#Design week 2017

[designmiss]

Design Nomade: il protagonista del fuorisalone di BASE a Milano https://www.design-miss.com/design-nomade-protagonista-fuorisalone-base-milano/ Come sta cambiando il #design degli oggetti degli #interni ? Il design nomade diventa il #protagonista nell’era della #tecnologiamobile e del #neonomadismo.

[blaithnne]

I’m not even a little bit late to @tealottie’s ducktales fashion week so don’t you DARE check the dates I’m watching you. Just hush up and take your Beakleys.

[nuvemzinhacorderosa]

#NakedDuckWeek

I didn't forget this year!

This is my oc Violet Duck. She is Daisy's cousin and is a model.

[gyroinabirdcage]

geaks week day 3: sickness/injury

@geaksweek2024 with a twist this time: human designs instead of the normal bird ones cause i felt the vibes today

plus a little bonus

[birbgalaxy]

18 - another day, another sad oc

[replicastarglobe]

I forgot to do repostober day 3 and it's day 4 in my timezone so woe,

[vexwerewolf]

Should I read homestuck

tl;dr: no

actual answer: yes, but with some extremely important caveats.

Firstly, because Adobe shitcanned Flash, you can now no longer experience Homestuck in the form it was intended upon release... unless you download the Unofficial Homestuck Collection. This act of unbelievable, nay, saintly generosity by Homestuck's most dedicated fans allows you to experience Homestuck as it was intended - as close as is humanly possible.

"As close as is humanly possible" is the key phrase here. One indelible part of the original Homestuck experience was UPDATE! Homestuck would sometimes go weeks or even months (and later, years) between updates. I wasn't on Tumblr back in the day, but at the peak of Homestuck, even if you knew nothing else about it, you'd know when an update dropped because Tumblr's net traffic would increase something like three to fourfold. People would go apeshit bananas about whatever new revelations the Huss would drop on us.

You also need to realise that Homestuck is a product of its time and while its takes on sexuality and gender identity was pretty progressive (for its time), Huss did use the r-slur a bunch.

While we're on the subject of the author, Andrew Hussie (of whom my current understanding is that they have not changed name but go by they/them nowadays) is, in the most diplomatic possible terms, a very unique person. They are, at times, a visionary storyteller with genuinely fascinating ideas. At other times, they come off as kinda spiteful towards their readers.

Without meaning to dip into spoilers, some story beats seem (in my opinion) almost intentionally calculated to upset, irritate or mock certain fans. It never rises to the sheer vicious contempt that Steven Moffat had towards Sherlock's fanbase, but it does leave a bad taste in my mouth whenever I go back.

Additionally, and this is where a sort of birds-eye-view spoiler is unavoidable, the story suffers from the Game of Thrones pitfall of repeatedly increasing its own complexity by adding new plot threads without resolving existing ones, eventually leading to fatigue on the part of both the reader and the author. The arcs of a lot of characters just straight up get abandoned, while a couple of characters take an unnecessarily large amount of screen time.

There's one character in particular that the author openly states within the narrative (the author exists within the world of the story. It's... a whole thing) that they favour, and whose behaviour the story is warped to accommodate. You'll know exactly who I'm talking about almost the moment they show up.

Another reason I say that it's not really possible to read Homestuck as it was originally intended is because a lot of the shit that happens in it fits into the zeitgeist of the internet at the time any individual update was written. There's a whole section in the late middle third that is inextricably and very specifically tied to how it was like to use Tumblr in 2012.

Additionally, a lot of things have soured with time. There was the whole Hiveswap debacle (it was first announced in 2012. We got the first act in 2017. We got the second act in 2020. We do not even know if the third act will ever come out.). There were the legal threats. There were the Epilogues and Homestuck 2, which were... how do I put this? Not universally liked. There's been nearly a decade of discourse since Homestuck ended, and a lot of things haven't grown better with age.

All of that being said.

You should read it.

I cannot express to you just how big an impact Homestuck has had on internet culture. Even people who claim to hate Homestuck unconsciously use slang that it invented. Its unique ideas on storytelling, character design and narrative chronology have, in both subtle and unsubtle ways, changed the way millennials and Gen Z tell stories.

A lot of people were inspired to tell stories because of Homestuck - one example I always give to Lancer players is that Kill Six Billion Demons started as a comic on the MSPA forums (before it was homestuck.com, it was MS Paint Adventures), so Homestuck is in an indirect but demonstrable way responsible for the existence of Lancer. The sunglasses that Gideon Nav from the Locked Tomb wears have been explicitly stated by Tamsyn Muir to be Dave Strider's. Toby Fox made music for Homestuck, and worked on large parts of Undertale while living in Andrew Hussie's basement.

We also know someone in the Bluey creative team is a Homestuck, because...

There are subtle but direct references in Bojack Horseman, Hazbin Hotel, Steven Universe, Adventure Time - and those are just the ones that it's easy to prove! In a more general sense, I think there's a lot of cartoon series, movies, games, etc. that would either be very different or wouldn't exist if Homestuck hadn't happened.

It's certainly influenced my work.

I think, being very cautious to manage your expectations, that you should read Homestuck. At the very least, a lot of things people say on Tumblr will start to make, if not sense, a different kind of nonsense.

[nn-ee-zz]

I don’t really have a lot to ask I just want to say I love your art style! It kind of reminds me of like Eldritch Horror meets Celestial Divinity type of thing so with that said I was wondering on how you came to this type of art style you do and how long did it take you to experiment until you found the style that you wanted? Sorry if that sounds kinda confusing 😅 thanks for taking the time to read this and have a good rest of your day!

Thank you! I did not found my artstyle, my artstyle found me. Here is a timeline of my digital art/illustration journey

2014 - The beginning

I finally took my tablet and bit the bullet that was digital art. I remember specifically forcing myself to draw (because it was not fun) because I wanted to learn digital art no matter what it took.

2016 - Experimental

Boldness seems to have dominated this phase, not because of the themes but because I rendered without any under sketch (example above of how the first draft looked like vs the end)

2017 - The breakthrough

It was only from here that digital art began feeling RIGHT. The most important things I've learned were how to render texture variation (especially softer things like hair and fur) and how to color a drawing from greyscale. I was slowly settling onto my desired artstyle

2019 - Happy accident

We were tasked to design characters based on chess pieces during college. 1 week deadline. With the mindset that no one will see my designs except my teacher and I, I did things boldly and rendered them (trad ink plus digital shading) to emphasize shape and design, rather than texture variation.

I began mixing traditional lineart with digital rendering.

2020 - Fallen from heaven

My friend and I decided to attempt to design angels based on widely popular tumblr emoji mashups. It was the first time I colored one of my character design drawings, using similar methods to the ones I've learned in 2017.

2017 - 2024

I cannot name nor describe my artstyle nowadays. I haven't seen many people with something similar either. I use what I've learned in all my phases; the spontaneous boldness of 2016, the texture variation of 2017, the sharp shapes and design mindset of 2019, the mix of traditional and digital from 2020. It all melted together and keeps evolving.

The way I approached art changed too. I was so worried about making things beautiful and technically outstanding when today I only worry about making things interesting and readable.

[no-144444]

A Christmas Prince (2017)- c.leclerc

₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: When a young aspiring journalist is sent abroad to cover a a coronation, she hears rumours about the 'Prince of F1' and goes undercover to investigate them.

pairing: prince! charles leclerc x fem! reader

9.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You jumped up from your desk as soon as you saw him, and trailed him through the office. “Excuse me, sorry- Ron?!” 

He turned to you. “Not now.”

“This will just take a second, I just have some questions about your article? The fashion week piece that I’m editing?”

He groaned, clearly uninterested in giving you the time of day. “Go for it.”

Nevertheless, you continued on. How could someone who makes so many noticeable mistakes have a higher job than you? How could someone so self-centred and rude be in that position of power? “The main problem is that Max wanted 300 words, and you’ve written 600, and also the models and designers you quoted weren’t even at the event so…”

“Y/n,” he sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t have time for you right now, just go off and fix it? Yeah?” he smiled, that punchable, asshole smile, and walked off. You rolled your eyes. 

Working as a journalist bitch was not your plan when you moved to New York, but alas, your rent does not magically pay itself. Categorically, you enjoyed your job. Decent pay, good co-workers (minus asshole Ron), and it was pretty cool to be in one of the high-rise offices of New York, especially around Christmas. But… the whole getting to write articles part wasn’t something you got to do. You were an editor now, not a journalist. It was… slightly infuriating to know that someone less qualified got paid more money to write shit that you always ended up rewriting for him, but as we mentioned before, bills don’t pay themselves. 

“Let me guess, you’re going to completely rewrite the article and save his ass?” Damon, your best friend, asked. 

You faked a smile. “It’s almost like that’s my job!”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell him to shove it,” he scoffed. “Any of us could write that better- with our eyes closed!”

You groaned as you sat down.

“How the fuck are you ever going to be taken seriously as a real journalist if you are such a good editor?” he added. “He’ll never promote you if you’re always going to stay as his bitch.”

The ding of your laptop ended the conversation 

Max wants you in her office- NOW! 

“Oh fuck,” you said under your breath. 

“What?” Damon asked, looking over your shoulder. “Oh… good luck.”

You walked into her glass office, praying to something to make this as painless as possible. “If this is because of Ron’s article-”

“It’s not, sit down. I have something else for you,” she smiled. You followed her instructions and stared at her, unused to the kindness. “What do you know about the Royal Family of Monaco?”

“Monaco?” you wracked your brain. “The King died a few years ago, the new King just got married, and the other two are racecar drivers, right?”

“Exactly, anything about the second eldest Prince?” she mused. 

You grimaced. “He’s more loyal to Ferrari than his girlfriends and he’s a royal disgrace?”

She grinned. “Yes! Exactly that! Obviously, Charles moved off from the royal duties a long time ago, but Lorenzo has decided to abdicate since his fiance has fallen ill, in Monaco there’s a rule that the throne can be uncrowned for one year and it turns out Lorenzo abdicated in December last year.”

“So Charles has to take the throne?” you asked. “But he’s a driver there’s no way he’d… what happens then?”

She smirked. “That’s exactly what you’re going to find out! His Royal Highness is due back at the Castle this weekend, but in case he also abdicates, I need someone to write on it! There’s a press conference on the 18th, and I want your boots on the ground!”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why me?” you smiled, genuinely curious. 

“You’re intelligent, talented, hungry for a story- also none of my regular writers are willing to give up their Christmas,” she admitted. You nodded, knowing you were a last resort. 

“Thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down.” 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“He’s gorgeous!” Damon fawned over the pictures of him. 

You shrugged. “He’s such a douche, I cannot believe people still find him attractive after all the stuff he’s done.”

“Who wouldn't forgive a face and body like that?” 

You looked at the photos. Yes, he was conventionally attractive, but his track record of scorned girlfriends, and the semi-awful fashion sense (who , over the age of 12, still wears tie dye jeans?) put you off. “He’s not my type.” 

He stared at you. “He’s everyone’s type. Everyone is a Ferrari fan, and everyone is a Charles LeClerc fan.”

“I still don’t see it,” you shrugged. 

“You should try to seduce him! Make him your husband and just excuse all the cheating so you can be royal and rich,” he suggested. 

“I do not want that,” you scoffed. “Plus, I’m not on the market right now.”  

He groaned. “You two broke up a whole year ago. Don’t let him yuck your yum 12 months on!”

