#thank you so much for another year

[ionomycin]

My favorite pieces this year

[tzarrz]

i listen to fog lake too much

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

With the end of season two comes a second redraw!

[Nov 2022] [June 2023] [June 2024]

[canisalbus]

✦ 2023 summary of art ✦

[kimtaegis]

three superheroes, anpanman! for @sopekooks ♡

cr. jung-koook

[prinsomnia]

in her head ✷ wishing everyone a graceful 2023!

[avenoirn]

my store is back open again until feb 3! with a little surprise 🥰 (prints and other merch are available as well!) 💐

🩵 international / locals (🇮🇩) 🩵

shares are greatly appreciated! thank you for looking 💝

[calmparticles]

Happy new year 1997! 🎉🍾

I'm meaning. 2023.9999999999999999999!!!!!!! 🎉🍾

[thefrogdalorian]

I think on this fine Saturday afternoon it's a good opportunity to take a breather and remember that there are really no ethical paparazzi pictures. Every single one is inherently exploitative.

Just because photos were taken on a movie set, when someone is 'working,' does not make the practice any less invasive and creepy. Imagine just going about your day, doing your job and having some weirdo snapping pictures of you to sell without your consent for others to endlessly repost online.

There are thousands of pictures of your favourite actor online already. Plenty taken with his knowledge and consent. I'd really like to see more of them on my dash, rather than the creeper shots.

And don't get me started how disseminating these pictures directly leads to people going to said sets. What starts off as admiring how good someone looks has real world implications.

No, hanging around a movie set and disrupting people doing their jobs is not harmless fun or a way to show your appreciation.

If you hang around a movie set, you are a stalker.

Don't tell me that it's okay to take your online admiration for someone offline. You may admire him but he does not, and will never, personally know you. He will never be your friend/boyfriend/daddy. He is a stranger.

The only way meeting your favourite actor is going to happen is at a convention or maaaaaybe a movie premiere if you're incredibly fortunate. You know, places they appear specifically to meet fans (or not in the case of premieres, where the purpose is to promote a movie. Which is also completely understandable if actors don't stop. You are not owed an interaction).

Of course, you cannot help it if you randomly run into someone you admire in the wild. Even then, consider that they probably won't be all too thrilled to be approached in public by a complete stranger. It's up to you to gauge the situation, but remember there is a person at the heart of all of this.

Boundaries and respect are a kindness which deserves to be extended to each and every human being regardless of their looks/talent/fame/wealth.

Fandoms blur those lines a little too often for my liking and I think just scrutinising what you're interacting with, or what behaviour you could be possibly falling down that slippery slope towards is nice to do every once in a while.

I mean no malice with this post and it is not directed at anyone in particular. It's something I cannot help but feel strongly about because I've seen this destructive cycle time and again in fandoms over the years. It's not healthy and it makes us all a little bit more disconnected from our humanity for it...

[jinstronaut]

happy new year, army!

another year with armyblr and another year of things i am thankful for uwu while i'm busier than usual and cannot make the things i used to make all the time, i'm still so grateful for having this creative outlet and having a place to share the love i have for these seven boys with people who love them just as much. you're all so special to me!!!! i want to recognize some of the people who've been extra kind to me and have made my journey on this blog as miraculous has it has been -- however, i cannot state enough that anyone who's ever interacted with my blog is so, so special and important to me. the work i do isn't just for myself, it's for everyone. i'm so glad to share my creations with anyone who wants to receive them!!! ♥

some of my mutuals who have been nothing but kind and supportive of the things that i manage to do while working my crazy work weeks -- i can and would move mountains for you all. you are so, so special to me and i love you so endlessly.

@jiniekook | @seokljin | @cordiallyfuturedwight | @aprylynn | @rjshope | @raplinenthusiasts | @starcatching | @heybaetae | @kimtaegis | @yooboobies | @bisexualrapline | @userhobi | @userjiminie | @sugaftrm | @jjwannie | @sevencoloredstar | @livelocks | @jkvjimin | @taegularities | @thv-hyung | @sopekooks | @kithtaehyung | @kth1 | @jimin-gaon | @jeonjcngkook | @ncytiri | @eoieopda | @cosmicdreamgrl

(part 2 coming in a reblog bc of tumblr's silly limits!!!)

[reddoll123]

Bass Guitar Tunin'~

[shuchelle]

Art Fight 2024 Attacks!

