H could mean you had to be mentally and emotionally independent or keep yourself busy, company from a very young age
☕️moon-saturn can mean having a very strained relationship with your mom or she didn’t really allow you to do anything as a child and now you are hesitant of getting out there and having fun
🦪many 9h placements are into foreign languages and traveling more than sagittarius natives
💫cancer risings with their leo 2nd house spend their money on frivolous things like clothes/makeup/art supplies and anything that they can express themselves with and cute their boredom
❄️speaking of cancer placements I think some cancer people with 3rd house cancer could love yearbooks , academic trophies or anything that reminds them of their accomplishments in school
🌹you can spot scorpio/aries placements a mile away the prominent brows , sharp features and the hard facial expressions
🪴libra 10H people attract a lot of people infatuated or insanely attracted to them finding them sexy/sex appeal??
🐚pisces + gemini in big 3 makes someone very creative and fun but also emotionally in-tune with their emotions plus extremely talkative
ANY AND I MEAN ANY LIBRA PLACEMENT IS SO FUCKING PRETTYYY🪷
🪰gemini venus can have like multiple standards/expectations for the people they wanna date
🐸aquarius suns are very adventurous and not afraid to take risks with gemini and libra think things through and can’t decide if they want to do it or not
🪩3rd house/9th house venus and moons listens too a variety of music genres they can go from hip-pop to country music
🌆Sagittarius risings or prominent jupiter influence in first house people have big cheeks ifykyk and very noticeable, contagious smiles
🎢air 3rd house people can go through or have many cars throughout their lives like they have a new car everytime you see them
🎠people with heavy mercury influence are very funny they are quick with it
🧌gemini mercury people are very good at mocking or mimicking how people sound or sing especially if has aspects or a Venusian degree (2°,14°,7°,19°)
👽Uranus 1H people can have very big/muscular calves even ankles
🧸something about aries moons and gemini suns just give off chaotic energy
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luveline · 1 month
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Maybe colt comforting reader when things for her film aren’t going right 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Colt comes to your rescue (clumsily) when you have a hard day. fem!reader, 1k words
Very minor plot spoilers for The Fall Guy (2024) if any
“I think he’s mad at you.” 
You pause where you’d been scrubbing your eyes with your hands, though you don’t look at him. Colt Seavers seems to follow you everywhere you go, and consequently plays witness to your many breakdowns. “Thanks, Colt. That’s astute.” 
“Are you mad at me? Why are you mad at me? It’s been ten seconds,” he complains. He has a unique talent for sounding flirty and needy at once. 
“No, Colt. I’m tired, it’s been a long day.” 
Colt is grinning when you meet his eyes. He has blood, fake or real undetermined, drying in the scruff of his facial hair. You gesture to yourself in a slow circle in the approximate area, to which Colt smiles again. 
“You look perfect,” he says confidently. 
“You have blood in your beard.” 
“Oh, right.” 
You sigh heavily, taking the few paces back to a stack of safety mattresses for a quick break. You’ll get up and help whoever needs helping as soon as you can feel your toes. Colt stays where he is, squinting against the sun, strands of blonde ends kissing his tan forehead. The summer shoots are good for him, he always looks so beachy. You’re exhausted all the time. 
As he notices. “Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” 
“‘Cos I was sleeping badly and then I got this new mattress that has four hybrid layers, there’s a foam layer, and then there’s titanium springs,” —he sees your distant expression and his own flickers— “anyways, you could try it if you want. Test it out with me. Or– Not with me. With me if you want. We’d have fun. But not with me if you don’t want to.” 
You’d laugh if you had the energy. “Do you wanna sit down?” you ask. 
“God, yes, please.” 
He has another talent for being insanely handsome no matter the day. You look like you’ve been badly rewarmed before serving, where he looks like he rolled out of bed with a smile. He’s smiling at you now, the foolish kind that’ll fluster you if you let him do it for too long. “Stop,” you say quietly. 
“You’re doing amazing.” 
“Thank you. You’re the only person who thinks so, unfortunately.” 
You smile at him weakly. Worried you look pathetic, you turn your face to your lap and clasp your fingers together. 
“That’s not true. Mayview is old-fashioned, that’s all, he was around when they were still killing horses on TV.” 
You grimace. “Yikes.”
“But it’s the modern era. He doesn’t get to make you feel like shit, or I’ll make him feel like shit.” He pretends to charge a sucker punch. 
You lean forward a touch, not quite hugging your knees but tempted to fold in on yourself nonetheless, the heat of the sun a memory on your neck as the evening begins and cloud cover floods in. 
The safety mattresses beneath you squeak and shush against each other. Your weight and Colt’s slides together slowly. He might be pushing himself a little with his boot, but you pretend not to notice as his hand comes to rest between your shoulders. 
“I just can’t do anything right,” you mumble. 
As soon as you’ve said it you’re hoping he can’t hear you, but he does. He might have injured pretty much anything that can be fractured, sprained, or just plain broken, but he has stellar hearing. “You do everything right. You do!” he says, quietly and passionately at once, “They don’t realise it, but you’re the glue keeping this whole thing together.” 
“What are you?” you ask, bemused.
His hand is warm on your shoulder, unafraid where he hesitates to answer, “I don’t know. The test dummy? The guy who gets set on fire a lot?” 
“How is that?” 
“Warm,” he says, beaming, his face so unexpectedly close that you can see the glucose shining in the blood on his cheek. Fake blood. “You wanna try it? I’m sure I could convince the guys.” 
“No, I’m okay.” 
His voice turns silky. “Good, I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.” 
“Let me?” 
“You could get hurt.”