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You walked into Rudy’s, your dad’s diner, you couldn’t but feel the weight of the conversation you were just about to have. You had spent Christmas as just the two of you every year since your mom had passed, you didn’t want to just leave him alone. The regulars raved about the pies as you stepped in from the cold, snowy air. 

“The usual?” your dad asked, you nodded and smiled, waving to some of the regulars you knew. “How are you doing sweetie?” 

“Good, great!” You smiled, plastering on your best ‘i’m fine!’ face. 

“What happened?” he asked, concerned. You deflated.

“I have good news and bad news,” you explained.

“Bad news first,” he decided. 

“I won’t be here on Christmas- but, It’s because I got my first story.”

He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “That’s amazing! Your first real story! This is your big break!”

“You don’t mind that I’ll miss Christmas?”

He shook his head. “This is your big break, take it. Don’t worry about me. You go over to wherever, and you make me proud.”

You smiled, pulling him into another hug, and thanked him. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The flight was long and uncomfortable, thus the joys of economy, and the dickhead that stole your cab wasn’t much nicer either. 

You and the rest of the press were all then bundled into cars and brought to the palace. 

“First time?” The reporter beside you questioned. You nodded your head, slightly embarrassed about the fact that they could tell, but he just chuckled. “Word to the wise, pick a new career.”

The rest of the car was an eruption of laughter, small agreements, or a scoff. You chuckled along, but you couldn’t help but feel small. You were the only woman in your car, the only new reporter, and-

Woah. Holy shit. 

The Monaco Palace. 

Any and all other thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as you stared in awe at the beautiful structure. The wide windows and beautiful pillars, all decorated perfectly for Christmas. Though it wasn’t snowing (like back home), you did appreciate the gesture of making it feel like Christmas. You were enchanted by the palace, it stood tall on the edge of the bay, fitting in perfectly with the rest of the gorgeous scenery. 

You walked in behind the rest of the press, a nervous energy buzzing in the air. Prince Charles was an F1 favourite, a master of the sport, and now he had to give it all up for the crown. Everyone was more than excited to see if he’d actually show up, which seemed increasingly unlikely as the moments ticked away. He did every single piece of press Ferrari or the FIA asked him to do, and he seemed to enjoy the majority of them, but the second the palace asked him to do something, he was ‘too busy’. It left a bad taste in your mouth. You were exactly a patriot, but you thought that one should at least appreciate the fact that they were a part of their country, and the people deserved to hear from their Prince, not only through sports interviews. He’d been photoshopped into the palace's Christmas cards for the past 4 years, for god’s sake. 

You pushed your opinion of him to the side and turned your attention to the palace. The tall white walls and arched ceilings, the beautiful and historic artwork hanging off the walls, god, you’d give anything to be allowed free reign in here with your camera. Your attention was then grabbed by the PR liaison, Penelope, standing at the panel desk looking increasingly nervous.

After another 30 minutes of waiting, the repress started getting restless. Lorenzo was never late. Hervé had never been late. Pascale was never late. Arthur was never late. Charles was the outlier. He slept with too many women, drank too much, and ‘disgraced the crown’, according to the Monegasque reporters beside you. You didn’t care much for all of the gossip pages he frequented, and only watched F1 on the occasion that your father wanted to watch it. But, it was clear that he thought that following his dreams of being a racecar driver were more important than his duties, and while you understood the push and pull of having a dream, there were also expectations to meet, and he didn’t meet them. 

“We regret to inform you that this press conference has been cancelled-” 

She was cut off by about 200 reporters shouting and groaning. 

You politely raised your hand, and all eyes turned to you. “When can we expect the press conference to be rescheduled?” You asked and the room was alive again, this time, in agreement. 

“As of right now, we won’t be rescheduling,” she offered a polite smile as everyone collectively groaned again. 

“Well can we at least expect a date at which he’ll be crowned?”

“He will be crowned on Christmas Eve, at the annual Christmas Ball,” she smiled. 

“Which is a private event, so what are we to tell your people? They can’t see him getting crowned as their next king? No media are allowed in, no cameras, phones are barely allowed. What will your people think?” you questioned, your voice dripping with condescension. The rest of the reporters cheered you on, no one had stood up against his behaviour before. No one. 

She faltered, and then the room started being cleared by security, much to the chagrin of the rest of you. You were kicked out, a collection of grumbles and groans, knowing Christmas was ruined because of some stupid Prince and his childish antics. 

You couldn’t go home empty handed. You’d never get a chance like this again, so breaking and entering into the Monaco Palace wasn’t that bad of a crime, right? 

You came into a long hallway, the marble walls and floors taking your full attention, until you came across a picture. It was the royal family, a picture of the five of them, taken before Hervé passed. Charles was only 20, Arthur was only 16. Lorenzo was 29. And they lost their father. In the photo, they’re sitting at a dinner table, looking happy. It didn’t look posed, or professionally taken. It looked like it had been taken on an iphone. Charles was smiling bright, his arm around his little brother and his father. Lorenzo’s arm around Pascale as she held Arthur’s hand. Charles was truly the thing that dragged you in. His bright smile, eyes crinkled at the edges, laughing so hard he must’ve felt sick. The way everyone else’s eyes were on him. He was like a magnet. Not because of his good looks or lovably dorky personality, but because of something else. He was just… interesting. 

“Can I help you?” a security guard asked, his voice booming and strong. You jumped. 

“Gosh! Sorry, umm-yes-no-um-”

“American?” he asked, and you were sure you were busted. But then he smiled. “Follow me.”

You followed him through the halls until you were in front of a tall woman with brunette hair. You knew who she was, her name was Georgia, the palace coordinator. She was terrifying to stand in front of. You’d never felt so judged in your life. 

“You’re the new tutor?” she questioned. You just nodded. “I thought you couldn’t come until January?”

“My last job finished up early,” you lied. A sinking pit in your stomach started growing, but you just swallowed it. You’d deal with it later. 

“Oh,” she smiled. “Perfect, I’ll bring you to meet him,” she smiled. 

What were you getting yourself into?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Turns out Arthur LeClerc needed a tutor to help with his engineering course. Thank god you’d dated that engineer who wanted to mansplain every single part of a car to you, and you could get by the maths with a calculator. Arthur wasn’t exactly a fan of having someone younger than him tutor him, he felt stupid, you could tell. You did everything you could to reassure him that it truly was alright to need help, and he was starting to come around, but every time you two really started talking, Charles would appear. And yes, Charles had been that asshole who’d taken your cab at the airport. Even more of a reason to hate him.

“Arthur!” Charles called up as you finished explaining a sum, which he was finally getting, but of course, Charles had to distract him. “Sim work?” he offered, popping his head in the door. You frowned. He was clean-shaven, unlike the small goatee and mustache he’d been sporting before. Objectively, he was attractive either way, but you personally preferred the facial hair. 

He frowned back at you. “What?”

Arthur attempted to get up to join his brother, but you held him down to his seat with a hand on his shoulder. He sighed. 

“What?” you repeated. “Arthur is busy with lessons, your Royal Highness, you can come back in 2 hours, when he’s finished,” you smile politely, though your tone was less than warm. 

“2 hours?” Arthur sighed, looking at you with pleading eyes. 

“I’m not the one who failed their midterm,” you said, matter-of-factly. He nodded, agreeing. 

“Why did you look at me like that?” Charles smirked, walking into the study. 

“Like what?” you asked, engrossed in the work, trying to decipher Arthur’s handwriting. 

“Like you didn’t like what you saw,” he mused. 

You scoffed. “I was just surprised by the baby face, that’s all.” 

He frowned, making Arthur laugh. “Baby face?”

“You look like a 12 year old boy without facial hair, it freaks me out,” you pointed out. 

Charles left the room with whatever dignity he still had intact, and you and Arthur rather enjoyed the teasing. 

“Will you be my guest tonight?” he turned to you, discarding his work. 

“What’s tonight?” you asked. 

“Some boring drinks and dinner thing with the whole of Charles’s team, and other nobility. It’s going to be such a chore to go without you, please come?” 

You smiled. “I’d be honoured.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You kind of hated the whole ‘double agent’ thing. You were getting on really well with Arthur, Charles was enough to stomach (in small intervals), and Lorenzo had been too busy to really meet. Georgia had been on you about different things, but you always had to remember that a) your name was in fact not Y/n, but Martha. And b) You still had to be a reporter. You still had to break into these people’s privacy, and make it a story. You were pretty sure what you were doing was illegal in America, so you were just hoping it wasn’t a crime here. As the night went on you snapped pictures of Pascale, Lorenzo, some of the other nobility and some of the important F1 drivers (a friend was doing an expose on one of them for cheating so… yeah). You didn’t catch a glimpse of his Royal (pain-in-the-ass) Highness all night, that was, until he made an(uncharacteristically (not)) late arrival. You also left Arthur to go hang out with his girlfriend, who had surprised him this weekend by arriving a whole week early. 

“How are you enjoying the party?” Arthur smiled, walking up behind you as you tried to take photos of the nobility as secretly as possible. You quickly hid your phone. 

“Very much so, thank you for inviting me,” you smiled. 

“Staring at Charles?” he questioned, noticing how you’d been following him around the room. 

“Trying to find something to eat,” you lied. Again, that pit in your stomach grew every single day that you were at the palace. “Not a fan of the meat-jelly.”

He grimaced. “Me neither, follow me.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Possibly the best gingerbread cookies entered your mouth soon after. “Wow,” you nodded, and he smiled back. You stared at him. “Where’s Jade?”

“She’s off with her friends,” he answered, but you knew it was a guess. 

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You hated me three days ago,” you chuckled. 

“You’re not like everyone here,” he shrugged. “You’re normal.”

You smiled. “I know I’m, normal, btu so are you-”

“A ‘normal’ 24 year old who has a palace and a crown, as well as an affinity for racing cars. I’m so normal.”

You laughed. “No one’s perfect.”

Then a tall man, who looked a little bit like Arthur, joined you. 

“Cousin Arthur,” he smiled. 

“Cousin Simon,” he sighed, less than impressed with having to see him. 

Simon looked at you, slightly confused. “Was your mother feeling charitable, inviting the chambermaids again?” he joked, but it wasn’t funny. Arthur didn't laugh, he groaned. 

“She’s my tutor, actually. And I invited her. Mrs. Martha Whelan, meet my cousin, Simon.” 

You stood up and held your hand out to be shook, but he shied away. “Nice to meet you Simon.” 

“You can address me as Lord Dukesburg,” he explained, taking great offence. Ah, this was Simon Dukesburg, the man who has been after the throne since Arhtur’s father died. He said some of the most out-of-touch shit about Lorenzo, saying he couldn’t be the King because he wasn’t Herve’s blood-related son. 

“I find that nobility who require someone to use their title might be compensating for something,” Charles interjected, making you stifle a laugh, whereas Arthur laughed out loud. 

“And what might I be compensating for?” he scoffed. 

“I wonder,” Charles smirked. Then someone else interjected the conversation and pulled the both of them away from you and Arthur. 

“Simon hates Charles,” Arthur explained. “He’s ahead of him in the succession, since it goes by age, not actual blood relation, he’s ahead of me.”

“So if Charles abdicates, Simon has the throne?” you questioned. 

Arthur nodded. You looked up at the two men again, and found Charles already looking back at you. You offered a small smile, which was returned, then you turned back to Arthur. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“I'm really not sure there’s any dirt here,” you sighed, explaining it for the millionth time to your boss. 

