eloquent prince

anonymous asked:

I love waking up to your fics, thanks so much :) :) if you’re interested, I would love to see your response to: Did you get my letter?

47. “Did you get my letter?” 



Evgeni lives a small but lucky life.

He’s lucky his mother escaped persecution and took refuge in the Crosby Kingdom when Evgeni was just a baby.

He’s lucky for the king and queen’s kindness to take the both of them in and give his mother a job as a maid to earn money.

Evgeni grew up always have enough food and warm clothes to get through the harsh winters.

When his mother died when he was seven he’s lucky the king and queen didn’t turn their backs on him and send him out into the cold.

He’s heard stories of rulers who want nothing to do with those who have nothing to offer.

Evgeni suspects it has something to do with them having a son only a year younger than him.

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Gladio’s breath is hot against the thin skin of Noctis’s throat. Noctis closes his eyes, arches his back when Gladio’s tongue flicks lightly against his neck. He lets out a soft moan and Gladio responds in kind, placing a gentle kiss on Noctis’s neck as he runs a large hand down the prince’s thin frame. The hand trails slowly down Noctis’s side, his hip, his thigh – and when it reaches his knee, Gladio tightens his grip and pulls Noctis’s leg around him. As he does, he grinds forward, pressing hard against Noctis. Noctis lets out a surprised gasp that trails into another moan.

Noctis hears a deep, rumbling laugh and he opens his eyes. Gladio is watching him, watching the prince’s reaction to the warrior’s every move. Noct rolls his eyes before saying, “Enjoying this, are you?”

The smile on Gladio’s face tells Noctis that he is, in fact, enjoying himself. Gladio leans down, grazes his teeth along Noctis’s earlobe and whispers, “Very much so.”

Noctis shudders and resists the urge to touch himself. It had been a while since they had done this. Too long, Noctis thought.

As if Gladio reads Noctis’s mind, suddenly the hand on his knee begins trailing up his leg again. It stops at his hip and tenses as Gladio grinds forward again. Noctis’s eyes close and he arches into the thrust, pushing himself harder against Gladio. Gladio tenses, his hand gripping Noctis’s hip harder for a moment. Through gritted teeth, he says, “Gods, you’re so gonna get it.”

Noctis resists the giggle bubbling in his chest. He smiles, moves his hips against Gladio’s again and taunts, “Promises, promises.”

Gladio leans up and looks down at Noctis. His expression is so damn intense that Noctis hesitates for a moment, is about to ask if everything is alright, when suddenly Gladio’s lips are on his. The kiss is brief. It takes seconds before Gladio is pulling away, trailing small kisses down the prince’s neck. In a swift motion, Gladio finally removes Noctis’s shirt and continues his trail of kisses down Noctis’s chest. He nibbles every now and then, sending a wave of pleasure through Noctis’s body every time. The trail continues down Noctis’s stomach, and when Gladio finally gets to the edge of Noctis’s pants, he looks up – a question in his eyes. Noctis breathes heavily for a moment, then slowly nods. He watches as Gladio unzips his pants and pulls them off of his body. He watches as Gladio leans down and licks up his stiff member. He watches as Gladio opens his mouth and –

And then he wakes up.

Noctis wakes up, alone in bed with a soft breeze blowing through the open window. His eyes scan the room wildly for a moment, and before disappointment can flood his body, he remembers his dream. It hadn’t been a dream last night. All of that had actually happened. The memory makes him smile and when he turns on his stomach to hide his blushing face (from who, he doesn’t know), he takes in a sharp breath. He’s hard still, very hard, and he instinctively grinds himself against the bed, desperately looking for relief. It doesn’t take long – he had been close already, apparently – and when he’s finally relieved, he gets out of bed. He cleans himself off, gets dressed, and heads out of the room to look for Gladio.

When he gets to the bottom stair, Iris is there to greet him. She steps in his way and says, “Morning, sleepyhead!”

Hiding his disappointment that Gladio is nowhere in the immediate vicinity, he shakes his head. “Morning,” he grumbles, and runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it slightly. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh,” Iris says, obviously less than enthused about Noctis’s indifference. “They’re out walking with Talcott. They went to see the sights. We should too!”

“Uhh,” Noctis starts. Ever the eloquent prince. “Sure. Why not?” At least it’ll be a chance to look for Gladio.