Taylor for GalacticSabC ( @galacticsabc )

Ghost for Veneer

Misty for YaGirlMisty ( @yagirlmistyyt )

William for Myorinn ( @myorinn )

[lurking-loaf]

Guess who just turned a year older? (👉🐐)

[singsweetmelodies]

Piarles Winter Fic Exchange 2023/24 - The Final Round-Up

AO3 Collection Link

After three months of build-up and two weeks of spectacular fic reveals, the Piarles Winter Fic Exchange 2023/24 has finally drawn to its close 💙 Today, it is my honour and pleasure to share with you the results of all of our efforts: an astounding 478 616 words written over the course of twenty-eight brand-new Piarles fics. 🎉

We want to start by saying a MASSIVE thank you to all our incredible creators. You are all so wonderful and so so talented - it has been a delight and a privilege to spend the last few months with you. To laugh with you and to create with you and to share the Piarles joy with you. You are all phenomenal, and we feel so lucky that you chose to spend this time with us. ❤️

I also want to take this opportunity to say a personal thank you to my amazing mod team: @boxboxbrioche, @welightitup, @duquesademiel, @wolfiemcwolferson and @river-ocean. Moderating this exchange with you has been a slightly crazy rollercoaster ride, but I couldn't have asked for better people by my side throughout it. Thank you all, for everything!!

Below the cut we have the final round-up of all our 2023/24 Piarles Winter Fic Exchange gift fics. You are in for a real treat - enjoy!!! And don't forget to show the authors some love in the form of kudos, comments, bookmarks and tumblr reblogs 💘

Thank you all so much again.

Love and kisses,

Katie, Briony, Tia, Sol, Logan & River ❤️💙

you and me were raised in the same part of town by @wolfiemcwolferson | rated M | 11.6k words | tumblr post here

A story of two best friends told through the years in the setting of Charles' childhood treehouse.

damage, destruction by @pinkierre | rated T | 6.7k words | tumblr post here

Pierre Gasly doesn’t win the 2016 GP2 title, and thus he stays in the category for another year with Prema. He’s joined for the 2017 F2 season by his long time best friend and fresh GP3 champion Charles Leclerc. What starts as a dream come true, quickly turns into a nightmare. Fast forward 8 years later and they’re teammates again. At Ferrari F1 team. However this time, they hate each other. How will they cope?

Chasing What’s on the Other Side by @espithewarlock | rated E | 15.8k words | tumblr post here

A Mafia AU where Pierre is immediately obsessed with Charles, the newly-introduced romantic partner of his biggest rival, Carlos. He begins dangerously pursuing Charles, they fall into bed together, and his obsession only gets more real the more he learns about Charles’ history. Meanwhile, Pierre is also trying to keep his business running and figure out exactly what his rivals are plotting. There’s something simmering, and he does not like having a target on his back.

model behaviour by @your-littlesecret | rated T | 8k words

Charles isn't sure what he should be doing here - he is not proud to admit he completely zoned out as Camille was explaining - but the gorgeous guy is just standing there and Charles says fuck it and walks to him, extending a hand. "Hi" "Hello. I am Pierre." His smile is almost blinding and Charles feels like he's never seen someone as beautiful in his whole life - which is very fitting, considering he is a model.

change my mind by @chaesonghwas | rated M | 31.8k words | tumblr post here

When Lance drags him to a Drama Club meeting, Pierre doesn't expect to stay for long, but he meets Charles, brother to one of his fraternity's new pledges, and he decide to give it a chance. After all, Charles seems interested in him too - what could go wrong?

Stop the World I Wanna Get Off With You by @crimsonicarus | rated T | 2k words

It was easy with Charles, talking, spending time, being silent. It felt natural, like breathing. Laughing at his awful jokes came from his mouth effortlessly, like another mother tongue.

five january seconds by @fenesacha | rated E | 8.9k words

Charles' phone is on the counter between them, and Pierre reaches out to tap the screen, waking the device up. He spares one second to look at Charles’ new background, a photo of the two of them in their Christmas jumpers, before he glances at the date. There, not changing no matter how many times he blinks: Tuesday, 2 January. What the fuck.

falling Inn love (five years later) by @gaslybottoms | rated T | 17.5k words 

“American style holiday inn,” Lando reads from the description, squinting at the small font on the screen. “Family owned and run for the last three generations, the All Pine Inn is located deep in the heart of the South Downs, with picturesque views over the rolling hills of the local area. A step back from city life, the local village is a peaceful respite away from the busy day to day. See Charles, it seems perfect." OR Charles takes a trip to the country for the Christmas holidays, and rekindles an old almost romance along the way.