She wasn’t having it. You ended the call feeling even worse than before. Honestly, you were one day away from just leaving the palace all together and admitting your crimes. It was eating you up inside, you could barely sleep, barely eat. It was all a little bit too much for you. You understood that reporters had to be cut-throat, but god, it was hard work pretending to be someone you weren't, especially to people as kind as the LeClerc’s. As you walked through the halls of the palace, unable to sleep, you heard some piano music. You followed the sound and found Prince Charles at his piano, incredibly talented. Sadly, it ended the second he noticed you, about 30 seconds of you being there. 

“Sorry for interrupting, your Royal Highness,, I’ll head back-”

“Call me Charles,” he smiled. 

Slightly blind-sided, you weren’t sure what to say. “That was beautiful,” you smiled. 

“Thank you,” he smiled, getting up. “My father made me take lessons. It’s a great passion of mine.”

“I’ve heard your father was a great man,” you smiled. 

“He was,” Charles agreed.. 

“Won’t be easy to replace him,” you mused, hoping he would give you something, anything worth writing the story over. 

“I’m not trying to replace him,” he explained. “No one could.”

“Oh god! No, I didn’t mean it like that- just… there must be a lot of pressure on you, I didn’t mean it…” you trailed off and he smiled. 

“Well, you’re under more pressure than you bargained for, right?” he smirked. 

Shit. He knew. Somehow. He knew. You were bout to get arrested by the fucking Prince of Monaco. How embarrassing. 

“My brother can really be a handful,” he chuckled. 

You took a deep breath. He didn’t know. You were safe, for now at least. You chuckled. “He’s actually pretty great.”

“After our father died, he took it very hard,” he explained. 

“I lost my mom, same age and everything,” you explained, a flat smile on your face. 

He nodded. “So you know what it’s like then.”

You nodded. “Holidays are the worst.”

“I’m glad he has someone to talk to.”

“So, now that you’re back… is it for good? Arthur talks about you all the time. He misses you when you’re gone. Is all that talk about abdication just… rumors?” you questioned, feeling like the worst human being in the world for manipulating this family the way you were. They were good people. Maybe yes, they’re rich and commit tax fraud, but good people. 

He sighed. “It’s very hard to know what to do.”

FUCK! 

Great. So there is a story. Ideal. It’s not like if he’d just said, ‘yes, they’re all just rumors’, you could’ve gone home and never had to think about the awful things you’ve done here, but now you have to stay, to listen to him. Great.

“I heard you didn’t want to give your… lifestyle,” you asked. “Is that true?”

“What lifestyle is that?” he scoffed, slightly amused.

“I don’t know. The women, wine, and cars?” 

“Is that what you think I am?” he chuckled. 

“I don’t know who you are, Charles, but if your brother is any indication, I wouldn’t exactly believe everything I read. Good night.” 

And with that you left the room, feeling like a terrible person, and he was more than intrigued by you. 

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Christmas Eve rolled closer and closer, and every night seemed to be one of celebration. You decorated the tree with the family (aka you sat in the corner not eating or drinking because of the guilt, and watched over Arthur, making sure he was alright). 

“To family and friends,” Pascale smiled. 

“And new friends!” Arthur called, lifting your hand. You smiled at him, thankful that you had a friend there. 

“What are your traditions Martha?” Charles asked, turning attention to you. 

“Well, my father and I light a candle and we bake my mothers favourite cookies,” you explained, a smile on your face. “I know how it feels to… have someone missing during traditions,” you assured Arthur, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Just then, Lady Sophia appeared in the doorway. Lady Sophia, Charles’s childhood best friend and the leading lady of the greatest will-they-won’t-they story of all time. She wore a beautiful long flowing gown with a present in hand for Pascale. She elegantly dodged cousin Simon’s advances (you applauded her for that), and went straight to Pascale and Charles. 

“Sophia, it’s lovely to see you,” she smiled, pulling her in for a hug. 

“It’s lovely to see you too,” she smiled, then moved on to Charles. “Charles, good to see you.”

Charles greeted her with his best flirty smirk, and Arthur turned to you, fake gagging, which made you both laugh. All eyes turned to the two of you for a moment, before you quickly shut up, and the greetings continued. Lady Sophia was staying for Christmas, how wonderful. Maybe you could get an early access to their engagement story- god you felt sick with yourself. 

You turned to Arthur engrossed in the small toy car he had in his hands, a gift from his father, he spoke about it as you listened, barely noticing Charles over both of your shoulders. 

“I remember when you first got that,” he chuckled, ruffling Arthur’s hair. “You were so happy with it, you wanted to be just like dad.”

“Now you are,” you smiled, squeezing Arthur;’s hand. He’d be moving up to F1 next year, in a Haas seat (Esetban Ocon shit the bed, oops), and Arthur was the next best Ferrari junior driver. Arthur beamed back at you, and Charles gave himself a moment to study you. 

You were so gentle, so smart, so kind, so… you. He was entranced by you. You were some sort of enigma. He didn’t want to sound full of himself, but women did throw themselves at him, it was a simple fact, and you didn’t. You weren’t interested in him at all, in fact. It was refreshing. 

“Charles!” Lady Sophie called. “Will you put my ornament on the tree?” 

He (begrudgingly) took his eyes off of you and joined her at the side of the tree. Funnily enough, her ornament was a heart. 

“Be gentle with it,” she told him, and he sighed, knowing it wasn’t just the ornament she was talking about.He placed it on the ree and when he looked back at you, you were already engrossed in conversation with Arthur about something else and he thought it best not to pry. You barely liked him as is, he shouldn’t push his luck. 

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The day you get bossed around by Arthur LeCerc may actually be the biggest joke of your life. He found out that you were a journalist, and he didn’t even care. He just… wanted a friend, and for you to write the truth about his brother. Which you were happy to oblige. 

So, instead of going over aerodynamics, you baked Christmas cookies. 

“What’s with Charles and Lady Sophia?” you questioned, shovelling some of the batter into your mouth. Arthur shrugged. 

“She’s had a crush on him for ages, but he’s never liked her back,” he shrugged, eating some of the icing. “She’s always trying to get with him though.” 

“Simon seems to like her,” you pointed out, shooing him away from the icing (he’d eaten half of it). 

Arthur groaned. “Simon has wanted everything Charles has had since they were 3. He even tried go-karting. He was shit though,” he chuckled. “But y’know, everyone wants what we have.”

You cracked a smile. “You are the royal family of one of the most beautiful countries in Europe.”

Arthur sighed. “It was different though, before my dad died, it was-” he cut himself off, trying to to cry. You pulled him into a hug. 

“He’s not gone Arthur, you’ll always remember him,” you smiled, he nodded against your neck. “Come on, we need to get these in the oven before I eat all of the batter.”

He laughed, joining you beside the oven. 

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The next morning was the children’s fundraiser, where everyone was expected to be a guest. You, again, were Arthur’s, Jade having left a few days earlier to spend time with her family. One of those asshole reporters came up to you, but he got them away, and you knew that by tomorrow, people would already assume you were his new girlfriend, or something along those lines, so you made sure to tell him to talk about Jade in interviews. After the wonderful carol service, Pascale came out to the stage and addressed the public, announcing Charles’s speech. 

When she called his name, he didn’t show. 

Arthur sighed, grabbing your hand and running you to the Orphanage. There he was, playing with the children. He looked so… happy. He was telling them about every corner in the Monaco Grand Prix, and telling them what it felt like to win it. They all sat around him, listening intently, desperate to hear from him. You took out your phone and took a photo, seeing a tiny glimpse of that same 20 year old boy from the picture.  

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“Charles, help me understand why you were unable to carry out your duty today?” Pascale asked, exasperated with her son. 

“I thought my duty was to those children,” his words bit through the tension in the air. 

“There is much more to being kind than simply compassion,” she sighed. “You need to be strong, a leader. You need to be someone that those people can look up to and say, ‘that’s my king, and he can make the hard decisions’. Not someone who tiptoes around his duties like a schoolboy. Arthur had to give your speech instead. Now every outlet thinks your abdicating and giving the throne to him right when he’s on the cusp of his dreams-”

“I have dreams!” he shouted. “I have a life, I have a dream-”

“And we gave you 8 years to make it happen. You have to grow up now Charles,” she commanded. 

“Mother I-”

“Do you seriously think you’re the only one who wants to run away?” she questioned. “The only one who has dreams, and feelings, and a weariness about everything?”

“I’m-”

“This has been the hardest year of my life,” she choked up. “Lorenzo abdicating, you off in god-knows-where racing a car that can’t win, and Arthur trying his damndest to make his dreams come true, while I deal with it all. While I ‘hold down the fort’. You have a duty to your country, but you also have a duty to your family, Charles. I have complete faith in you, and then some. You will be a brave, and compassionate King. But you need to realise that sacrifice is a part of life. One we may have shielded you from, and I am sorry for that. But you need to make a sacrifice here. Royal life isn’t the prison you make it out to be. You can be happy, and you will be. But you need to learn to be happy with what you’ve got, because you have so much Charles. You have your family, you’ll meet someone nice and then you’ll have your own. You don’t need to race cars to feel strong. You need to be yourself. The people of Monaco are looking for someone they know after a year of confusion and shock. You need to be the comforting voice. I know you can be.” 

“I’m trying,” he whispered. 

“I have faith in you. You need to have faith in yourself. Don’t try to be your father, be Charles. He’s just as wonderful.”

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Arthur wasn’t going to focus, it was 3 days till Christmas, and he was kind of like an over-excited child. You suggested an adventure, and that is how you ended up racing speed boats with Arthur and a few of his friends. You two won, of course, and he may or may not have accidentally shoved you overboard and made you hit your head. But you were probably fine. Probably. You two relaxed on the water for a while, enjoying the Monaco sun asn the sun began to set and all of his friends went home. 

Then you felt something hit into the edge of your boat. Another speedboat. Driven by none other than Prince Charles. 

“Race you?” he smirked at his brother, his eyes then landing on you. He stopped, almost doing a double take when he saw you in your swimsuit, his mouth opening slightly. You didn’t seem to notice. Arthur did and he rolled his eyes, hoping against hope that Charles and his master-manipulating ways would pass you by and go onto the next person.

“You’re on!” Arthur shouted back, reeving up the engine, and thus the great race of speedboats began. Sadly, once again, Arthur LeClerc is very much not coordinated, so he shoved you off the boat, again. Charles immediately slowed down, turning back to grab you, but he found you laughing. He reached a hand in, and pulled you up onto his boat, grabbing your waist when you almost slipped and fell. You were close, much too close. You could feel his breath on your face, his eyes staring into yours, the look of shock, but neither one of you was asking to stop. It was different, a good difference. He was right there, right in front of you, and you didn’t look at him with annoyance, or anger, or distance. One of those fleeting moments of the both of you truly just being yourselves. Well, you were Marha and he was the Prince of Monaco, soon to be King. He saw every freckle on your face, every small wrinkle line, every flutter of your eyelashes. He loved it. He loved being this close to you. He loved the way you were smiling at him, and once he’d started looking at your lips, he couldn’t stop. 

Arthur threw a snorkel at the two of you, making you jump apart, you almost falling off the boat again (actually your fault that time), but you just fell into Arthur’s boat. “No fraternising with the enemy!”

And the race was back on.

Unbeknownst to you, Lady Sophia and Duke Arsehole (aka Cousin Simoin), were riding by on a perfectly sublime boat ride, and saw the three of you enjoying yourselves. You had joined Charles' side, winning against Arthur every time, and then you’d be swapped back, or Arthur would swap. 