You give in, melted maybe by his warm tones, or exhausted by a day of playing mom for a director who can barely tell his left from his right. Your face presses to his shoulder and your spine sags under his hand, prompting Colt to pull you flush against his side. He always waits for your signals for stuff like this, no matter how desperate he might confess to being. “Can you make them all leave me alone?” you mumble into his jacket, the fabric rough against your nose. 
“Obviously I can, but… We could run away.” 
“Where would we go?” 
“I don’t know. Somewhere sunny. You can rub sunblock on my back, I can hold the umbrella over your head while you read.” 
“They have stands for that sort of stuff. Or you can shove it in the sand, you know.”
“I wanna do something nice for you,” he interrupts, the sound of a smile in his voice as he gives you a friendly jostle. “That’s the point.” 
“You’re plenty nice, Colt.” 
And he is. He saw you were upset and he came jogging upto you valiantly, and your side-armed cuddle is really pushing the pep back into your life. You take a few deep breaths under the weight of his arm before turning to him, brave, ready to go back to work if it means he’s gonna drive you home tonight. “Thank you for caring.” You kiss his cheek, careful of the fake blood. “You’re super nice.” 
You miss the heat of him the second you stand, but there really is work to do. 
“I’m super nice?” he calls. “How nice is super? Nice enough to get another one of those, or what? Are they by the metre?” 
You bite back a smile. 
“Hello? Can you hear me?” He must catch someone’s eye. “She can’t hear me. It’s cool. We like each other.” 
Nobody saves face quite like Colt. 
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sunsetsimon · 3 months
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not smutty but, what do you think the boys love languages are?
(sorry if you already answered this)
also, love your blog and so relieved to hear that you’re okay🩷🩷
thank you so much darling <3
johnny's love language is physical touch. he feels most connected to you when he's able to cuddle, hug, and hold you. deployments become harder the longer you're together as he doesn't want to be gone as long. phone calls and letters matter to him greatly of course, but all he can think about is having you back in his arms.
some of his favorite things to do are giving you massages, showering/bathing together, cuddling, and holding hands. he's always sneaking his hand under the table to grab yours, pulling it to rest on his thigh so he can play with your fingers. lightly rubbing each knuckle, his soft touch tickles you, a silent way for him to say "i love you".
his favorite place for you to touch him is on the back of his neck.
simon's love language is quality time. all he wants to do is be around you, even if there's no talking involved. having your presence calms him and makes him feel complete. you constantly catch him staring at you, his eyes following you every time you move around the room as if he'd miss something. don't even think about being slick about something, simon will see it!
his favorite part of the day is winding down in bed with you, reading his book while you lay beside him, searching for a show to watch on the tv. if you're going out to do something, he automatically assumes that he'll be going with you. what do you mean you're going to the store without him? :( of course he still gives you your space, but if you ask him, he'll say he doesn't need any.
si is clingy in his own little ways <3
kyle's love language is words of affirmation. he loves to talk to you, sharing new thoughts and facts with each other constantly. he’s listening of course, keeping every word locked in a special corner of his mind, dedicated for you. but he can’t help but get distracted by your beauty. those lips that he loves to kiss so much, your facial expressions that he loves to read, your gestures that he loves to watch, kyle is so smitten.
“you’re so beautiful,” he says randomly, after you’ve just spent the last few minutes explaining the book you’ve been reading. it takes you aback, blinking at him until you realize what he’d said.
“thank you,” you blush, completely forgetting what you’d just been saying. his gaze suddenly feels intense, the love radiating off of his body and filling the room.
“c’mere and give me a kiss.”
john's love language is acts of service. no matter how much you beg him to relax, he feels the constant need to be doing something. and what better to stay busy with than doing everything for his partner? if he knows that it’ll take you energy to do it, he’s making sure it gets done before you can even think about it!
keeping the bills in order, cleaning, cooking dinner, grocery shopping, you name it - john’s on it. he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing mundane life things, but he feels fulfilled when he’s able to take care of you in more ways than just financially.
you have to beg him to just relax with you, to order take out and cuddle while watching random movies all night. of course he can’t resist you though, anything to make his partner happy :)
könig's love language is physical touch! he's not one for PDA, but he will rest his hand at the small of your back just to guide you and keep you close. good luck escaping him at home though, because he'll find any excuse to touch you!
back hugs, gripping your thigh, washing you in the shower, he wants it all. könig is huge, about twice the size of most humans, so he uses this to his advantage to trap you in bed with him. his body pins you to the mattress, forcing you to submit to his nonstop cuddles.
“where are you trying to go? everything you need is right here,” he says, pointing to himself as you squirm underneath him.
“the restroom isn’t! so let me go pee!”
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redwineandtarot · 11 months
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in your eyes...(what do your eyes tell?)
hi! i'm back at posting finally! today's pac was inspired by the weeknd's song "in your eyes". like the title we'll get a look at what people see when they look in your eyes. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3
🕯️my youtube subliminal channel🕯️ (new!)
Disclaimer: My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.
pick a pile
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pile 1-2-3
i do not own any of these pictures
pile 1
People see someone pure at first glance. Also they see, almost, a childish joy. You may have doll-like eyes(do not have to) or just a doll-like gaze. But behind this soft and pure look, if someone looks deeply inside your eyes they can see the warrior inside you. You may have a pure look to your eyes but you also have lots of passion and spark inside them. I don't know how to explain but this soft look of your eyes does not give the impression of you being a weak person. (I know that being soft does not equal to being weak but some people think this way unfortunately.)
Your inner light shows up in your eyes. People sense that you are quite comfortable in yourself and with your life. Your eyes may also calm people. Whatever happens, you always have this calm look. 