All The Pebbles Along The Way by @shankyspork | rated M | 17k words

Centering around friendship and grief, this fic takes the slow road through life and its meaningful moments, hoping to bring you to the conclusion that belonging is something innate.

all I ever wanted by @golden-fairylights | Not Rated | 8.4k words

When Charles received the email that Prince Pierre would attend his vernissage, he didn't know that by the end of the night, he would have found his soulmate.

Anything you can do, I can do better by @whatdidwejustdo | rated T | 2k words

In which Pierre and Charles are insufferably competitive mechanics for rival F1 teams (Red Bull vs Ferrari) and their friends (Carlos, Alex, and Yuki) suffer. Endless snark, friendship, and references to decades of F1 lore. Or:  "Well.” Pierre’s eyes were sharp and blue. "Have you ever re-assembled Max Verstappen's car in twenty minutes when it was supposed to take forty, and watched him put together a hot lap in the dying seconds of Q2 to make it into Q3 and take pole?" 

let's be what we are by @hourcat | rated E | 46.1k words | tumblr post here

Some weekends go better than others, and the only time Charles sees his best friend is at the post-race afterparties that the bigger teams throw. They’ll clink bottles of gross tasting beer and chat with one of the other drivers relegated off to the side this season, and it feels like they’re the karting kids again. Some weekends, though, Pierre is draped along Charles’ back, all but welded together after an early spin-out ended his day, and Pierre will give him what he needs—what they need. (or: pierre, charles, and the consequences of a lifetime of touch.)

Can I just be in my head with you? by @chipsandnuggets | rated T | 7k words

"Pierrot,” he mumbles without thinking, while he separates for a moment from Pierre, but still keeps some closeness. “Can I have you? At least in my head? Can I have you like this, every time I want, in my head?”  5 times Pierre and Charles desire something plus one they finally do something about it.

Le Cheval Cabré by @moonlight0starlighte | rated G | 24.3k words

Charles, a tortured Michelin star chef, returns home for his father’s passing and discovers the family restaurant has been left to him. Though his grief feels stifling at times, Pierre, his oldest friend, is the light that guides him through it all.

Job 37:6 by @mysticalbreadcollective | rated E | 8.3k words 

Maybe he can pass it off as a drunken hookup. A one-time thing. They can both forget it ever happened and move on. Pierre doesn’t need to remember Charles whining and panting beneath him. He can bury it down with the piece of his heart that Charles owns always.

take my hand (put yours over my heart) by @duquesademiel | rated T | 37.7k words | tumblr post here

Pierre Gasly has been declared Public Enemy Number One after breaking Charles’ best friend’s heart. Which, honestly, makes working in their charity work together just a little bit too awkward. A Christmas box, a lot of charity work, football matches and flower crowns might change Pierre’s status in Charles’ books - with a little dash of fake dating, of course.

hearts in the byline by @ilspredestinato | rated M | 25.6k words | tumblr post here

“You know,” Frédéric’s hands are crossed in front of him, fingertips tightening after every pause, “there is only one thing that brings stability to a Kingdom without it being a marriage.” Charles draws in a sharp breath—he knows, nodding almost imperceptibly once Frédéric falls into a hesitant silence. A courtship.

The Defenders by @justahappycloud | rated G | 30k words | tumblr post here

You showed me colours I can't see with anyone else by @radiocheck | rated E | 9.5k words | tumblr post here

Metropolis, a city for all kinds of people: good people, bad people, and people with special abilities. Pierre, alias Blue Arrow, considers himself a special person. With the ability to fly like a bird and bend the toughest of materials at his will, he has decided to use these gifts to protect the city he loves. But what happens when a new threat arises that could destroy everything he'd ever loved? To prevent this, Pierre joins a group of other three heroes and an unlikely ally so that they can maybe, hopefully, save Metropolis from the claws of this new powerful villain.

“I really thought you didn’t like me, you know,” Pierre muses. “You were always so… defensive.” Charles smiles thoughtfully. There are small dimples in his cheeks and his hair falls softly over his forehead as he glances down at the table before replying. “It was never that. I think I was afraid I would like you too much, if I let myself.” In which Pierre falls for his roommate's best friend, Lando is never where he's supposed to be, and Charles is a dream in technicolour.

show me who made you walk all the way here by @yukierres | rated M | 36.5k words | tumblr post here

Pierre is being blackmailed by a former lover into coming out, but risks losing his seat at Ferrari if he does. Charles is a prince who is forbidden from coming out until he has a long-term partner. The solution seems so obvious. Pretending shouldn't be that hard, right? Right?

still waking every morning (but it's not with you) by @river-ocean | rated T | 6.5k words

Charles loves being an actor. It’s what he has always felt was born to do. But he hates that it means that he has to spend so many days of the year away from the people he loves the most. He hates that even though he technically lives with his boyfriend, he is still in a de facto long-distance relationship most of the time.

anything, everything by @leclercenjoyer | rated E | 5.8k words | tumblr post here 

Pierre and Charles go on a ski trip together, and things don't exactly go as planned. (Or do they?)