Lady Sophia didn’t like it one bit. 

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When you got back to the palace, Lorenzo was standing at the top step of the stairs, his mother beside him. 

“Where have you three been?” he demanded. 

“Lorenzo, we were-” Charles began.

“Speedboat racing in the bay?” he finished.  

The three of you stood there, silent and still, unsure of what to do next. 

“I suggest next time that you ask permission, Ms. Whelan,” he addressed you, and you nodded quickly offering multiple apologies. “And next time, maybe include the other members of the family. It’s not like we've never raced in our lives,” he smiled, before walking off. You had a feeling they hadn’t seen Arthur this happy in a long time. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in you, that you had been the one to help him get himself back. 

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Arthur was busy with his duties, so you were given the day off, the day before Christmas Eve. You needed to get to know Charles better, so you could right all the wrongs online about him. He was going for a bike ride, so you followed suit, clearly forgetting about the fact that you knew nothing about Monaco, and the limited cell-service was really helpful. Oh, and when you fell off your bike and cut the shit out of your knee, you really wondered whether it was you or Arthur who was clumsy. 

“Are you alright?”a voice called out, a voice you couldn't quite place, until Charles was in front of you and taking a look at your knee. “This looks bad, come with me.”

He helped you up, and while Mont Agel was beautiful, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere, what was he going to do? 

Bring you to his secret cabin, of course. 

Literally, was this dude James Bond? 

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You sat outside on his patio as the sun set. He handed you a glass of water. You thanked him. 

“So, now that you’re alright,” he smiled (he’d bandaged up your leg despite the thousands of times you assured him you were fine). “Why were you following me?”

You sighed. “I was curious about Monaco, and I didn’t want to bother you,” lie after lie after lie. You were continuously sick. Maybe that other reporter was right, maybe you did need a new career. 

“You couldn’t bother me,” he assured you, an easy smile on his lips. 

“So what is… this?” you asked, gesturing to the house. “James Bond hideout or?

He laughed. “No, nothing interesting like that. This is just my house,” he smiled. 

“So you’ve lived in Monaco the entire time?” you asked. 

“The Palace is a bit too much for me at times,” he explained. “So I come here.”

“That’s nice,” you smiled. “Why do you find the Palace too much?”

He sighed. “Everyone is always looking at me.”

“Everyone is away looking at you in F1 too, you have like, millions of fan-girls,” you giggled. 

“That’s different,” he argued. “I’m a driver there, that’s talent and hard work, I was just… handed the throne.”

“You were born into it,” you corrected him. “And just because you came across something easily doesn’t mean you haven’t struggled. I mean yes, it’s a lot of responsibility, but why wouldn’t you want to be King of Monaco?” 

“Do we have to talk about this?” he sighed, getting up and pacing the patio. 

“It might be good for you to talk it through,” you told him. 

“I can’t even go for dinner with my friends without it being an international scandal!” he groaned. 

“Like, when you went out with Sophia?” you mused. 

“That was different, she sold a story to a tabloid, and the media had a field day,” he sighed, slumping back into his chair. 

“The media is what’s holding you back?” you questioned, feeling your stomach twist. 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Explain it then,” you smiled gently. 

He looked at you for a moment, and for a fraction of a second, you could see that boy from the picture again. The magnetic, messy, smiley boy his parents had adored. The boy who worked so hard to prove himself. Then those walls went right back up and what replaced him was the man; older, wiser, and hurt. “Why bother? You probably think I’m just a spoiled rich kid anyway.”

You scoffed. “I never said that!” you argued, getting up and turning to him. “You know what you need to do, stop worrying so much about what everyone thinks of you, or how they’re going to perceive you. You’re a good person, with good instincts, and despite being actual nobility, you have morals, good ones, the kind that makes you miss a speech because you’re helping children. The kind that makes you worry about your little brother so much that you come home when he asks you to. The kind that makes you kind. Stop trying to be your father Charles, just be, Charles.” 

He sighed, standing beside you. “You make that sound so simple,” he scoffed. 

“Why isn't it? You’re a smart, talented, caring person-”

“Except when I steal your taxi,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes. He paused for a moment, his eyes shining in the low light of the sun. “I want to show you something.”

You stared at him, grimacing slightly. “What is it?”

“Follow me,” he said, taking your hand. He led you through his house, up to a room filled with books. 

“You read?”

“After my father died,” he explained. “We kept some of the overflow of his habit here. He also kept his journals here. I found a poem, it was dated just before he died, I think he was going to give it to my mother.”

Frost a sparkle in the fields, 

Twixt the frozen minarets, 

Winter’s harvest, wager yields, 

Heavy burden’s, the years debts, 

P[out from a seed, an acorn’s gift, 

Henceforth the truth will flood, 

Darkness such a secret bears, 

A love far greater than blood.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, reading the poem. Charles’s eyes were on you. You were so close, just like on the bat, just like he wished for every single day since you’d come into his life. He leaned in and you didn’t back away. You didn’t run, or lean in either, you were still, your eyes trained on his lips.

Then your phone rang, and off you went to find it. Part of him wanted to grab you back and kiss you, but even he, in his delirious love-filled haze, knew the moment had passed, and he would just have to wait until the next one. 

As you two were getting ready to go back to the palace, he left to go grab something from his room. His father’s desk took your attention, and you obliged yourself. Hidden in plain sight was a secret drawer with a stack of documents in it. As much as you hated yourself for it, you took the documents back to the palace with you. 

Within those documents you found out a truth, a truth so great, you had no idea what to say. Charles and Arthur were adopted as children. 

What the fuck were you going to do now?

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As you were walking through the halls with Arthur the next day, you saw Lady Sophia and Charles… kissing. Great, barf. Anyways. You had to finish your story, get something on the page, make this torment of a trip worth something. If you broke the story today, you could be out of there before Christmas, and their lives would be a lot easier. You thought about coming clean, but the thought of it actually made you vomit in your mouth. You were lost. You had no idea what to do. 

So, you called your dad. What else were you supposed to do?

“Y/n!” he smiled, it was only a phone call but you could tell. “How are you?”

“Hey dad, remember how you said I have to take chances to win?” you asked.

“They are my words to live by,” he chuckled, understanding that something was going on. “Is everything alright?”

“What if that chance is going to really hurt people who don’t deserve it?” you questioned.

“I’m going to need more than that sweetheart,” he sighed. 

“My story, if I release it, it might hurt someone who’s already been through a lot. I’m just…” you trailed off

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know anything about the world of publishing and reporting, but I do know that you have to trust your gut.”

You smiled. “Thanks dad.”

“I’m better than a fortune cookie, right?” he joked and you both chuckled. “I’ll see you soon sweetheart.”

“Bye dad-” as you hung up the phone, there was a knock on your door. You tentatively got up and opened the door, only to find Charles on the other side, dressed in a Ferrari branded suit, a small smile on his face. 

“Hi, is there something I can do for you?” you asked, slightly awkward and unsure. You didn’t really want him to look in your room too much, considering the documents of his adoption were literally on your desk, but alas, what would be, would be. 

“I thought we could go for a walk?” he offered. “I can actually show you around Monaco, now that I know you want a tour guide.”

Your smile faltered. “I don’t know,” you sighed. The media had been stirring everything up ever since the boat, you were the ‘mystery girl’ being passed around by the LeClerc’s, and it didn’t feel great. 

He looked at you with pleading eyes. “Please, just give me a few minutes of your time. I would like some company.”

“Sure, let me grab my coat,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

As you two walked through the streets of Monaco, he spoke freely about the beautiful buildings and people he knew so well, while you listened. You liked it, but it broke your heart slightly, to know that you had lied to the entire family for weeks now. But another part of you was grateful that you got to meet them, because you knew you had been changed for the better. It was also nice to see Charles be less… upset than when you first came. He smiled more, laughed more, and spent more time with Arthur, it was lovely to see. 

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes darting around your face as you looked at the pavement. “Are you alright?”

“Do you often take the help for a walk?” you questioned, your tone soft but the words bit at him anyway. 

“What?” he questioned.

“Nothing, it’s stupid. Go back to your story Charles,” you sighed, walking on. 

He grabbed your hand, turning you back to him. “Please talk to me. I feel like you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you.”

“What would Lady Sophia say if she saw us walking together?” you scoffed. 

“Why would that matter?” 

“I saw you two,” you said.

“Whatever you saw, trust me, there is nothing there,” he pleaded. 

“It didn’t look like that to me,” you scoffed. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“She was just… taking her chance again, even after I explicitly told her not to.”

“Sure,” you nodded. “It doesn’t matter anyways. Charles.”

You were both silent for a moment. He took the opportunity to study your face. The way your eyebrows creased, the tightness of your lips, the determined stare forward. He smiled. You were so smart, and headstrong, and right all the time (which kind of drove him crazy), but he loved it all. He loved you. 

“I hope you’ll come tomorrow night,” he admitted. You looked at him confused. “The Ball. My coronation.” 

You couldn’t do it anymore. You had to tell him. He couldn’t keep living this lie, and neither could you. “Charles, I need to tell you something-”

But he kissed you. Of course, he fucking kissed you, because he’d been wanting to do it since the day you arrived at the palace. He was in love with you, if he hadn't made that obvious enough, and yes, he kissed you, because the fact that he hadn’t yet was driving him mad. He didn’t want Sophia, he didn’t want anyone else, he wanted you. 

And it was everything he could’ve dreamed of. His arms circled your waist, pulling you close to him, while his lips explored your soft ones, the taste of cherry on them. You must use some sort of cherry lip balm, and it quickly became one of his favourite tastes. Your arms slowly crept up to wrap around his neck, and when he pulled back you just pulled him back in. 

This was the real Charles. The one who loved people unabashedly and didn’t care what people thought. This was that 20 year old boy in the photo. This was the boy you had slowly fallen in love with, without even realising it. 

And it was wonderful. 

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Much to your chagrin, while you were off tonguing the next King of Monaco, Lady Sophia and Cousin Arsehole were busy looking through your things. Unluckily for you, they found something.

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Charles sat in the driver’s seat of his Ferrari, half willing himself to man-up, and the other half begging himself to turn around. He couldn't though, not when he was this close to finally visiting his father’s resting place for the first time in months. 

He got up and out of the car, your voice in his head telling him to get over himself, with that soft, perfect, smile on your lips. 

He walked up to the grave, determined to speak to his father once again. 

“I’ll take the crown,” he whispered, his eyes flooding with tears. “I’ll never measure up to you, but I will take it. For you and for mom.”

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You stood in your room, wondering what the fuck one wears to a coronation. 

Arthur stood in the doorway, smiling brightly. He frowned when he saw your dress. 

“It’s this or pyjamas,” you dead-panned. He walked in, taking the dress out of your hands and sitting on your bed. 

“How’s the story coming along?” he asked. “Nearly done?”

“Almost,” you huffed, laying beside him. 

He sighed. “I’ll miss you when you go,” he admitted, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. You almost forgot how much he’d been through, his sunny demeanour always seemed to make you forget his troubles.  “It was nice to have a friend.”

You turned to him. “I’ll always be your friend,” you smiled. “And I’ll be cheering you on in Haas, and in everything else you do. I think you’re brilliant Arthur, seriously.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. I hope everything goes well for you back in New York.”

 “I hope so too,” you teased, wiping a tear off his cheek. 