Also a lot of creative spark shows up here. Maybe people notice how your eyes light up when you speak about (let's say you're a musician) music. They sense your passion through your eyes.
I also feel renewed reading your pile. You probably give this feeling to people with your eyes. 
You may feel things deeply. And this shows up in your eyes. Your eyes may be very expressive. Like whatever you feel it shows up in your eyes. Even if you try to control your facial expressions. 
I don't know how this can be but people see that you're a mystic person. Like you are highly intuitive. And to people this shows up in your eyes. From your eyes you give this “I trust the universe” type of calmness. Some people also think this mindset helps you be bold and calm at the same time. They also see lots of potential in your eyes.
Your eyes also give people belle (from the beauty and the beast) vibes.
these energies/placements may be prominent in your birth chart: leo x2, taurus; 10th house, 4th house, 3rd house ; south node, mercury, north node
thank you for reading <3
pile 2
Pile 2, my dear, are you ok? How have you been? I really get a heavy energy from your cards. You may be going through a tough time right now. If you need, please contact someone for help. Spirit also says there’s no need to rush. You do not need to be at a certain point in life at a certain time.
But back to the main topic. You may be an introvert. Or maybe just for this period of time you have decided to go on a hermit mode. To be frank, people see the pain in your eyes. The people who know you from the past know that you are this king/queen that has belief in themselves. That’s why they are shocked and worried. You may be going through a tough time. I don't know how long this has been going this way, pile 2. But I just want to give you a big warm hug.
You may sacrifice yourself for others a lot. You have that self-sacrificing feel to you.
These times people may be focused on the agony in your eyes. However if I were to describe other times, I would say they see royalty in your eyes. The unshakable self-confidence. Knowing that living your best life is your birthright. 
People also see wittines in your eyes. You probably are a very smart person (This smartness can be about various things btw). But also you have this look that gives people the sense that you carry deep wisdom. And a look that makes people think you are firm in what you believe in and not afraid to express yourself.
these energies/placements may be prominent in your birth chart: libra, sagittarius, cancer; 1st house, 7th house x2 ; mercury, uranus, moon
thank you for reading <3
pile 3
You are mysterious, pile 3. When people look into your eyes they get puzzled. At the same time they dwell in. I strongly sense scorpio-pluto energy from you. Actually not just me, people can see the chaos in your eyes too. You are not afraid of transformation. And probably you go through big ones a lot in your life. You are not afraid of what other people deem as dark. And have this really intense gaze to you. You really captivate people. 
People can see the loyalty in your eyes. They think you are loyal to the ones you hold close to your heart. Ride or di3 type of thing. You have this reliable look to you. Especially for your inner circle.  However people also see that you are not afraid to leave something if it does not serve you anymore. Also that your intuition plays a big role in this. Like people think you have this knowing/intuition whether a situation/person is good for you or not.
All this while people also may think that you focus too much on material things. Some romantic partners may only see lust in your eyes. And that's why they may feel bad if they want an emotional connection. And your partners probably get addicted to your eyes. To the point where they think “I don't want to look at anyone's eyes but pile3’s”. 
Your close circle can also see the joy in your eyes when something makes your soul light up. 
You also have this wise look. You may have a lot of knowledge about dark arts or you may be on the left hand path. While most of the people cannot see this, they still sense you have some knowledge that is far(?) to them. 
You have a luxurious gaze. You ooze self confidence and self contentment. Also from your eyes people may think you can know the future somehow.
these energies/placements may be prominent in your birth chart: sagittarius, cancer, aries; 12th house, 10th house, 8th house; saturn, pluto, jupiter
thank you for reading <3
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Text
I am so so so so so TIRED to see people fatshaming two perfectly healthy girls because they have round faces. It’s disgusting.
The actresses of Mai and Azula are on point for their roles. Hell, if they were chosen there must be a reason, it’s not like there’s no Asian actresses out there they could choose from.
People can’t accept that Azula can have a characterization beyond “crazy and sadist sicko”. She’s a perfectionist. She’s an asset to her father. She’s jealous of Zuko’s birthright and of how it might take what she has away. Those are things that OG Azula too had. The only difference is that we actually see it in season one and have a background on her, rather than writing it in a rant. And what has been added only makes her a more complex character, given the change in the family dynamic as well.
And Mai? The actress is talented, she delivers a good Mai, and does justice to the character. She’s 17 and at the beginning of her career, of course it won’t be perfect. She gets to grow. Thing is, you guys won’t let her, because a square jaw scares you so flipping bad that you feel the need to shame her for it.
Everyone is a body positivity advocate until a girl with a rounder face shape is cast as a character in a live action you are NOT forced to watch? Seriously?
I’ve seen so many people on the internet calling them all sort of names, fatshaming them, insulting their work without even focusing on the acting. And I’m like, what’s to fatshame there? Let me tell you: nothing.
If I have to put it through your thick head like this, so be it. Even though I hate talking about and comparing bodies.
This below is a picture of Azula’s actress.
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She has the face card, she has the jawline, and she has a fit, enviable body. And you still have the audacity to “fat-shame” her?
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These two pictures are in costume. Again, face card and an enviable body. She even has the expression for Azula. You see a girl with a rounder shape of face and will automatically go “no she’s too cute to be Azula!!” Dude. No. When she will actually deliver as the crazy girl we know, she will devour. She will, and you all will switch back because that’s what you are, slimy switchers.
And now, onto Mai’s actress, a very beautiful girl with talent and looks. She is literally so pretty, and you dare hate on her? You dare shame her for how she looks? From what I’ve heard she’s a minor, too, so this makes you 100000% more slimy and undeserving of any sympathy in my book.