They Will Never Know by @effervescentdragon | rated M | 35.3k words | tumblr post here

Most stories are about blood. This story is not an exception. Charles disappeared. As for Pierre, well. Pierre had a very big secret.

Point Non Plus by @boxboxbrioche | rated E | 22.7k words | tumblr post here

brought to Point Non Plus idiom, commonly used in the Regency era 1. to be brought to a situation with no other options. 2. to baffle or confuse someone to the point that they have nothing to say. or: with his reputation in ruins and his options limited, Charles receives an offer from Lord Pierre Gasly that he simply cannot refuse.

like a heart made of dynamite by @vicsy | rated E | 31k words

Maybe all these years they were coming towards each other like a car crash in slow motion. Charles just had to wait for the brakes to fail.

and i long for you to appear by @singsweetmelodies / 17.5k | rated T | tumblr post here

When now-famous actor Pierre Gasly gets himself into a bit of PR trouble, it's up to his childhood best friend to step in and save the day. Thankfully, Charles is an expert public relations manager... the only question is if he'll be able to stop his feelings getting in the way when he finally sees Pierre again after all these years.

hold me in this wild, wild world by @fenesacha & @gaslybottoms | rated T | 2k words

Cross-country skiing isn't Pierre's forte. While he managed to stay upright during their earlier outing, it's done little to shake off his aversion to the sport that Charles seems to love so much - or, rather, his aversion to winter as a whole.

[heartvisor]

[misericorsalvator]

An Epitaph

Henry didn't know where he was. It was cold, freezing, but that was all he could tell, from the sharp chill that tore through his damp clothes, to the frigid air that felt like icicles in his lungs when he breathed. Even if he was someplace familiar, it would have been impossible to tell through the veil of rime in the air, the thick hoar that coated the ground. But wherever he was, he had to find shelter. soon, before his limbs grew any number that they already were and he lost the three fingers he had left on his right hand to frostbite. It took a good deal of walking, trudging through the snow, before he found something resembling sanctuary. A rocky hovel dug deep into a mountainside he hadn't even noticed was there. The crooked mountaintop loomed far overhead like a wind-swept pine tree, towering over the barren expanse and shielding the small patch of land near the cave's entrance from the worst of the snowfall. It was a narrow fit, the opening more narrow than a coffin, but it opened up into a wide chamber beyond, dark, lit only by the little light reflecting on the snow outside.

Panic stabbed at him suddenly. That chamber felt familiar, though he couldn't recall from where. The rockface of the walls was smooth, man-made, and the stalactites hanging from the domed ceiling above were unnatural, all the same length, jagged and sharpened to fine points. But he had no time to waste on the unnerving interior. The weather outside was getting worse, the wind howling like wolves on a hunt, and soon his shelter would be just as cold and dangerous as the outside. He had to think, find a way to keep the warmth in. Henry returned to the entrance. He twisted around in the narrow space as best he could and began piling up snow with his numb hands, stacking it, pressing it into shape, mouthing breathless curses to himself, until he had built a solid wall halfway up to his neck. It should last. He didn't know for how long, but at least for now, until he could catch his breath. It had to last.

Henry slumped against the wall of the cave. The barrier he had built offered some protection, but he could still feel the cold creeping in, seeping through the gaps and cracks in the snow. A damp chill gnawed at his bones, freezing the air in his lungs. He knew he had to keep moving, to do something, anything, to stay warm and awake. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep. Not here. Not now. But his limbs were leaden and his body creaked in protest with every movement. His teeth chattered as he tried to think, tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The harder he tried, however, the more his thoughts seemed to slip away, like sand through his fingers. Panic clawed at his chest once more as he looked around the cavern. The walls seemed to close in, the smooth stone shimmering with a thin layer of rime frost. The ceiling above with the unnaturally sharp stalactites, loomed over him like a mouth full of fangs. He had to get out.