“I got you something,” he smiled cheekily, handing over a small box. 

“Arthur!” you scolded. “We said no gifts!”

“There was no way I was following that,” he chuckled. “Open it!”

You slowly opened the box, inside there was a beautiful necklace with a beautiful blue topaz on the end. “Oh my god Arthur, this is beautiful,” you whispered. 

“To remind you of the boat day” he grinned. “So you will never forget me.”

You smiled, your eyes cloudy with unshed tears. “I could never forget you, Arthur.” 

Then in walked Jade, his girlfriend, with an array of gowns on a rack. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. 

“Oh yes!” Arthur cheered. 

It was going to be a long afternoon. 

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You stood at the top of the steps, terrified of what anyone would say. Arthur had styled you (aka, Jade let him pick the dress) and while you thought you looked beautiful, you were slightly worried about what the nobility in the room would think. It had been fun though, an afternoon of being pampered and becoming friends with Jade was a lot more enjoyable than it was nerve-wracking. You slowly descended the steps, looking for Arthur, when Charles caught your eye. He looked beautiful, his hair perfectly styled, his suit perfect, his face perfect. He smiled up at you, excusing himself from his mother and brother to take your hand as you left the bottom step. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, taking in your dress. IN all honesty, there wasn’t a word for how he thought you looked. Regularly, a look from you made his heart stop. This? A different level. He was enamoured. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even if he wanted to. 

You felt your cheeks heat. “Thank you,” you smiled. “You look pretty handsome yourself.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I will see you in there, alright? I have to-”

“Do what you need to Charles,” you chuckled. “I’m not running away at midnight.”

He smiled. “I’m glad.”

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Despite the fact that it was a royal ball, it was quite entertaining. Different Duke’s and Duchess’s were dancing, letting loose, and getting pretty drunk, but you just sat with Arthur and Jade and laughed at them. The ballroom was magnificent, the tall ceilings and Christmas lights all around, and in the centre of the hall there was a 36 foot (yes, about the height of a telephone pole) Christmas tree, decorated perfectly. Even though you were miles and miles away from home, it was still nice to be celebrating with people you love. 

As you were speaking to Jade, someone started speaking. 

“Might I have the first dance, mon amour?” Charles asked, barely above a whisper as he wrapped an arm around your waist. 

You turned to him, your face dropping. “Seriously?”

“Well, as long as you promise not to tread on my feet, we should be alright,” he chuckled, leading you to the dance floor. You joined on, doing a simple waltz (you thanked your father mentally for making you take ballroom classes as a child), and it was very sweet. It was nice to be so open about being close to each other, no longer shying away from each other's affections. You liked having Charles so close. He liked having you in his arms. 

Win-win. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he said as you waltzed around the hall. “I wouldn’t be accepting the crown if it wasn’t for you, so thank you for telling me to grow up.”

You chuckled. “I think you’re giving me too much credit there.”

He shrugged. “I do not think so,” he smiled. “You make me feel comfortable, you’re the most genuine person I have met since… well probably since birth.”

Again, that nauseating feeling in your stomach urged you to run away and hide from him, even though your heart (as mad as it sounds) longed to never let him go. “I have to tell you something.”

He nodded. “You can talk to me about anything.”

As he spoke, the music stopped, and it was time. He would be crowned King. 

“Tell me after,” he whispered, as all eyes went to him. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck.”

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“I dispute this claim!” Lady Sophia’s voice shocked the room and you. Charles was so close, so close to taking his rightful seat as the King, and of course, someone had to make it difficult. 

“On what grounds?” the Archbishop asked.

“The grounds that he is in fact, not the rightful heir,” she smirked, smug as ever. “Prince Charles, and his brother Arthur, were in fact adopted by the late King Hervé and our Queen Pascale, therefore are not of the blood of the Royal family, as per this document.”

The certificate was taken from her, and shown to the Archbishop. “Where did you obtain this document?”

“I obtained it by uncovering a scheme by an American journalist, Ms. Martha Whelan, or should we call you Y/n Y/l/n?” 

All eyes went to you as the room was full of gasps. 

You knew you should've turned tail and ran, you knew you shouldn’t have stayed on when Arthur found out, and you knew you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the Prince of fucking Monaco. You were the dumbest person you’d ever met. 

You didn’t dare look at Charles, knowing what his expression would be. You just looked down. 

“Is that true, you are a journalist?” the Archbishop questioned. 

You spoke confidently, though the regret was evident in your voice. “I am.”

The room was in upheaval. Everyone was angry, everyone was confused, and everyone needed an answer. 

“And your Majesty, this certificate?”

The room went silent as Pascale began to speak. “It is legitimate.” 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You were running out as quickly as humanly possible, trailing just after Charles. 

“Charles, please, just let me explain-!”

“Explain what?” he spat, turning to you. 

“I’m sorry. I never meant for anything like this to happen, and I understand that you never want to see me again. I just had to tell you I’m sorry, and the only reason I kept it up was for you and Arthur.”

“And you couldn’t have told me?!”

“Arthur made me promise I wouldn’t tell you,” you sniffled. 

His face dropped. “He knew?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears. This wasn’t for you to be upset about. This was your mistake, and you couldn't fix it. 

“Why wouldn’t he let you tell me? Did he know he was adopted?”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t know. And I don’t know why he wouldn’t let me tell you. I just… he asked me not to.”

He stared at you for a moment, and it wasn’t those same, shining eyes that made your heart leap. It was the cold, dead, reserved eyes that made you want to run away and never come back, that stared back at you. “I’m glad you have your story. I suggest you stay out of our lives from now on.” 

And with that he walked on.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

New York was colder than you remembered. You had decided to just go straight to your apartment, turn off your phone, and binge watch shitty reality tv shows until you could show your face in public again without wanting to sob every time you saw something that remotely reminded you of Charles and Monaco. 

But something nagged at you. The acorn, the poem, ‘a love far greater than blood’. You didn’t understand it. So you spent about 12 hours working on deconstructing it, and you thought of something. Maybe it was your delusions after not sleeping for a day (or two), but maybe the acorn ornament could prove something, so you sent your findings over to Arthur, hoping they would make sense, and turned your phone back off, blocking all of their numbers and falling into a very needed sleep. 

౨ৎ˚���౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The next few weeks were full of clearing out your office (you quit), looking for a new job, and starting off as an actual journalist, not just cleaning up some sleaze work. It was nice, peaceful. Writing articles about things that mattered to you, things that would help people, things that weren’t a certain King of Monaco.

Life was good. Getting over your heartbreak was hard, but you were starting to believe that you might actually be alright. 

You sat in your dad’s diner, ready to ring in the New Year, when there was a snowball thrown on the glass, and when you looked outside, there he was.  

Quickly, you ran outside. “What are you doing here?” you questioned. 

He shrugged, “I never got to say goodbye, or thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me, I honestly should be apologising again and again for what I did, I am so sor-”

“You opened a door that should’ve been opened years ago. Arthur showed me what you’d done. Half because I couldn’t believe he could do it on his own, and half because… I thought it was going to be a message from you. You blocked me…”

“I didn’t want to risk bothering you anymore,” you sighed. 

“You’d never bother me,” he smiled, pausing for a moment. “Arthur misses you. So do I.”

“I miss you both too,” you smiled. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Y’know, a palace is a lonely place for a king, when he has no queen,” he admitted. 

“It’s a good thing you’re an eligible bachelor then,” you chuckled. “Good night Charles, thank you for coming to see me-”

“I love you,” he confessed. “You made me a better man- you make me a better man. I don’t even want to spend time without you, do you understand that?” he asked, getting down on one knee and revealing an engagement ring. 

You frowned, your eyes tearing up. “Charles, I am not nobility-”

“I don’t care,” he smiled.

“My entire life is in New York-”

“We can come back as much as you want.”

“What will the people think?” you sniffled, and he stood up, wrapping his arms around you. 

“They’ll think you're a kind, caring, beautiful woman with a very intelligent mind, and brilliant ideas, who is loved very much by their King,” he whispered, then pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“We barely know each other Charles-”

“And yet I’ve never been more certain in my life. And I’m known to be indecisive-” 

He stopped talking because you’d started kissing him. 

Jesus Christ, you were going to be the Queen of Monaco, what a story that was.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[extraliga-related]

With everything that's been going on lately, here's a short non-comprehensive accumulation of things that could be called progress regarding relations between men's hockey and being queer:

The 🇦🇺 AIHL's Melbourne Mustangs, advocating for trans rights in sports since 2017, and the same team in 2023, donning pride jerseys designed by former goalie (and twin sister of Ty) Tia Wishart who is part of the LGBTQ community.

Jase Polglase of the AIHL's Central Coast Rhinos who puts pride tape on his stick every single game.

Robert Dowd and Marc-Olivier Vallerand having a dance after a win with the Sheffield Steelers.

Starting off with individual efforts, the 🇬🇧 EIHL has since extended their pride event to the duration of a full weekend following a conjoint initiative by the teams' fanbases in 2019.

Zach Sullivan, one of the few out queer athletes in the sport, felt supported enough by his team to come out as bisexual ahead of the Manchester Storm's pride game in 2020.

Danish goalie Jon Lee-Olsen came out as gay a year prior and was reportedly supported by his teammates.

The 🇸🇪 SHL lead the way, awarding the cause a full week since 2019 with elaborate campaigns and getting refs as well as coaches involved. It's a colorful sight.

While Pride Games are at present not an official part of the schedule, several 🇩🇪 DEL teams are joining in. Augsburg and Köln do their part, Berlin has one of the dedicated queer fanclubs and visibly stands against homophobia since at least 2016.

As of 2022 the entire league, as well as a growing number of clubs in the tiers below, cooperate with Hockey is Diversity e.V.. So does the Para Ice Hockey National Team, including Jörg Wedde, who also keeps pride tape on his equipment.

🇫🇮 Liiga's TPS added these stunning jerseys to the mix.

While all the aforementioned teams already wear the jerseys for at least one full game, IF Kiruna of the Swedish 3rd league stepped it up several notches. In 2014 they've decided to wear rainbow jerseys for a full season in support of the LGBTQ community. Since then they've made the rainbow a permanent fixture in their logo and club identity.

___

Plenty of clubs out there hosting events where queer people are given a platform and shown support in a multitude of ways that aren't merely empty words.

And even if it's not part of general discussions within a league, you've got voices who are willing to speak up.

[dalishious]

A BioWare Guide on How to Murder a Fanbase

I have been a Dragon Age super-fan for almost fourteen years, now. I have played every game, with every DLC. I have read every novel, lore book, and every comic — yes, even the terrible ones that are better off forgotten. I have seen the anime film, the animated series, and the web mini-series. I have enjoyed all of these pieces of the franchise over and over, more times than I can count. So, make no mistake: the negativity you’re about to hear comes from a place of love for this fantasy world, developed by many creative people over the years. I would love nothing more than to see the resurrection of passion in the Dragon Age fandom again. But the unfortunate truth is, that resurrection is only needed because BioWare took the fandom out back and shot it in the first place.

In December 2018, three years after the release of Dragon Age: Inquisition’s Trespasser epilogue DLC, BioWare first announced the then-untitled next Dragon Age game with a teaser trailer. At this point, most fans were anticipating this would mean within the next couple years, we would see the game. This assumption was based on the fact that Dragon Age: Inquisition was first announced in 2012, and released in 2014, with an extra year of development added last minute.