This is her, this is the girl.
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She’s literally so pretty. Maybe she hasn’t got the same facial structure of Mai, but she delivered all her lines she had in the little screen time and with the discutibile scenes she was given. She was good. But you see a square jaw, a rounder shape of face, and are immediately triggered.
And you can’t even use the stupid argument of “she’s fat”, because this is literally her.
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A very normal, very healthy young woman. Not as skinny as OG Mai? So what? She’s still a fricking thin girl. Nowhere as “fat” as you haters make her to be.
I shouldn’t have to explain common sense and basic decency to grown adults, and yet here we are.
This is honestly so frustrating. In the year of 2024 you can’t possibly justify insulting girls like this, with no shame. It’s absolutely idiotic and shows very a big lack of brain cells. I see you, haters, behind your device, with your insecurities and shame for yourself, laughing at two girls who made it farther than you ever will. You can critique the acting once you’ve seen it in full potential. Until then, shut your tramp up. This is very small dick energy of you.
I don’t see why I should treat you with kindness when you are so eager to make this kind of jokes about pretty and in shape girls you are very obviously jealous of. Go touch some grass, incels.
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dilfluvrr10 · 13 days
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Joost x music journalist!reader where joost invites them for a show and they thinks its for work but actually he did it bc he likes them 🤭
Guysss I just wrote thisss. This is my first fanfiction I've ever written, pls pls pls feel free to send through any feedback good and bad. I really hope I managed to satisfy your request. Thank you <3
Lmk if you're interested in a Part 2
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╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮ The Interview ╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
I looked through my closet unsure of what to wear, do I go concert or casual tonight? This was going to be huge for my career, interviewing THE Joost Klein, so of course I was stressing over every detail. I settled on a classic little black dress, nothing too much, enough to make a good first impression. I glanced at the time repeatedly while doing my makeup, the closer it crept to 7:00pm, the more anxiety started eating at me. I packed my bag and drove to the venue, practicing each and every question, my facial expressions, my laugh, my smile, every detail. I admit, Joost was an attractive man, a confident man, and a great musician, maybe that’s why I was so worked up. That’s definitely why I was so worked up. I’d been following Joost’s career before his stardom reached an all time high after Eurovision, I had to remind myself to keep my composure and leave any fangirling behind.
When I received the invitation I was absolutely thrilled, jumping up and down like I was a teenage girl again. However, it was different from the usual press releases I’ve received, addressed to me specifically instead of my publication. Despite my usual professional demeanour, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. When I finally arrived at the venue my anticipation only intensified. I glanced in the rear view mirror one last time, ensuring every hair was in place, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. I had been instructed to enter through the same way production entered and meet Joost in the green room before he was expected on stage. Backstage was buzzing, ensuring everything for tonight’s performance was perfect. I navigated through the organized chaos, my heart pounding with each step closer to the green room.
There he was sitting around a table laughing and joking with his friends in Dutch. “Heyyy you’re here! I’m so happy you came”, his signature smile plastered on his face causing one of my own in response. He told his friends we were doing an interview and to so kindly leave, each one greeting me with that European charm before exiting the room. He gestured for me to sit down where comfortable. He sat loosely on the couch, adorned in black jeans, a white button up paired with a black tie and his signature thick rimmed glasses and gloves to tie it all together. God black was his colour. His cuffs rolled up, revealing a scatter of tattoos on his forearms and biceps. I sat on the chair closest to him but not on the couch next to him, trying to keep it as professional as possible. I really wanted to squeal, ask him for a photo and tell him all about how much his music resonated with me.
“Thank you so much for the invitation, I really appreciate this Joost”, my nerves slipped away as we began talking, his energy warm and inviting. “No, no, I’ve wanted to meet you for a while now actually…” his words hung in the air, his eyes darted around my face as if he was unsure how I would react. “Really, you know me?” I was stunned by the idea of Joost being aware of my work. A soft smile played at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “You’re works amazing, you have this way of talking to people that just…opens them up, you know?”, the sincerity of his words hit me hard. My heart fluttered and I felt my professionalism slowly decay. He shifted in his seat adjusting his pants and clearing his throat. He was feeling the change of mood too. As I thought of something to say to change the subject I noticed his gaze kept falling to my lap. My dress had lifted a bit, my thighs exposed a little. I began to feel hot and bothered, my cheeks burning red, his subtle smirk didn’t escape my notice, only adding to my discomfort. He clocked on to my embarrassment, shamefully, it fed him with confidence. “I used to watch your videos on YouTube, when you were working independently. Seeing you now here in front of me…you’ve really, grown up” he cooed with a meaning I couldn’t quite grasp. I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the rush of heat that grew in my body. “Thank you Joost, that means a lot coming from you,” I replied, hoping to steer the conversation back to professional grounds. “So, how are you feeling about tonight’s concert? Any pre-show rituals?”
He chuckled, the sound sultry and pleasant. “Just hanging out with my friends, like you saw. We try to keep it light and fun. Music is about connecting with people, so I try to keep that spirit alive before I go on stage.” I nodded, jotting down notes even though I recorded interviews on my phone. It was more to keep my hands busy and give me something to focus on other than his heavy gaze. Our conversation flowed easily after that, and the interview wrapped up nicely. He stood up, offering his hand to help me up from the chair. His touch was warm, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m glad we finally got to meet,” his eyes held mine for a heartbeat longer before he glanced away, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanour.
Just then, one of his crew members popped their head into the room, announcing that it was time for Joost to get ready. He turned to me, his smile back in full force. “Enjoy the show. I’ll make sure you have a great view.”