“Great! I’ll show you around!”

She turns and heads out of the building. Noctis had already seen most of Lestallum when they had first arrived. They had needed to stock up on ingredients for Ignis and health reagents for the rest of the party. Compared to Insomnia, Lestallum wasn’t that large of a city, so they had covered most of it within the evening.

The walk with Iris is less than exciting. Noctis had always liked Iris and regarded her well, but lately something had seemed..off. She had started avoiding him a few months before he had left the capital. When they did speak, she always seemed distracted, or quiet. Since Noctis had a hard time with conversation anyway, their talks had been very minimal.

Now, though, she won’t stop talking. She keeps rambling on and on about the marketplace and the different shops as they head through. When they get to the refinery, she tells him all about it and how only women work there. He encourages her and she smiles, then she begins leading him to the outlook. As they walk, he steps too close to her and brushes her arm. He mumbles an apology, steps away, then looks over to see her blushing. There’s a shy grin on her face. Noctis raises an eyebrow, but ignores the question that comes to mind.

When they reach the outlook, Noctis finds himself scanning the crowd, looking for Gladio. He feels a slight stab of disappointment when he still doesn’t see him. He’s about to tell Iris that maybe they should head back when he suddenly feels her move closer to him.

“You know, Noct,” she says, wrapping an arm around his and pressing her body close. “This almost feels like a date.”

Noctis tries to control his expression, but can’t fight that surprise that passes quickly over his face. He fakes a smile, nonchalantly slides his arm out of hers, and says, “If it were, your brother would kick my ass.”

The thought terrified him, honestly. At least now it made sense why she had started avoiding him before.

Iris giggles and lets her voice take on a flirty tone as she says, “Well, we better keep it quiet then.”

I don’t think you understand that if Gladio found out I was sleeping with both of the Amacitia siblings, he would literally kill me, is the first thing that goes through Noctis’s mind. When he’s about to speak, Iris sighs and continues, “And besides, you already have Lady Lunafreya.”

Noctis remains quiet. He wants to deny what she says, tell her that of all the people he truly desires, Luna isn’t one of them. The marriage between them is arranged and, while the prospect of spending the rest of his life with Luna hadn’t really seemed that bad in the beginning, it was the one thing he wants least in the world now. Picturing himself with anyone other than Gladio… Well, it just wasn’t going to happen, at least.

Iris offers an awkward smile and kicks absently at the ground. She turns back toward the location of their hotel and says, “Come on. The others should be back at the hotel by now. Let’s join them.”

Noctis agrees, putting thoughts of Luna and Iris and this whole awkward “date” aside, and follows her back to the hotel. As they had thought, when they get there, everyone is gathered in the lobby. As soon as they enter, all eyes turn to them. Noctis’s eyes find Gladio’s and, when they meet, he watches Gladio’s shoulders relax. A slow smile spreads across Gladio’s face, and Noct finds himself easily returning that smile.

“Where have you been?” Prompto asks, skipping forward. “We were starting to get worried!”

Iris and Noctis exhange a look and Iris giggles, “It’s our little secret.”

Prompto groans. “Don’t tell me you two were on a date? Noct, why do you get all the pretty girls?”

Iris only gigggles more and hides her now-blushing face. Noctis rolls his eyes and turns them to Gladio again, who suddenly is studying him curiously. Uh oh.

Later, when Noctis is laying in bed, he hears the door open. He looks up to see Gladio walking in and moves to the side as Gladio finds his place in the bed. When he’s comfortable, he turns to Noct, his eyebrow raised, “So.. A date with my sister, hmm?”

Noctis rolls his eyes and throws a leg around Gladio, easily manuevering himself to straddle the warrior. Gladio allows it and places his hands on Noctis’s hips, rubbing his sides lightly with his thumbs. Noctis says, “That’s what she seems to think.”

“Hmm,” Gladio says, and stops moving his thumbs. “And what is it that you think?”

Noctis shrugs. “I don’t think anything. I was only looking for you the whole time.”

Gladio looks at him curiously. “Looking for me? What for?”

Noctis sighs and rests his hands on Gladio’s stomach. “Do I need a reason?”

“No, but—“

“I had a dream,” Noctis interrupts, and moves his eyes to Gladio’s.