There have been dribbles of extra content since then, adding to the franchise. This was enough to keep some fans still breathing and interested. 2020’s Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights was a lovely anthology. 2020’s Dragon Age: Blue Wraith and 2021’s Dark Fortress were wonderful comics tying up the story started in Knight Errant. And 2022’s Dragon Age: Absolution was a well-animated series with an interesting cast of characters and story. But all these still left the fandom with a major question: What was going on with the next game? It was untypical of BioWare to be so secretive, in comparison to how they handled sharing information of the past games in the franchise. The only form of updates fans still have to go on is mostly just concept art and short stories, hinting that something must be in production. But why was the wait so long?

In 2015, the first version of the next Dragon Age began with a clear vision, clear scope of practice, and a reportedly happy developer team. Most gloriously in my book, there was no multi-player… but this did not align with the Electronic Arts typical money-mad schemes. EA’s push for “games as a service” meant they wanted to monetize all their games as much as possible, and therefore, they wanted them to be a live service — as Anthem demonstrated, that meant sacrificing things that are staples of good RPGs, like narrative and character choice. So in 2017, version one of the next Dragon Age was scrapped and replaced. This new version would have, in total or to at least some degree, an online portion of play.

There is one part of Schreier’s article, “The Past and Present of Dragon Age 4,” that really sticks out to me, regarding this:

“One person close to the game told me this week that Morrison’s critical path, or main story, would be designed for single-player and that goal of the multiplayer elements would be to keep people engaged so that they would actually stick with post-launch content.”

The idea of splitting up components of a game into single-player and multi-player is a terrible idea, because it means that there would be a large bulk of content only accessible through online gaming; something many fans, like myself, are repulsed by. Even if I did enjoy it, I spent most of my life growing up with either no internet or shoddy internet incapable of playing online games. I know many rural people who are still in that position, losing more and more of their favourite gaming pastimes because they are locked out of the ability to play them. It is a disservice to hide content behind a wall like this, especially in a world that is so lore-heavy like Dragon Age. The news of multi-player in Dragon Age understandably upset many, and this is when I first noticed a large drop off in excitement over the next game.

However, in 2021, the failure of Anthem (multi-player) and success of Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order (single-player) led the executives at EA to bend to the wishes of BioWare leadership and allow them to go back to the drawing board yet again on the next Dragon Age. This meant removing all multi-player content!

While I am very happy that there will reportedly be no multi-player in Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, I can’t help but feel bitter and a little disgusted over the ridiculous development time spent on something no one but EA wanted in the first place. If it weren’t for this foolishness, Dragon Age: Dreadwolf would be in our hands right now. Instead, it’s been in development hell for nearly nine years and counting. Nine years is a long time to expect fans to carry a torch for you through radio silence, but it’s no wonder BioWare has shared barely anything about the next game; it’s been in flux for so long, they likely haven’t had anything concrete to show.

BioWare hurt its reputation even more when the news broke that the studio very suddenly laid off 50 people who were working on Dragon Age: Dreadwolf. This is pretty damning on its own, but BioWare took it a step further. Former developer Jon Renish shared a statement revealing that the studio was only willing to offer laid-off employees two weeks of severance per year of service, and denied health benefits. The denial of health benefits in particular is a pretty wild move for a studio with a reputation for “stress casualties”. The latest news on this is that BioWare has still so far refused to negotiate better severance packages, leading to a lawsuit. The lawsuit originally had 15 former employees, but this dropped due to the fear of not being able to afford to pay their bills. So now, while EA sits on $400 million net income, the laid-off employees are struggling to buy holiday presents for their children. These horrid business practices are not to be ignored when accounting for a lack of faith in a studio. What kind of monsters reward workers who make your games special with vaguely reasoned lay-offs?

The latest news on the Dragon Age: Dreadwolf front from BioWare came early this month, December 2023, with a trailer… announcing a trailer that will come next summer… that will announce the release of the game. Supposedly. Maybe. We’ll see. But by this time, BioWare is something of a laughing stock of their own fandom. Reactions to the video released with a pretty map graphic and a few rendered locations were, from what I personally observed, mostly sardonic in nature. People have commented on the vapourware nature of the game, and like all vapourware, that leads to disintegrating trust.

Despite all this, people like Mary Kirby, (one of the veteran Dragon Age writers who was a victim of the layoffs,) said, “it’s bittersweet that Dreadwolf is my last DA game, but I still hope you all love it as much as I do,” encouraging fans to still support the game when it eventually is released. But after every misstep BioWare has taken, that’s a tough sell now. Fans are finicky, RPG fans more so than others, one could argue. We have our favourites, and many of us stick to those favourites for life over our appreciation for the artistry — but that relationship between studio and fan should go both ways. EA and BioWare has betrayed that relationship, and it will take a hell of a lot to build it back up again, now.

[This piece is also available on Medium!]

[vestaignis]

Одна из новых туристических достопримечательностей Джокьякарты — это живописный водопад Grojogan Watu Purbo.

Гроджоган Вату Пурбо — искусственный водопад с конструкцией в виде шести террасных уровней, где вода падает с высоты около 50 метров. Водопад на самом деле представляет собой плотину на ручьях Кали Красак и Кали Бебенг, берущих начало на горе Мерапи. Эта плотина была построена в 1975 году по заказу Центра речного региона в виде плотины Сабо, которая призвана действовать как лавовый карман для размещения вулканического материала и преодоления последствий изв��ржения горы Мерапи, чтобы воздействие потока лавы не наносило вреда местным жителям. 

Видя потенциальную красоту плотины Сабо и усилия по улучшению экономики деревенского сообщества, с 2017 года жители Дукух Бангунреджо начали совместную работу по строительству туристической достопримечательности Гроджоган Вату Пурбо. Эта деятельность осуществлялась непрерывно каждую неделю в течение двух лет. Благодаря инициативе и креативности местных , в конце 2019 года рукотворный водопад стал довольно популярным и начал привлекать множество туристов. Посетители могут насладиться красотой шести уровней водопада и если повезет, смогут увидеть вид на гору Мерапи. Водопад окружен тропическими лесами и скалами, что создает неповторимую атмосферу. В Grojogan Watu Purbo туристы могут сделать селфи и снять усталость, вдыхая свежий воздух и слушая шум водопада. Отдыхая на террасовых уровнях водопада посетители могут создать пирамидки из камней , поскольку поток воды не очень сильный. Так же можно принять участие в местных культурных мероприятиях в особые памятные дни, например, в классическом джатилане в честь Дня независимости Республики Индонезия.

One of the new tourist attractions in Yogyakarta is the picturesque Grojogan Watu Purbo waterfall.

Grojogan Watu Purbo is an artificial waterfall with a structure in the form of six terraced levels, where the water falls from a height of about 50 meters. The waterfall is actually a dam on the Kali Krasak and Kali Bebeng streams that originate from Mount Merapi. This dam was built in 1975 by the River Region Center as the Sabo Dam, which is designed to act as a lava pocket to accommodate volcanic material and overcome the effects of the eruption of Mount Merapi so that the impact of the lava flow does not harm the locals.

Seeing the potential beauty of the Sabo Dam and the efforts to improve the economy of the village community, since 2017, the people of Dukuh Bangunrejo began to work together to build the Grojogan Watu Purbo tourist attraction. This activity has been carried out continuously every week for two years. Thanks to the initiative and creativity of the locals, the man-made waterfall has become quite popular and has started to attract many tourists at the end of 2019. Visitors can enjoy the beauty of the six levels of the waterfall and if they are lucky, they can see the view of Mount Merapi. The waterfall is surrounded by tropical forests and rocks, which creates a unique atmosphere. At Grojogan Watu Purbo, tourists can take selfies and relieve fatigue by breathing in the fresh air and listening to the sound of the waterfall. While resting on the terraced levels of the waterfall, visitors can create pyramids of stones, since the flow of water is not very strong. You can also take part in local cultural events on special memorable days, such as the classic jatilan in honor of the Independence Day of the Republic of Indonesia.

Источник:/pikabu.ru/story/vodopad_semi_kamney_indoneziya_11140681,/www.masterplandesa.com/wisata/grojogan-watu-purbo-wisata-air-terjun-buatan-kreativitas-warga-desa/,/visitingjogja.jogjaprov. go. id/en/18177/this-is-the-beauty-of-grojogan-watu-purbo-in-yogyakarta/ /www.idntimes.com/travel/destination/mutia-zahra-4/air-terjun-grojogan-watu-purbo-c1c2?page=all, //www.klook.com/zh-CN/activity/46040-grojogan-watu-purbo-waterfall-borobudur-private-tour-yogyakarta/, /jogjakita.co.id/grojogan-watu-purbo-wisata-air-terjun-hits-di-jogja/.

[unspeakable-imagination]

Not the worst || Logan Howlett x Reader

My asks are OPEN and my matserlist is HERE

Reposts and likes are always appreciated

Just a drabble because I can't get it out of my mind. I was thinking abt this all night.

Cw: Oldman logan slander/ logan 2017 slander, hyping up worst logan hype, fluffy, angst, lots of bonding, probably gonna make them fall in love now sure, cannon-typical violence, cursing

Living as Wade Wilson's favorite neighbor was something eles. You and him were best friends, commonly taking time to watch my little pony or other similarly childish cartoons when Althea was out.

You were there when we left the x-men. You were there for him when Vanessa left him, there for him when he was to lost to find a job. You were there when you helped him pick is toupee, and you were there at his birthday party when he was kidnapped.

To say that it shook you would be an understatement. You'd been through so much and it physically pained you when you realized that whatever he was gone for, you couldn't help him. And two days later, he was back. And he wasn't alone. He came with a man, a wolverine. Or as you heard in passing, the worst one.

Logan loitered around the apartment more than you'd like, given that you could no longer peacefully watch ponies either wade, otherwise a grumbling logan would throw fit and slam doors.

Eventually, you just had to pull wade to your own apartment across the hall. And then the knocks came. Every time Wade was over, without fail, Logan would interrupt your buddy time, knocking on the door to whisk wade away for their weird- platonically gay relationship.

It took some time for you to recognize that Logan was lonely, too. And soon, it became the three of you having movie nights. It was hard not to come to enjoy the presence of the clawed man, and it went from you sitting awkwardly to the side while wade would constantly fail at cuddling Logan, to you in the middle.

Until tonight. Wade wasn't going to make it to your bi-weekly movie nights anymore, to busy pining after Vanessa. She was willing to tey and mend their relationship. It broke your heart to loose your best friend, but logan was there rubbing your back, comforting you.

"Atleast we don't have to listen to him run his mouth and spoil the whole thing," he'd reason to you. "You know that he would just ruin the end for you, or tease you when you cry."

Logan was right, but you loved watching movies with them. "But it sucks, he's my friend. I mean I get it, he's gotta chase her, he loves her, but we matter, too, don't we, Lo?"

"Of course, bub. There will always be more movie nights, and even if he can't make them all, atleast you have me?" And you did. For the next three weeks, without fail, Wade would avoid you both on designated movie nights, and Logan would come to your place for them, comforting you and picking out movies.

On more than one occasion you had fallen asleep on his shoulder or lap, and plenty of times you'd even let him sleep over him not wanting to wake the angry, coked up, blind batshit Althea. You began to neglect Wade, watching him finally win over Vanessa's heart, and watching Logan slowly move into your own place, shifting out of the other crowded apartment.

As the time for tour nightly movie drew nesr, you sorted the sofand the popcorn bowl, the lights and the TV, and set up the coffee table with assortment of other snacks and drinks that would last you two through the night. Various beers and even a cigar.