I smiled back, my heart fluttering again. “I’m sure I will.”
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astro-royale · 5 months
Text
AstrologyObs: Appearance
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Disclaimer:my opinion
Cancers are the cutie of the zodiac!! Round facial features. Cozy, comfy, warm and inviting. They may look great in Asian make up styles or old classic make up styles. Bohemian. 70s look or even 50s.
Gemini have a cheekiness to them that’s apparent in their features. They look like troublemakers in a wholesome way. They usually have quite sharp smiles. They have a very on the go energy , and I think they can get away with being sporty or even messy. But they also look so good with a basic 90s style which reflects their logical mind.they may also have a “rebel” “punk” or even Avril Lavigne vibe.
Pisces just feel like a wave of tranquility and I just want to chill with them. They have such dreamy eyes that make you want to get lost in them. They look so good with shimmers, in make up and clothes. Also metallic colours. Glowy make up. MERMAID. They suit modern style of clothing a lot.
Sagittarius, the free spirits, can actually look great with more revealing looks. They can get away with over the top things, and they will make it look cool, like their way of dressing is part of their philosophy. I feel like Sagittarius also has a lowkey sense of humour to their style, “ I did it for the fun of it, why not” also look so good in red:::
Scorpio.. you guys just remind me of Johnny Depp in pirates of the Caribbean, looks wise that is. Very alluring, darkness around the eyes. You change and transform people so no one will ever experience another you again. Your dress sense may have elements of danger. Leather jackets. A sense of shock, uniqueness . Darkness. Alternative or femme fatale.
Aries yall look good in office things, or just sophisticated and sharp styles tbh. There’s an angularity to you but it looks very cool and dramatic, it makes you interesting and cool. Lush, and sharp.it gives lip gloss and matte outfit vibes.
Capricorn, your organisation influences your dress sense so much and i actually think that Capricorn represents a mainstream dress sense or something conventional and basic you see everyday. So you look good in that. Simple. Classy. Timeless. Capricorns with Aquarius placements may disagree
Taurus, yall look really good with heavy makeup up looks, or full face glam. you guys look good with mullets. And electric colours. Graphic liners. Cool eyeshadow looks. IG baddie make up looks. May also suit dip dye hair styles or highlights.
Virgo, I feel like many of you may have had a hipster phase, plaid shirt and boots situation. Or some kind of lowkey emo phase . Even a tomboy phase. But anyways, you look great with slicked back hairstyles, neat loose natural hair. You Look Royal, in a laid back way. No matter your aesthetic. Virgo, you look best when you take care of yourself, when you look very clean, and tidy. Clean girl aesthetic
Leo, Animal prints look so great. You’re royal in a flashy way. You may feel like you look great in designer clothing or higher end brands. The quality and brand may be of importance to you and you won’t just buy things from anywhere. You’re going to attract looks, because the planets revolve around the sun. You look good being flashy and fully expressing your authentic self and uniqueness, don’t hold back your greatness.
Libra, yall could wear a potato sack and still look great asf. Your facial features are usually very proportionate and balanced. I think your natural glow is what suits you best, and an elegant outfit. You look great showing everyone the embodiment of Venus on Earth, and I think you have “aesthetic” in your genes.
Aquarius, you look good in unisex or androgynous, long or short hair, any colour, you will make it work. Doesn’t matter if things clash, you can make it work. The innovated. Unique style. Dreamy aura, they have an intelligent vibe. You’re giving the audience a taste of the stars. Of intelligence beyond this earth. Cyber /rave styles can look great on them too. Or very artsy looks. Many of them also get into cosplay. They look ethereal so they can embody what isn’t real (anime, cartoons, movie characters etc) People may even say they look like an anime character.
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fineprintedsunsets · 5 months
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Кролик; Bunny
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ೃ⁀➷ It's the dreaded time of month and all you want to do is curl up in bed. Your soldat has other plans. ೃ⁀➷ p in v sex. dirty talk. soldat!bucky. mentions of blood. period sex. (soldat not giving a fuck). breeding kink. mentions of pads/pain. fingering. possible typos. ೃ⁀➷ 1.2k
i hate my period so much, writing about this brute helps me cope🧸
seb masterlist
Oh no. No. No. Not today. Not now.
Fuck, You hate mother nature.
The sheets of your bed are stained a red hue. Little spots and specks paint the white fabric and your thighs are sticky with blood.
Your fucking period. If you had enough energy you could just slam a fist into the wall, broken bones be damned.
You whimpered and whined all the way to the shower, stomach aching, legs weak. You made sure to tear off the sheets and add them to the heaping pile of laundry in your room.
As soon as you stripped yourself of your clothes and felt the steaming water hit your skin, all was forgiven. The sound of water hitting the cheap chipped tile was so relaxing you would give everything you had to be in this state forever.
Unfortunately, a girl has a water bill.
You changed your clothes, put on low-cut shorts, and bought a shit ton of pads. It was only the first day and your flow was already heavy.
The cramps were bearable, but you could tell they were going to get a whole lot worse. Which led to your current state, in bed, lights turned off, head against a cold pillow, and blinds drawn.
An unbreakable fortress of cold pillows and snakes you managed to hoard in anticipation for this day's arrival.
You couldn’t turn on the tv, the light was harsh and irritating. So you just sat in darkness, eating Resses and groaning in pain.
Your only thought was “when would he arrive"?
“Кролик” (Bunny) a heavy voice woke you from your sleep. A familiar musk of gunpowder and him filled your head.
“You're bleeding.” He says from the shadows. You find your fingers gripping your blankets in both anticipation and fear. Your breath hitches.