Henry pushed himself off the wall, his legs shaking beneath him. The snow was piling up faster now, further in through the entrance than the wall he had built, and he frantically began to shovel it away with his hands, trying to clear a path through the narrow gap. He shovelled harder, floundered, grappled til his fingers were too numb to move, but for every tiny hopeful opening he made, more snow took its place, as if the storm outside was determined to bury him alive. The cold was unbearable now, seeping into his very soul. Outside, the wind roared, a feral sound that echoed through the cavern and made the air thick with cold. Each breath now was a knife to the chest, each inhale burning his lungs. The snow crawled closer, blocking the entrance fully, and began to cover the cave floor inch by painful inch, forcing the hunter back step by painful step.

Henry's mind was reeling. He stumbled further into the cave, away from the encroaching cold, the bones of his legs creaking in protest. The deeper he went, the more the walls seemed to close in on him, the smooth rock pressing down, suffocating. The quiet there was unnerving, an oppressive stillness that made him painfully aware of his own laboured breathing and the pounding of his heart. The silence of the grave. For what felt like an hour, he pushed himself forward against the stone walls, cowering under the stalactites which were now low enough to graze the top of his head. No matter how far he went, the snow followed close behind, blocking the way back. Henry's movements grew slower, more sluggish, until he could no longer outrun it, and that white frost began piling up around his boots. He felt the fight leave him, his breathing weakened, his heartbeat slowed.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it—a single snowflake, delicate and perfect, drifting down from the ceiling above. His breath caught in his throat as he watched it fall, impossibly slow, through solid rock. It glowed faintly in the dim light and Henry’s eyes followed its descent, almost hypnotized, until it landed softly on the ground. On something dark, something that wasn’t stone. He crouched down, his stiff knees cracking in protest, and wiped away the snow, his fingers brushing against a cold, unyielding surface.

A hand.

His hand.

His breath caught in his throat. He was looking at himself, at his own lifeless body, crumpled and broken, half-buried in the snow. The wounds were horrific—deep gashes and punctures that were draining the life out of him-- and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.

This wasn't real.

The snow, the cold, it was all in his head, growing blurry as his brain ran out of oxygen. And the cavern wasn’t just familiar—it was the place he was dying, right now, in the real world. The place where his body was lying, bleeding out into the cold ground, his blood darkening the stone ground.

For a third time, panic surged through him, but it was laced with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. The wind howled louder, and now Henry could make out voices, battle cries, screeching and yowling in twisted satisfaction. The snow now poured into the cave through the solid ceiling above, burying everything in its path. He wanted to claw his way out, to escape this nightmare, but his limbs wouldn’t respond. The snow was too thick, too heavy, pressing down on him from all sides. As his vision began to blur, the walls of the cave pulsed, breathing with a life of their own, in tandem with his own slowed breaths. The snow continued to fall, endlessly, burying him, until all he could see was white. And then, from the heart of the storm, he saw a figure—a tall, imposing silhouette that moved with unnatural grace, cutting through the blizzard as if it were nothing. Henry tried to focus, but his mind was slipping, the edges of his consciousness fraying like old cloth.

His final thoughts drifted to Bran. A deep guilt welled up inside him. He wouldn’t make it home for Christmas this year. He wouldn’t see his boy’s face light up when he opened his presents, wouldn’t hear his laughter echoing through the house. Regret gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. In his last moments, as the darkness closed in, Henry barely registered the sharp pain in his chest—a bite, cold and searing, as if winter itself had latched onto his heart, and his eyes froze over with unshed tears until the world faded and he breathed his last.

In a long-forgotten catacomb in Wales, as the last drop of Henry's blood soaked into the humid ground, something ancient stirred. Beneath the layers of earth and stone, within the crypt that had long been forgotten, a pair of eyes snapped open. After centuries of entombment, something awoke. The blood of the dying hunter seeped into its consciousness, filling it with the remnants of Henry's life, his memories, his regrets. And once the blood had ran dry, the ancient knight rose from his tomb, his eyes burning with a cold, unholy fire.

He tore through the killers, the blood-thirsty beasts who had chased their prey to the ancient tomb, splattering the walls with their undead blood that burnt to ash, until none were left. Then, he looked down at the broken body of the hunter who had unwittingly become his saviour. With a grim sense of purpose, the knight knelt beside Henry’s lifeless form. He whispered words in a dialect long dead, a prayer, perhaps, or a vow. Then, with a reverence reserved for fallen comrades, the knight lifted the hunter’s body and carried him deeper into the crypt, where heroes were once laid to rest, where the knight's own tomb stood, broken apart from within. The hunter was gone, his spirit entwined with the ancient knight’s own, but his legacy would live on, honoured by one of the very creatures he had once sought to destroy.

The knight sealed the tomb with a final, solemn gesture, then left the catacombs behind and stepped out into the warm summer night, into a world which had long outlived him.