Logan had just gotten home from his job and gone to shower while you set up. His shower was quick, like it usually was, and by the time he was done, you were snuggled on the sofa in a faux sherpa throw. He settled down next to you and you handed the remote to him. In the weeks that Logan had been living with you, you couldn't deny the way you began to develop feelings. He was attractive and capable, and while he seemed rough on the exterior, he was truly tender hearted and did care about your feelings.

That's what made it so hard to bring up that you knew the other, much older-looking, dead logan from your timeliness.

It was just a week after the Manchester incident when Logan and Xavier had fled to Mexico, finding you along the way. They pulled you into their group with Caliban and things took a shift in your day to day life. No longer accounting for the tracker mutant, you spent your time helping him give the professor shots and medication. You were one of the few people, one of the few humans, that had an opposite gene mutation. Instead of getting the X gene, you got something eles, something that made you invulnerable to mutant powers.

You were the perfect person to medicate the senile telepath. You were there to see far too many events unfold that traumatized you. That made you realize that Logan wasn't the person on the pedestal that everyone else thought him to be. He was a stupid drunk, hellbent on killing himself, and the only thing stopping him shifted from the professor to his daughter. And it was horrifying, the way that so many things in his life were kept so well behind closed doors. It's horrifying that the media portrayed him in such a well light, and it was dishonorable that every food company used him to poison food for all of mutant kind, and he didn't do anything to stop it.

After he died, you had found yourself at the X-mansion, being the person to relay the news to Colossus and the other surviving xmen. To show their gratitude, they let you stay there, and eventually, you met the asshole burn-victim lookalike.

Logan noticed your shift in mood, the aura around tou changing. "[Name]?" He leaned towards you and you shook your head, returning to the present. "I was asking what you were in the mood to watch?"

"I need to tell you something." It was sudden and Logan swore he felt his heart drop to his stomach. You brought you hand to your mouth, anxiously chewing on your nails as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry for keeping this from you for so long, but I knew the other logan. I knew the other you. And every time I've heard you walk about yourself being the worst logan- well, it's not true." Your eyes glossed are and you swore you'd cry. He shifted, rotating, bringing his knee up so he could face you better. Reaching to put a hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean, bub? You knew Logan?" You nodded, almost pitifully and your cheeks began to feel warm tears drip down them. He gently wiped them away. "What do you mean, though? Everybody tell me about how amazing this world wolverine was."

"They didn't see him behind closed doors, they didn't see him at the end like I did. Laura- she was just a kid. She only idolizes him because he died for her- but that doesn't make him good." You used your hand to dry some more of your tears.

"He was a peice of shit and only cared about himself until he knew he was dying. He was insistent on ending it and only found his release by getting skewered on a tree-root." Your emotions shifted from sadness to bubbling anger.

"There was an incident, when Xavier's brain began to go. I mean, a degenerative brain disease in thw worlds most powerful brain?" You paused. "He took him away, and he found Caliban and I along the way to help him. He left everybody behind, too, not just you. Maybe it's a Logan thing. It was funny, really. He was acctually planning on Leaving Caliban and I behind anyways. Saving up buy for a boat to live in the ocean where Xavier and him could just die peacefully." His face fell as he listened. "He was disgusting. Worse than you. You've proven you're a million times better. I mean- he is the reason why we have so little mutants left. Why children are pushed away into boarding schools or segregated just because they have powers."

Logan was silent as he took his time to absorb all the Information you just shoved apon him. "Wow," he breathed. "I really am a peice of shit everywhere."

"No logan, you don't understand. You, and I mean the you sitting in front of me isn't! You're amazing. You helped wade, you helped Laura leave the void. You helped me! God dammit, logan I love you. You've been nothing but amazing and so refreshing. You're somebody who acctually appreciates this life and living now. You're the best person out there."

His eyes nest buldged when you said you loved him, his heart rate picked up and by the time your final words left his lips, he swallowed them whole and kissed you. His hand on your cheek curved around the back of your neck and pulled you close, his other hand stabilizing his lean.

He pulled back just to place his forehead on yours. "Fuck, [Name], you have no idea how much a cherish your words. You've been encouraging me for so long and I've been so anxious I've taken you for granted, but I havnt. You don't understand how much you mean to me."

"I think I do, Logan. I feel the same way."

Don't get me wrong I think old man logan is attractive, but I had to look at it from a bad pov because Logan really was an ass in that. Movie was great and I'm still heavily attracted to all (even the bitchy versions) of him. Can't get over it.

[harrysfolklore]

Instagram concept with Sami miro as the face claim and she’s Harry’s stylist and they eventually start dating

HERE !! i loved this concept i hope you like it <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by sza, harry_lambert and 55,927 others

yourinstagram starting the job of my dreams this week 🥺

view all 5,098 comments

yourfriend SO PROUD OF YOU !!

jefezoff Welcome to the team 🤘🏻

harry_lambert Couldn’t think of a better person to take my place, you’ll do amazing darling ❤️

↳ yourinstagram i love you 🤍

chiaraferragni 💖💖

fashionfan I love all of your projects! I’m excited to see what’s coming

madisonbeer good luck wifey

liked by yourinstagram, jefezoff and 189,637 others

harry_lambert Goodbyes are bittersweet ❤️ I had the best time dressing my angel sue @harrystyles for half a decade. H, you will always be my #1, and you’re in good hands @yourinstagram ❤️

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harryfan1 NOOOO LAMBERT :(

jefezoff 🥺🥺🥺

harryfan2 we’re going to miss youuu

harrystyles Thank your everything, Lamby ❤️

↳ harryfan1 ilysm

yourinstagram you’re always going to be the 🐐🐐 thank you for this opportunity 🤍 and thank you to the lovely harry fans for being so nice already, i promise to give you the looks you want

↳ harryfan2 wtf i already love her

↳ harryfan3 maybe lambert leaving is not a bad thing

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 7,098 others

harryontour Harry’s new stylist is YN, a designer, fashion blogger and stylist who has worked with celebrities like SZA, Madison Beer, Jacob Elordi, Bella Hadid and more !

Fun fact: She designed this jumpsuit harry wore back in 2017 for HS1 promo

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harryfan1 she’s super talented i love her

harryfan2 she’s also so sweet and nice

harryfan3 we love a successful woman on harry’s team. those outfits are going to slay

yourinstagram Thank you guys 🤍🤍

↳ harryfan2 SEE she’s super sweet

liked by harrystyles, jennierubyjane and 102,389 others

yourinstagram some fun facts about me:

i'm a scorpio

my favorite one direction song is stockholm syndrome

i prefer tea over coffee

love on tour starts tomorrow !!!!! 😳😳

view all 10,837 coments

harryfan1 she's so cool

harryfan2 bestie let harry go shirtless on stage tomorrow

↳ yourinstagram your wish = my command

↳ harryfan3 YEEEESS

harrystyles Stockholm Syndrome. Great bop.

↳ harryfan1 harry styles what are you up to

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harryupdates HARRY IS PERFORMING STOCKHOLM SYNDROME RN !!!!

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harryfan1 OMFGGGGGG

harryfan2 AHHHHH MY FAVE

harryfan3 SO RANDOM BUT IM NOT COMPLAINING

harryfan4 THANK YOU TO WHOEVER MADE THIS POSSIBLE

YN AND HARRY VIA TWITTER

//

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Horsens I. May, 2023.

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harryfan1 AHHHH

harris_reed little boy blue 💙

harryfan2 MY BABYYYYYY

yourinstagram nice outfit 🕺❤️

↳ harrystyles Thanks, the girl who put it together for me is pretty dope x

↳ harryfan1 HUUUUHHHH

↳ harryfan2 us he flirting?

harryfan3 he missed the stage so much

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 7,039 others

harryupdates “We have a new band member with us, please welcome Madi Diaz to the stage! We also have someone new backstage, someone who gets me looking all fabulous every night, give it up for my new stylist, YN!" - Harry in Horsens tonight !

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harryfan1 AWEEE

harryfan2 yn is the coolest

harryfan3 LOVE THEM

harryfan4 the video of yn's reaction was so cuuuteeee

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yourinstagram FIRST STOP OF LOVE ON TOUR DONE !!! thank uuuu for all the love on h's outfits, putting them together for each night has been so far the coolest thing i've ever done as a job, see you soon munich 🤍🕺

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harryfan1 SLAYYYYY

sza Congrats ❤❤

harryfan2 MORE OUTFITS WITH HITTIES PLEASE

harrystyles Who's Harry Lambert anyway, EW?

↳ harryfan3 WTFFFFF

↳ harry_lambert Hey!

↳ yourinstagram not you quoting taylor swift please

liked by lizzobeeating, yourinstagram and 3,155,703 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Horsens II. May, 2023.

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harryfan1 BABYYYYY

annetwist Love love ❤❤

mtv me after totally wrecking the office bathroom

harryfan2 i can't wait for my show

yourinstagram you people don't knoe this but ____ was playing in the background

↳ harrystyles That's a special bop x

↳ harryfan2 he's obsessed with the word bop i swear

FANS VIA TWITTER

//

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 9,376 others

harryupdate HARRY ON STAGE IN COVENTRY TONIGHT !!! YN UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT LOOK AT THE HITTIES !!

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harryfan1 OMFGGGGG

harryfan2 THIS IS OBSCENE

harryfan3 LONG LIVE YN BEST STYLIST

yourinstagram glad you liked it besties, also 'hitties' might be my favorite new word

↳ harryfan1 SLAAAAY

liked by alexademie, harrystyles and 201,109 others

yourinstagram snap from the other day !! also spoiler alert: the theme for edinburgh night one will be donus ily harries

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harryfan1 she's so gorgeous

harryfan2 is this from their date? 👀

jennierubyjane ❤

harrystyles Decent photo x

↳ yourinstagram credits to harry styles i guess 🙄

↳ harryfan2 OHH SO IT IS FROM THEIR DATE

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 7,782 others

harryupdates Harry playing golf today in Scotland !

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harryfan1 BABYYYY

harryfan2 such a slay

harryfan3 why do i feel like im staring at boyfriendrry rn

harryfan4 I LOVE HIM

TEXT BETWEEN HARRY AND YN

//

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 8,083 others

harryupdates Harry having dinner tonight !

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harryfan1 that jacket is soooo iconic

harryfan2 BUUUBBB

harryfan3 HES IN ANOTHER DATE WITH YN BYEEEE

↳ harryfan1 how do u know

↳ harryfan4 she posted a story with the same background

liked by harryupdates, harryfan1 and 10,739 others

harryontour "The hitties are out tonight! YN taught me that word !" Harry on stage on Edinburgh tonight !

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harryfan1 OMFGGGG

harryfan2 so yn teaches him words now 😵

harryfan3 they're definetely dating lmaooo boyfriendrry is HERE

harryfan4 MY BABY

liked by lizzobeeating, yourinstagram and 1,532,672 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Edinburg II. May, 2023.

view all 26,145 comments

harryfan1 BABYYYY

harris_reed Little shooting star 💫

harryfan2 this outfit was 10/10

annetwist ❤️

yourinstagram damn your stylist has such a good taste

↳ harrystyles Bet x

↳ harryfan3 STOP FLIRTING IN FRONT OF US

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @waitingroomharry @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @peterparker1sgf

[lemoncrushh]

Stones T-Shirt

Summary: Commenting on Harry's Rolling Stones shirt at a party leads to going to a concert with him.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1200

A/N: A silly little blurb written in 2017. Originally an oc, edited to be a reader fic.