He smells it, smells you.
“You need to be bred.”
Fuck.
The Winter Soldier, soldat, in his six-foot-tall frame, rounds the side of your bed. The harsh fabric of his suit, made to withstand all kinds of obstacles was now in front of your vision.
The soldat didn’t bother to take his combat boots off before sliding into bed with you. He kneeled on the mattress, denting it.
You waited in anticipation, legs slightly parted, breath coming in slow gasps as heat filled your entire body.
“Remove your shorts. Or is it too painful?” In a way, he’s mocking you, a way of saying you will always need his help. If you weren’t drunk off him right now, you’d recoil. Sober you would not have heat pooling in her core right now.
“Hurts- Soldat. Please take them off.” You wiggled your hips to emphasize. The soldats mask covers his face, muffling the groan he made when sliding the fabric off your legs.
Your body jolted when cold metal fingers met your clothed core. You tried your best to hold in the moan you held in your throat.
“Shh…quiet, кролик” You know there’s blood on your panties, you know the soldat does too.
Except, he doesn't seem to give a shit. His fingers prod at your entrance before removing your panties entirely, along with the pad stuck to them.
The soldat looks at your cunt, the mask hiding any real facial expression. You shiver from the cold air hitting your exposed folds.
He takes two metal fingers and slides them through your folds, gathering both blood and slick. The soldat purrs as you whine. “Relax -Going to hurt, stay still.”
You do as you are told, unable to stop the soldat as he places a flesh hand against your stomach, while two metal digits slide into your cunt.
"Beautiful, sweetheart.” The Soldat hums, pushing down just a little on your tummy as the digits slowly slide in and out of you. The pain eases at whatever he’s doing to you, and pleasure becomes more prominent.
You can hear the sound of your slick as he fingers you, your back arching off the bed as he picks up the pace, adding more pressure to your stomach. “Good, кролик. Right there.”
“Doing so well for your soldat. -think you can cum for him? Hmm?”
Fuck. The edge is so fucking close and your itching to barrel over it. The soldier can feel your cunt squeezing his fingers and can see the look in your eyes as you're about to come.
His metal digits speed up, going at a pace that is sure to push you over the edge. He releases his flesh hand from your stomach to pinch your aching clit.
It’s over from there. “Soldat! Soldat- fuck ” you cry out, heart pumping and legs shaking as he works you through it, pumping his fingers in and out of you.
“So good for your soldat. Look so pretty when you come for him, so beautiful.” The soldat slides his fingers out of you, wiping your juices on his pant leg.
The soldier undoes his belt buckle, sliding off the weapon-studded pants and throwing them into the darkness of the bedroom. His cock is throbbing, angry, and red.
“Ready to be bred, Кролик? Take all you're given?” His boxers are next, his metal hand wraps around the waistband. The fabric is torn from his body in one snap.
Your legs shake and your hips squirm as he lines his cock up with your entrance, his body crowding over you, balancing himself with a hand on the headboard. “You're so wet. I bet I’d just…”
His cock nudges your fold, “-Slide right in.” The pain hits you immediately as the soldat bottoms out. You can hear him curse in Russian under the mask, as he rests his head on your shoulder.
Skin meets skin as he gives time for you to adjust to his size. You’ve taken him many times before, but it’s different on your cycle.
It’s like your womb opens up a little more for him.
“So good, sweetheart.” He moans, sliding out to just half of his length before snapping his hips to you. You can feel everything. Every throbbing vein on his cock, every breath he groans through his mask.
The Soldat always has a primal urge when you're bleeding, he needs to come inside you, needs to breed your cunt.
He wants to mark you as his.
“Soldat-" you moan, feeling his cock slide out another couple of inches, until he’s balls deep again, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock.
The entire bed shakes with the force of the soldat fucking you, and he fucks you hard. He’s so needy, desperate to fill you up with his seed. His moans and groans do not go unheard as his flesh hand presses on your stomach.
“Watch me fuck you, Кролик. See me sliding in and out?” All you can do is nod your head, words do not come easily.
Winter Soldier presses that hand on your tummy, pushing down as he stills, balls pressed to your skin as his cock twitches inside of you. “Feel me in your guts."
A few more thrusts has you clamping down on his cock, and when the soldier feels it, he goes fucking feral.
“Milk your Soldat's cock while he fills up your pretty pussy.” The soldier does exactly as he promises, shooting rope after rope of cum inside you.
Later, he flips you on your back so your pressed to his muscled chest, cock stuffing you full, keeping his load inside you. The Soldat mutters something like, “helps with the pain.”
And damn him, he’s right.
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faetreides · 3 months
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i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him
CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.
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So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.
So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.
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He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.
The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.
You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.
A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.
"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"
"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.
Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.
It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.
C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)
"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.
The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.
Welcome Home.
The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.
"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."
His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.
Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.
"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.
You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.
You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.
You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.
Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.
"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."
Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.
You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.
Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.
You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).
His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.
He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.
"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.
It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.
But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.
"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"
His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.
You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.
"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."
You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.
He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.
"Smile, petal."
The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)
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girlwithhat · 1 month
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In my mind, David Burke Watson is Boyfriend!Watson while Edward Hardwicke is Husband!Watson. I (and Holmes) love him very much.
David Burke, to me, matched the energy and theatricality of Jeremy Brett in those early episodes with his equally soothing voice and facial expressions. His Watson feels like a great friend and companion to have on adventures.
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Their easy banter, collaborative deductions (that feel like a fun game between them), and Watson's awe of Holmes' abilities work well for establishing the type of partnership and relationship they have at the start of the show. It's a very fun dynamic that caught my attention years ago and brought me back recently during a bout of nostalgia and need for a good mood booster. I admit I watch clips and compilations of these two a lot for this reason.