Serious now, Gladio studies Noctis’s face. He knows that Noctis had been having nightmares lately – the concern is written clearly on his face. Quietly, he asks, “What was the dream about?”

A smug grin spreads slowly across Noctis’s face. He leans down, picks up his hand and runs a slow finger down Gladio’s chest and stomach. He hooks the finger just inside Gladio’s pantline and turns smoldering eyes to the warrior. He says, “Let me show you.”

Gladio smirks, and eagerly meets Noctis’s lips with his own.

anonymous asked:

What's Marx like versus Xander (like how does his personality differ between the original and localization)?

At his core, Marx and Xander are one and the same - they have the same motivations, the same fears, the same pieces of their personality.

But how the localization decided to write him is……. pretty different?

Like….. he’s in a weird place because he’s the same character through and through but it’s literally only the way he speaks is different, and it’s not even like what he’s saying during some parts is different, just the way he presents himself? if that makes sense?

A lot of what I’m going to say can actually be summed up by their respective voice actor’s portrayals of him. Konishi digs hella deep for his Marx voice and when he speaks it’s almost as if he’s having difficulty speaking. Not that he stutters or whatever, but there are deliberate pauses and the way his voice dips sometimes that makes it sound like he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say/that he’s put careful deliberation into his words because there is more he wants to say, but can’t. David Stanbra, on the other hand, had a super dad voice, and Xander…… he sounds more forthcoming. He actually talks, like, a lot in the localization, whereas in the original script there are parts where he is silent or he starts or ends with ellipses, again driving home the point that his speech is well thought out (not that his speech isn’t well thought out in the localization - it’s just he doesn’t seem to be constantly torn over what he should and shouldn’t be saying)

All of this carries over to his written speech patterns. Marx’s speech patterns have that weight to them that carries everything I’ve already said about him being torn, as well as making for him sounding more intimidating. In Japanese, it’s really no wonder Sakura and others are afraid of him/think he’s intimidating. Xander…….. really doesn’t have the same kind of impact. He’s eloquent, of course, as a prince should be and as Marx is, but he doesn’t have the same weight coloring his speech.

For example - both Marx and Xander resort to death threats when Ryouma’s being a piece of shit to them (mostly because Marx/Xander actually really isn’t one to pettily argue - “opposing [him] equals death” (thanks original script)). In the original, he just sounds fuckin done. Ryouma says something inflammatory and Marx is just like “I will be happy to behead you” - it’s his kingly mask, his conqueror’s visage speaking. Xander…… well, his death threats sound more empty. He sounds like he’s resorting to death threats bc he can’t actually argue back and wants to make it sound like he just doesn’t wanna sink that low rather than actually being no-nonsense about this kinda stuff.

In Nohr chapter 6, in the localization, Xander says something about two princes facing off against each other being almost poetic or some shit. In the original script he says basically “Yeah, I should fight you bastard at least once” the implication being that he could just leave with Kamui but that he’s gonna humor Ryouma just to beat the shit out of him. It’s literally Marx’s way of saying “Never speak to me or my family ever again.”

And of course, this is only looking at his differences when angry, but it’s basically the same across the board.

If you want it broken down even further -

Xander carries himself like a typical crown prince. He’s eloquent in a princely way, he’s more openly affectionate (at least toward his family), in general he seems more approachable. He carries himself as a Prince before he carries himself as a Conqueror.

Marx, on the other hand, carries himself more like a war veteran. He’s eloquent in the way a conqueror offering mercy upon surrender is eloquent. He’s… more sparsely affectionate. Oh, you can tell affection is there and was always there, especially after openly receiving it from him, but his manner of speech still renders him….. not quite cold per se, but there’s a certain amount of distance it brings to him, like he’s standing far above you. He carries himself as a Conqueror before he carries himself as a Prince.

Also to note - Marx is a man heavily broken down by wanting to be justice but believing that justice does not exist. Even in the Nohr route, by the end of it he’s almost completely broken and it’s only Kamui’s stalwart belief in an “ideal” justice (instead of the “reality” of justice - i.e. being able to save absolutely everyone vs. having to kill to be able to save anything at all). His character arc comes to a close at the very last cutscene of the Nohr route where he muses about the concept of justice. He says that there was no justice in the last fight (i.e. that it did not exist), then backtracks and says that that isn’t for him to say. He then acknowledges justice as more than his narrow perception of what the world (aka all the shit that happened in Nohr bc of Garon, Ganz, and Iago), and calls it fragile and mutable….. finally coming to the conclusion that he will protect and uphold the justice he believes in (HE BELIEVES IN JUSTICE AGAIN GOD BLESS), and it is because of Kamui that he can do so.