You'd commented on his Stones t-shirt at a party.

"Have you ever seen them?" he asked you an hour later when you were in the kitchen making a drink.

"Who?" you made a face, completely forgetting about your previous encounter.

Harry laughed, pointing at his shirt. "The Rolling Stones."

"Oh. No," you shook your head. "Never got to."

"Mmm, you should. Everyone needs to see them at least once."

"Well...next time I have an extra hundred or so burning a hole in my pocket, I'll buy a ticket."

"Hey Y/N, are you making me one of those?" your best friend Sheila asked as she entered in the kitchen.

"What am I, designated bartender?" you scoffed.

"Of course! Now hook me up!"

You shook your head as you began to mix her drink, just like you both knew you would. As you poured the liquor into the glass, Harry leaned against the counter.

"They're coming to town next week," he commented. "We should go."

You gave him the eye while you squeezed a slice of lime into Sheila's drink. For a second you thought you'd misheard him.

"We should?"

"Yeah," he smirked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You bit your lip as you handed Sheila her glass. "I'll think about it."

Sipping through her straw, Sheila nodded her head at you. You knew what she was trying to say, but you didn't care.

"Hmm," Harry sounded. "Well, while you think about it...maybe you can make me one of those?"

You glared at him, his cocky expression quickly making your defenses crumble. You chuckled and grabbed a fresh glass. "Sure."

Just then three more people walked in, catching you making Harry's cocktail.

"Yeah, I'll take one too, Y/N!" exclaimed Jordan.

"Me too!"

"Me three!"

"What the hell, who made me bartender?" you argued.

"Harry," Sheila winked.

"But you asked for a drink first," you pointed at her.

"So. He followed you in here first."

You looked at Harry whose mouth grew into a smile. You laughed as you handed him his glass and began making three more. By the time you passed them out to your customers, your own cocktail was watered down. Frowning, you took a sip anyway.

"So did you think about it?" asked Harry, placing his empty glass on the counter.

"Sorry?"

"The Stones concert."

"Oh. Um..."

As if it were a sign, "Start Me Up" began to play from the speakers in the next room. Harry and you both froze.

"Looks like they're playing our song," he chuckled.

"Oh for fucks sake, go out with him!" shouted Sheila.

You shook your head as the color rose to your cheeks. "Alright."

"You won't regret it," beamed Harry. "Everyone needs to see the Stones."

You both stood outside the outdoor venue watching the sun set. You could hear the drum beat of the opening band playing inside as the excitement began to fill your veins.

"So when should we go in?" you asked Harry.

"After sundown," he replied. "That's the best time. Not as many people trying to get in."

You nodded, a little disappointed you'd be missing the opening act, but then again you had no clue who they were anyway. Finally, when the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, Harry grabbed your hand.

"C'mon," he whispered. "This way."

You smiled and followed him up a ramp. You zig zagged through a maze of several barriers until you reached a fence.

"What are we doing?" you glared at him, confused.

"Waiting for the all clear," Harry muttered.

"Wait...what?"

He squeezed your hand and looked at you timidly. "I don't actually have tickets," he admitted.

"What? We're...we're sneaking in?"

"Yeah."

Releasing your hand from his, you felt your stomach plummet to your knees. "Have you lost your fucking mind?!" you shouted.

"Shh!"

"No, I won't shh! I'm out of here!"

"Y/N! Wait!" he grabbed your hand again just as you rounded the corner. "Please."

"You're insane," you grumbled.

"Trust me. We can do this. I've done it before."

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better!" you threw up your hand.

Taking your other hand, Harry looked you in the eye. "Please."

With a defeated sigh, you followed him back to the fence. You watched as Harry carefully climbed over it, landing softly on the grass.

"C'mon," he beckoned.

With hesitation and a sour feeling in your gut, you reached up and grabbed the metal fence, sticking your shoe inside a hole to pull yourself up. When you reached the top, however, you got scared.

"I can't," you shook your head.

"Sure you can," said Harry, his arms out. "I'm right here. I'll catch you so you won't hit the ground."

"It's not that...I don't..."

"Swing your leg over."

Swallowing hard, you did as he said and you were able to climb post of the way down until he caught you in his arms.

"See?" he breathed in your ear. "We're okay."

Once again, you smiled at his use of the word "we".

"This way."

Your hand in his, you ran to another nearby barricade that wasn't as difficult to climb over. And that was when you saw the stage.

"Oh wow," you mouthed.

"Great innit?" Harry smiled.

You weren't close, in fact you were in the very back of the venue, behind the crowd that sat on the lawn. But somehow the thrill of it all made it worth it. Suddenly the lights went out and the audience went wild.

"Let's go over here," Harry gestured to the right and you weaved through several people until you stopped at an empty space between them.

You watched Mick Jagger strut across the stage in all his glory. Your stomach did a few flips until you found yourself cheering with the rest of the crowd. By the third or fourth song, you and Harry were dancing.

"This is so awesome!" you screamed at him as he grinned from ear to ear.

"Glad you came with me?" he leaned against you as the band went into "Angie".

"Glad? I could kiss you right now!"

You realized what you'd said the moment the last word dropped from your lips. Harry's smile faltered only slightly as his eyes shifted between your eyes and your mouth. Then tilting his head, he kissed you.

You weren't sure if it was the adrenaline still zipping through you from before, or just the mere sensation of his lips on yours, but that kiss was electric. You wound your arms around Harry's neck as he pulled you closer, your kiss deepening. You heard Mick asking "where will it lead us from here," and you found yourself wondering the same thing.

By the time the concert was over, you were wiping your cheeks of tears of joy.

"You okay?" Harry asked as he took your hand and you walked out of the venue with everybody else.

"Yeah," you nodded. "Yeah, more than okay. Thanks for that."

"Like I said, everyone should see them at least once."

"That's not what I mean."

Harry stopped and turned to look at you with question in his eyes.

"Thank you..." you said, "for the best night of my life."

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[lil-tachyon]

For the last couple weeks I've been drawing logos / designs for local-ish (mostly NJ, some PA and NY) bands as warmups in the morning. Here's what I've come up with! Massive post below the break explaining each logo + where to find each band and listen to their music.

Teenage Halloween- a staple of New Jersey basements for probably about a decade now and finally getting wider recognition in the last couple years. Pop punk / power pop with a killer horn section. First time I saw them was in New Brunswick playing with Walter Etc. and Blowout. They played a killer cover "Build Me Up Buttercup" and my wife got a black eye in the pit. Recommended tracks: "Brain Song," "666," "Clarity." Their first EP is on a separate bandcamp page btw, check it out here it's great.

Sweet Pill - They will call themselves a Philly band but in my heart they'll always be from Glassboro. Definitely one of the more recognizable names on this list. Emo revival - early stuff is more twinkly, more recent stuff is heavier. All of it's great. Recommended tracks "Nephew," "High Hopes."

Shark Club - Central Jersey's finest. I'm very biased because I actually know these dudes and they did the music for my wedding. Some of the best pop punk you'll hear and the nicest people you'll meet. Recommended tracks: "Game Theory," "Bill Murray," "Heavens to Betsy."

Rest Ashore - My favorite band for the last (oh God I'm old now) eight years. From gut-wrenching emo ballads to virtuoso math-rock instrumentals they do it all. One time I got to sing vocals on "Lucy's Theme" at a house show- thank you Erica! Recommended tracks: "Hjarta," "Chinese Opera," "Devotion," "Soyuz Sweetheart." Too many bangers to name honestly, just deep dive their discography.

Morus Alba - First band I ever went to see at a house show and still one of my absolute favorites. Their music feels like the bridge between the best pitchfork, /mu/ alt rock bands and high energy basement emo. I mean that as a compliment and I hope it comes off as one lol. I should note that since 2019 Morus Alba has morphed from a band into an experimental hip-hop project so later releases sound radically different and basically disconnected from the earlier stuff. Also my favorite release from them, Live at Isabelle's, has been scrubbed from the internet but if you'd like the files just email me. Recommended tracks: "Skyscraper," "Human Resources," "The Goodnight Waltz."

Have a Good Season - another Jersey mainstay that's still going strong. Emo revival in their earlier releases, now with more 70s power pop influences in their newer stuff. See them live, they put on a fantastic show and usually play some great covers in addition to their original music. HaGS guys if you're reading this, please put your version of "Since You've Been Gone" online, I'm begging you. Recommended tracks: "Joseph / Shel Silverstein," (you have to listen to them together for the drop, so good) , "Gum, "Gleaux / Scab." Also, frontman Nic Palermo interviewed me once.

Elephant Jake - If you see any of these bands live make it EJ, they put on such a damn good show. Electrifying indie punk from the Empire State. Recommended tracks: "F.D.C." "Sarah Moyer," "Goodness to Honest," and of course you gotta learn "Sebastien Bauer" for the singalongs.

Blind Lion - Sadly one of the greats that we lost along the way. Defunct since about 2017. I only got to see them once but it was a great performance. Alongside their own stuff they played some killer covers of "Bad Moon Rising" and "Moonage Daydream." I had trouble doing a logo design for them because I actually really like the composition, if not the "Ed Hardy-ness," of their existing logo so what you see here are two separate attempts, neither of which feels entirely satisfying to me. Frontperson Larry Flately currently plays in Nematode and also handled production of Bradley Gardens joke hiphop group The Breakfast Boiz under the moniker "DJ Ova EZ." Recommended tracks: "Brumous," "Dinner."

Fighting Seasons - A band that I sadly found out about too late (via a sticker under the bridge in my town which has since been painted over). 2010s pop punk that packs a helluva punch, especially considering that I'm pretty sure the members were high schoolers for most of the band's existence. I think some members may have gone on to form Sawce (FFO Chon, Polyphia, that type of music) but I can't remember where I read/heard that so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Recommended tracks: "Fighting Seasons," "Oil on Canvas"

Milkmen- Another fallen giant, officially disbanded in 2019. Like Morus Alba, they played the very first house show I attended and their few releases remain on constant rotation in my home. Used to put on a great show and were one of the bands I always thought would make it big until suddenly they weren't around anymore. Frontman Ben Thieberger contributed guitar and vocals to Covid quarantine project Kin if you're looking for a bit of an extra fix but beyond that I don't know what these guys are up to these days, sadly. Recommended tracks: "Ramus," "Johnny Dangerously," "how sieves catch breeze," "K.O.T.H."

Stand and Wave - New York (now Philly) pop punkers delivering instant dopamine hits with every track. Another great live act, see them with EJ if you can! They often play shows together. Recommended tracks: "Convos," "Mrs. Dash," "Splashton Kutcher," "Michael Collins."

My Chemical Romance - You know who they are. While I was drawing all these other logos I ran a poll on Patreon to decide which famous New Jersey band should also be graced with a drawing from me. MCR won the poll by a hefty margin so unfortunately you won't get to see me do an illegible black metal take on Hoboken's Yo La Tengo. I ended up doing two versions: the one with the halo is the first, the one with the bats was the second. I tried to do something kind of thin and elegant with the first one and I don't think it's terrible but I also wasn't quite satisfied with it. For the 2nd attempt I tried to lean into the kind of pulpy, almost horror punk aesthetic of early MCR and I think that one looks better even if it's less original.

Anyway if you took the time to read through all this, thank you very much! And please support these bands! Also If any of the links aren't working please let me know.

-Logan