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And then Edward Hardwicke really impressed me throughout his run because he seems like a natural progression of Watson post-hiatus: more seasoned, subdued, and calm but also aware of being perpetually put upon by Holmes' habits. He's overjoyed the man is back so he can resume his place by his side but he also has his practice and routines that his friend disrupts at any given moment.
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Hardwicke seems like a more natural actor, he just so believably embodies Watson as the loyal chronicler, dependable companion, and caring doctor he is, especially in his chemistry with Brett.
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They feel so comfortable and settled down with each other, and as domestic as can be for two Victorian men who solve mysteries. This time around in my rewatch, I'm finding his portayal a source of comfort.
I'm just so in my feelings when it comes to Holmes and Watson lately. *dreamily sighs*
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galene-gothic · 8 months
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𝖶𝗁𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌?
୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱
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˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES
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⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱
So, they'll be a workaholic. As independent as they'll be, they'll also be alone and kind of isolated. They'll be really guarded to date romantically which will naturally lead to them being commitment phobic. They won't be the most spiritual person, they'll be someone who'll be more grounded in reality at that time (not really to be honest, they'll be ungrounded and disconnected but will be trying to be realistic and logical). They'll be burying away their feelings and past traumas but after meeting you, they'll start gaining clarity on their fears. You'll cause them to be really confused because of their feelings for you. They won't express any of this to you at that time but they'll rationalise everything internally and feel a sense of gratitude is what I'm getting. You'll make them feel consumed, it's like when the both of you will be together, they'll feel a high but there's still some anxiety there. I feel like there'll be a lot of things left unsaid, some missed communication between the both of you and you might go through a temporary separation. About why they'll fall in love with you, there are many reasons but the main one is just how they'll feel towards you.
They'll feel like they were really mean to you and the way they'll feel towards you will just be out of control. They'll feel like even the way they acted towards you was not very controlled. This is funny, they'll fall in love with you but will be mean to you before the seperation occurs, however, you're not going to be innocent either. Your intentions seem to be innocent but because of how they'll make you feel and because of how they seem commitment phobic (they might make it clear to you that they do not have space for you in their life to be honest 😭). You'll also be cold towards them, at some point, you'll tell them something like you don't really care about what's going on in their life or something (it won't sound as mean but it'll definitely be saddening). You'll be in a very unstable place before the seperation occurs but you'll still have high expectations and standards (probably because lowering your standards earlier got you nowhere). The both of you seem to be really different from each other, maybe even opposites but there'll be something that just attracts you to each other, you'll be equally as repulsed by each other though. There's something about feelings growing very fast here, the connection has such a slow yet fast energy.
When you'll first meet them, you'll seem hyperactive in certain ways but will still have a body language and facial expressions that hint lack of energy. You might meet in an environment where you'll have to take up certain responsibilities but you'll seem too naive and playful to get things done 💀. There'll be times when you'll have small temper tantrums. There'll be some petty arguments, playful banters and drama (to be honest, it seems to be a major theme in your dynamic). There's something about you being really emotional and kind of lacking maturity. You'll teach them a lot of life lessons. After your separation ends, you'll show up as someone with a lot of integrity. I just heard "there's something called 'cause and effect'". You're going to show up as someone pretty honest too, especially with what you want in life and think that you deserve. You'll be on the right path when you'll meet them after the separation. There'll be something about you though, before your seperation they might have thought that you'd probably wait for them because they seem to have come across as a respectful person but that image will just shatter after they meet you again.
I wouldn't be surprised if you're mean to them though. You'll very much be in a 'should I stay or should I go?' energy before or after you'll meet again. You're going to be more focused on the long term so you might choose to let go of them. They'll kind of realise their feelings before your seperation occurs and after the realisation , they'll actually be in a deep reflection period. They'll come off as someone very mysterious and secretive to you. I feel like they'll just hold it close to their chest and might choose working on other things instead. They will give in to their pride and withdraw. They'll just give up, this makes me so emotional to be honest. It'll be difficult for them to control themself because their emotions will feel so raw so they'll feel like they need to get their control back by giving up instead. After you meet again after the seperation, they'll choose to be decisive. I feel like the both of you will look to the past and think about how far you've come. There'll be a sense of nostalgia that'll hit them as soon as they'll see you. I'm also getting that you'll have changed a lot, your core aspects will still be the same though. They'll choose to free themself and trust how things turn out. 'We don't talk anymore' by Selena Gomez and Charlie Puth is coming through here.
⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱
They'll fall in love with you because they'll learn something new through and from you. If they're an introverted person (like low-key anti-social), they could still enjoy being outdoors or around people if it's with you. People don't choose to be loyal, they either feel it or they don't and they will feel loyalty towards you. There's something about them seeing your potential and also helping them see their own potential. You'll make them feel really happy. There's something about wisdom coming through. This seems to be the classic case of 'real recognises real'. You'll feel safe around each other. 4th house and 5th house synastry seems to be significant here (could be composite too though). You will probably be mirroring each other a lot. You'll both meet each other after a very painful ending will have occurred in your lives. There's something about things just slipping through the fingers. A lot of things left unsaid, fear coming in, pushing each other away, etc. They'll fall in love with you because they'll see you as someone who's diligent and determined. They'll fall in love with you because you'll be self sufficient and independent, you'll also help them become the same way.