Xander, on the other hand, says “justice is an illusion” but…….. While Marx says that justice doesn’t exist, only desire and ambition (aka the desires of men and the will to cut others down for it), Xander says that justice is illusion…. And in it’s stead, the only things they can hold onto are the desire to protect the ones they love and the ambition to something something i forget the full quote. BASICALLY, while he doesn’t believe in justice, he’s still come to his own conclusions about what he should believe in (which is a sort of justice even if he doesn’t brand it that way).

EDIT: THIS IS NOT ACTUALLY IMPORTANT BUT ITS IMPORTANT TO ME!!!!!

Marx is actually pretty playful with his family. In chapter 1 AKA THE CHAPTER THAT CODIFIES HIM!!!! he teams up with Kamui to gang up on Leon and gently bully him. And by that I mean Kamui is oblivious altho what their saying is gentle bullying they still don’t really know, but MARX KNOWS BETTER AND STILL TEASES LEON ANYWAY. Then there’s his conversation with Lazaward in the Nohr Festival DLC where he bullies Laz about his stone.

Xander, at least in the first part doesn’t really come off as playful and im so sad im so sad ok i love that part of marx

Protector | Part 6

Pairing: Vixx Leo x Reader

Genre: Royal!AU

Summary: A threat is closing in on the Kingdom. How can the Princess protect her Kingdom when she’s causing trouble all on her own? The Kingdom needs him. The Princess needs her Protector.

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long. Writers block + other things suck. Slightly longer update. Will probably re-edit a few parts later. Enjoy!! 

Read more: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5


You were finally alone. The Castle gardens weren’t a proper escape, but for the meantime, you’d be free of a certain Prince’s tantrums and Taekwoon’s overprotective gaze. You’d snuck away during breakfast, the men busied by your father’s dull conversation.

The castle gardens were beautiful. Marble fountains with water that glittered in the early morning sunshine. The sunshine always made the garden seem that much more lovely. Fragrant, vibrant and delicate flowers sprouted in hedge mazes and flowerbeds, swaying gently in the breeze. Trees of flowers and fruits shaded stone benches and small table settings. It truly was serene. As much as you hated the castle and its constricting walls, you did love the garden. It was your happiness within your prison cell.

You paced forward, fingertips skimming delicately along the flower petals of the hedge mazes. This was what you needed, some fresh air, an escape from your horrid future husband. Well, proposed future husband. You’d not let yourself be married off to such a man so easily.

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Legolas x Reader

Title: Stitches

Characters: Legolas Greenleaf

Word Count: 1,487

Warnings: blood, not super graphic description of stitches

Summary: Can I request a Legolas x Reader where they’re off in the woods together and he gets a severe cut on his arm so the reader has to stitch him up there but it’s revealed that Legolas’ major fear is needles but the reader knows she has to do it or else he could die? And there’s no anesthesia available at the time, so it’s quite painful (tears from legolas plsss) and the reader comforts him throughout the whole thing? (Let’s say they are already a couple)

A/N: I literally finished this in a day I cannot believe, honestly who am I? Okay so sorry Leggy is pretty OOC I think so ha kill. Uh I hope you like this anon and this is literally the longest fic I’ve ever written so yeah idk who I am anymore

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS:

meleth nin - My Love

Gin melin- I love you

Sevog i veleth nin an cuil – you have my love for life

 

The sun was high in the sky and its light filtered through the canopy of the trees. Casting complex shadows all across the forest floor. His fingers were laced with yours and you swung your intertwined hands slightly. You turned your face up to catch the wind and a smile wormed its way onto your features. You turned to Legolas, your smile growing, a blush rose on his cheeks and he smiled back at you sheepishly.

He was the King’s son, a prince. A charming, graceful and stoic prince, he was lusted after, envied, honored. He was focused, centered and balanced. No ever broke his façade, no one ever threw him off balance, no one except you. You threw him for a loop and then some. Legolas had never met someone like you.  One smile, one side glance and you knocked him completely off balance. Literally. The first time you ever smiled at him he tripped over his own feet and fell right into an armor stand. That was two years ago and every smile, every laugh, every touch, and every kiss since had him falling all over again.

Legolas had never in his life been called clumsy. Elves aren’t clumsy, they’re poised and graceful. But every day since that first smile he couldn’t help but loose his balance around you. It irked him somewhat in the beginning how one person could change him so drastically but over time he has learned to love it, and learned to love you, and everything you are together.

He expected you to laugh at him, the first time he fell and every time after that, but you never did. You always would let out a sigh and small smile as you helped him up and tended to any wound he might have received. Since the two of you have started courting kisses have proven to be the best remedy for his ailments rather than a trip to the healer. That mentality carried on elsewhere and it seemed like every good thing about you cured every bad thing about him, and vice versa.

 

You squeezed Legolas’ hand with excitement bubbling up in your chest. You couldn’t help it. He was leading you through the forest to a secluded clearing where he had promised the two of you would spend the day. The private time between the two of you had begun dwindling, after all, you were to be the king and queen of Mirkwood someday. Being king and queen meant a lot of meetings and a lot of training, in everything from table manners to your skill with a sword.

No training today, though, you were promised. Today was to be just you and your lover, you couldn’t be more excited. In your excitement, you couldn’t help but lean over to peck his lips. You pulled away smiling, and that’s when it happened.

His foot caught on an exposed root and he went tumbling forward. A strangled yell left his parted lips as his arm scraped against a large rock. He swore quietly in Elvish holding the wound close to him ripping the side of his tunic and using it as a bandage to stop some of the bleeding. He let out a weak laugh at the mess he just got himself into and look up at you helpless.

“Legolas!” Kneeling next to him you lifted his arm and unwrapped it examining the wound before rewrapping it. You smiled weakly trying to ignore the pained look on his face. “Y-You need stitches.”

“Surely a kiss will do my love” He attempted to jest and hide the fear growing in his eyes, he failed.

“Luckily I brought my sewing. I thought we’d be here all day.” You said laughing dryly as you clawed through your bag for a needle and thread. At the sight of the needle, his eyes widened and sweat began to form on his brow. You noticed this immediately and grabbed his large hand in your smaller one, giving his fingers a light squeeze before going back into to look for some thread.

Now the Prince of Mirkwood wasn’t afraid of much, but needles always got to him. Ever since a terrible accident with a sword when he was an elfling, one that required far too many stitches for any child to endure, he had developed a fear of needles. That fear was certainly something he didn’t want you to witness in action so he took deep breaths and tried to calm his already racing heart. His breath caught as he watched you find a suitably sized piece of thread.

“Please, my love. There has to be something else.” His voice was weak and his eyes were pleading. In any other situation you would have cracked and given in to him, but you remained strong.

“I promise there is nothing to be afraid of, it will only hurt a bit and I will be here the whole time. Plus there is no way you can make it back to the palace conscious.” You reasoned taking his face in your hands. You placed kisses on each of his cheeks and one on his lips before moving to thread the needle. He watched you anxiously, he knew you were right but that didn’t quell the nervous storm brewing in his belly. You did, though, seeing you, knowing you would be delivering the stitches soothed him somewhat.

You met his eyes as you brought his arm into your lap; he nodded solemnly and looked down. You bit your lip as you swore you saw tears glistening in his eyes. He blinked quickly trying to rid his eyes of said tears. You shook your head slightly; blaming the angle of the sun rather than tears you positioned the needle.

“On three my brave Prince, one… two… three…” He cried out as you plunged the needle into his skin you worked quickly to stitch up the wound. You winced with him every time you pulled the string taut closing the wound further. It was hard for you to see him in so much pain but you knew this was for the best. “I know I know it hurts, but we’re almost done, and you are doing so well” You cooed as you saw a few tears slip down his pale cheeks. You frowned at his whimpers but continued to work the tool through his flesh.

Silent tears stream down his face and you choke back a sob of your own. You certainly aren’t used to seeing him this vulnerable and certainly not at your own hands. Pushing those thoughts away you focused all your concentration on finishing his stitches. A sigh of relief blew past your lips when you finally tied off the end of the thread. You wiped the extra blood off of him with a small rag and sat back on your knees wiping the blood from your own hands.