You'll feel like the calm after the storm to them, however, due to them not being used to the calmness, they will restrict their true feelings and character to a certain extent. They'll end up acting out of character and will be angry at you 💀. Their energy will be scattered and they'll act sort of arrogant. They'll show you unlimited potential though :(. You'll help them feel really confident so they'll naturally act confident too. There'll be times when they'll act really carefree and fun. The love between the both of you holds a certain innocence to it. They will be commitment phobic and end up expressing it in one way or another though. They'll make you feel special and you'll have a lot of fun together but they will give themself away by saying somethings that will make you feel like they aren't serious about you or you don't mean as much to them. Much like the first pile, there seems to be a separation here too. They'll be so different from most people that you'll have met but they'll not seem to be in the energy for anything serious with you which will definitely be hurtful. When they'll realise that what they feel towards you is actually love, they'll jump in and out.
The romance between the both of you (the first time) will be ungrounded and fast paced but also short lived. Even though the relationship doesn't seem to progress, spiritually the both of you will get so intimate because you'll affect each other really deeply. They will use their energy in wrong ways and will be restricting everything. They'll act really hasty, supposing they are ignoring you, it'll be in a haste. They'll end up acting like a heartbreaker and will leave you confused. They'll act really moody so you won't know how to act with them or where you stand with them. At the end, you'll feel like maybe you didn't mean as much to them as you thought you did. This is so sad, oh my god. You'll feel like they didn't care enough about you. They'll just act very selfish, I won't lie. They'll be non-committal and things will be messed up between the both of you. I don't know what will happen but the both of you will meet again, maybe they'll reach out to you. I'm certainly getting some sort of communication here. You'll both be grateful to each other and you in particular will have developed down to earth character. When they'll reach out, you'll not be the most receptive.
You'll probably have an argument or a discussion that's leaning towards you not being open to their offer. You'll tell them something like "things have ended already" or "it's better if we end things here". You'll even say something like "we're incompatible, it's not going to work". You'll have developed a strong identity by that point and will choose to come forward with self integrity. You'll be really forward with them and will try to talk to them in a mature manner. They will choose to come in slower, the energy that I'm getting is that they'll be feeling quite scattered too because you'll make it pretty clear that you don't want anything to do with them. They'll choose to give you time while still having times when they just feel torn and cold. They'll really want control over the situation again. They'll start expressing love to you through their actions rather than their words and will suggest that even if you're not lovers, you should remain as friends. They'll be generous and genuine. They'll just have good intentions for the both of you. They'll express gratitude to you very often. Due to the gratitude, it might be a bit difficult for them to let you go? Eventually, you'll give in and choose to trust them.
⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱
I love this because the last two piles felt draining 😭. They'll be in a calm and emotionally healthy energy when you'll meet them. They'll be caring and tolerant at that time. They'll be emotionally mature and let's just say that they'll be a good person. They'll be considerate of others but still difficult to sway morally. They'll be rising above their problems and will have learned a lot from their past. They'll be positive as they'll know that they've gotten over the worst already. They'll either have developed or will be developing good communication skills. They'll be in a place where they'll want to be honest and communicative. They'll have gained a lot of clarity on a lot of different things and will be having realisations that will be leading to breakthroughs. They'll be pretty mentally stable and will be resilient, even if their life isn't going particularly good, it'll not be going extremely bad especially because of their mindset. They'll be feeling like they can battle anything that life throws at them, they'll be feeling proud of themself too. They'll have a vision for themself and their future. Their imagination will be running wild but in the best way possible. They'll fall in love with you because of how much potential the you seem to have. They'll see your potential and I feel like you'll have a lot of unused potential?
You'll somehow still be very confident though and will be self focused. You seem like the type to be like "wow, I'm so pretty, I must've saved a country in my past life to be born with a face like this" while looking at the mirror, eyes full of admiration for your own beauty. You'll have arguments but somehow it'll lead to revelations and you'll balance each other out despite how different or incompatible you are. You'll let them take the dominant role and they'll feel like they can assert themself with you. You'll hype them up and make them feel like you're proud of them. You'll make them feel like you see them for who they are and see their integrity? They'll feel like they're in the spotlight for you and you see them. They'll feel possessive over you and will want to have you. They'll feel such a tenderness towards you, they'll feel like they just want to keep you in their life. They'll feel protective of you and just adore you so much. You'll also help them feel more confident, they'll not be able to get enough of you, they'll just want more. After realising their feelings, they'll choose to trust you. They'll be more alert, pay attention to you and interact more with you. They'll listen to the things that you say and remember them so that they can make you feel special and touched. This is wholesome. They'll try to be more seen by you, they'll want you to take them seriously.
They'll try to talk to you about things and teach you a lot. They'll also try to get relationship advice from those they really trust. They'll try to create a valuable connection with you. You'll prove to be really helpful to them, you'll help them focus more on their work, they'll just feel really motivated to do better because of you. Even if it's just slow and small improvements, they'll implement those in their own life and also in the relationship between the both of you. Just being around you is going to feel so healing to them. They'll start being even more kind to themself and understand their past mistakes. They'll forgive and accept themself and the way things turned out to be. They'll actually choose to come forth to you with a strategy that is actually logical. They'll still be hopeful though. You'll either ignore the signs that they throw in here and there or you'll just be oblivious to them. Even you'll be working on some stuff within yourself so well you'll be critical of yourself and just everything. You might have been kinda guarded to them because of your own issues but you'll finally choose to be open to communicating with them. At first you'll withdraw from them to sort out your feelings but will make a firm decision after that. You'll let go of your fears to be with them because you'll love them. After you choose them, you'll also find new purposes in life. This is truly beautiful. The direction will be chosen and set for the both of you. I'm happy for you, take care.
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