“All done, meleth nin. I am so sorry I hurt you.” You whispered leaning forward and taking his face in your hands once again, you used the pads of your thumbs to wipe away his tears. You smiled at him tears glistening in your own eyes, you couldn’t be happier that this was over, and that he would be okay.

“No, I am sorry you have not found a more graceful and brave prince.” He replied gravely, leaning away from your touch.

“Now you stop that right this instant,” You demanded,”You are the bravest, most graceful and eloquent prince or elf for that matter that I have ever met. You are strong willed and compassionate, you merely lose your balance at the sight of your love. Believe it as you may I get quite tongue-tied at the sight of you and after our lips meet I can nary speak full sentences for hours. There is nothing to be ashamed of my sweet. Nothing you do could make me love or respect you less.”

“I cannot even take stitches without being brought to tears.” He protested.

“I have witnessed guards being healed before and I don’t think there is neither elf nor man who can take stitches without tears. I presume even your stony-faced father would be brought to tears.” At this, he laughed, and you laughed with him. A content smile quirked up his lips and he looked up into the canopy of leaves.

He looked back down at you to see you staring and swooped down to kiss you. You grinned against his lips and returned it. His good arm secured itself around your waist as one of your hands found his hair and the other was held against his heart. You stayed like that for as long as either of you could manage without air before breaking away and leaning against the others forehead.

Looking into your eyes he smiled, “Thank you. Gin melin.”

Sevog i veleth nin an cuil.”          

okay I know we’re all v attached to the idea that hamlet and horatio met at wittenburg and were A Thing before hamlet had to leave for his father’s funeral

but consider a hamlet and horatio who didn’t really know each other at wittenburg. where instead of interpreting ‘or i do forget myself’ as 'forgetting you would be like forgetting who I am’ we go with 'oh um is that right? I think that’s right’

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Doubt is named doubt because it resembles truth. As for lovers of Allah, their conviction serves them as light and the direction of the right path (itself) serves as their guide; while the enemies of Allah, in time of doubt call to misguidance in the darkness of doubt and their guide is blindness (of intelligence). One who fears death cannot escape it nor can one who fears for eternal life secure it.
—  The Commander of the Faithful `Ālī (peace be upon him), Nāhj Al-Balaghā, Sermon 38

“Fourth Prince, Wang So, will marry Lady Murasaki Shikibu.”

The news that came from King Taejo’s mouth back then, caused his ministers to look at each other and whisper words of surprise and shock. The connection to the Japanese Empire had to be strengthened and for some reason, his father decided that it’d be the young man the one in charge for that mission. He. The monster, the beast, the mistake. Why did he choose him? There are several considerations to be put on the table. The main one was that the Crown Prince is too important to be tied to a ’Japanese bitch’ like Prince Yo, the Third Prince so eloquently put it. So the task had to go to a lesser one in the rank.

           Wang So, the wolf-dog as they call him.
                In charge of this particularly complicated matter.

                           He, a rabid animal.

The reception party awaits at the harbor. His father’s not present, for she is actually not a princess. Noble, yes, but not enough for him. The rest of the princes line behind him as Choi Ji Mong stands beside the prince, his gaze stuck in the horizon.

“She is a refined and excellent lady, Your Highness. An incomparable beauty, as I’ve heard, too.”

He saw a painting but of course, it has nothing to do with reality. Daughter of the Fujiwara clan, a very powerful one as he has heard, of great warriors. But a woman, of course, like all women, are merely decorative objects to provide children. Dressed in his most refined black hanbok, embroidered with a golden dragon, his family’s emblem, he waits. His long, dark hair is tied in a neat bun and his half mask covering his scars, in place, and even if he could care less about his appearance, he’s not going to make a fool out of himself.

The drums begin to sound as the ship approaches the land. The prince’s focus is on the massive structure as it moves in the water.

The time has come.

@murascki

My two cents

My heart aches that Harry has had to formally announce his relationship on the back of harassment of Meghan. When are they (the media) going to learn that they are crossing a huge line in their behaviour, when they are pursuing a “story”, that can only be considered illegal? When someone who never comments on their personal life on the public stage, has to release a statement imploring the media to stop their actions, you know there is something wrong. Note to media: take a step back and have a serious think about your actions and the effect that they are having on others.