#p.s. this is not an invitation to send me a million comments about 'yeah you HAVE to check out hazbin hotel/helluva boss!'

[rhys-ravenfeather]

Me, who has never watched Hazbin Hotel, just doing my own thing as people argue back and forth against or in defense of the show:

[prismatoxic]

tox. tox. tox. i cant even. THE LATEST CHAPTER???? HELLO???? i was gonna comment but i felt like i wouldnt be able to get my energy across- OUFUGGHPGIHGHO???? OUHOGIDHAJAIGOHA????;!??!!?? THE CALL!!?!??!!! "wow, you really ARE different..." "whats that supposed to mean?" AREUGGGOGFURHHHGFRGHTH

CHIL REPEATING THE WORD "DOG" IN HIS NATIVE LANGUAGE. I CAN HEAR IT. well i mean i actually hear it in Filipino because thats my native language but still. i can imagine it so well. i love them your honor... they are silly...

also:

"what are you even doing???"

"dont worry about it. anyways let me send you thousands of dollars-"

"THOUSA-??!??!"

"DONT WORRY ABOUT IT"

I KNOW THATS NOT THE ACTUAL VIBE THATS BEING AIMED FOR HERE BUT THE PHRASING MADE ME GIGGLE BECAUSE CHIL.... YOU SOUND SO SUSPICIOUS. BY NOT ANSWERING THE QUESTION YOU MAKE IT SOUND A MILLION TIMES WORSE THAN IT ACTUALLY IS

anyways great chapter thank you thank you thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶

~ phio phoefickle ✌️

(p.s. meijack you are in SO much unserious trouble....)

both direct comments and tumblr asks are good for me, it's serotonin right to my veins either way :3 there's a thread in my chilaios server where people also just liveblog their thoughts at me and i'm very hinged about the praise (<- lying)

honestly i love when people think of chilchuck in their own culture... i've seen some friends talk about latino chilchuck, it's so fun. and it's not like we have a tolkien-esque dictionary of half-foot so imagining it in your own language makes sense to me!!

AND YEAH... HONESTLY... you have picked up on something there that i did intentionally, LMAO. so while it's not the vibe chilchuck intended, it's the one that's going to get him in trouble later <3 puckpatti may be willing to gloss over all of this in the name of her dad being happy, but there are others who may take it as something to be concerned about... :3c

i've started chapter 7, and your ask made me very happy so how about i share the beginning with you:

The night before the trip, Laios invites Chilchuck out to Senshi’s, and he finds himself agreeing far more readily than he did the first time. What’s more, everyone can make it; it’s nice to see Falin again, but he also gets to see Marcille when she’s not tired and overworked.

He’s not actually sure if that’s a good thing, in the end.

She hugs Laios when he and Chilchuck arrive (not as tightly as Falin does, but still with a certain degree of overt fondness), then sits herself down and immediately launches into the friendliest interrogation Chilchuck has ever found himself subject to. He can barely half-answer her before she’s launched into another question; about where he’s from, about what he does, about how Laios has been treating him… She asks about his family, too, but it’s Laios who gently deflects her when Chilchuck stalls out about it.

“He’s kind of a private person,” Laios laughs, raising a glass of soda to his lips. “Let him actually get to know you first, Marcille. Then he’ll tell you himself.”

Chilchuck doesn’t want to tell anyone anything about his life without prompting, but he thinks Laios knows that; the easy escape from the line of questioning is appreciated, either way.

“I hope you stick around long enough for that to happen!” Marcille enthuses. “You seem like a really interesting person, Chilchuck. And clearly you’ve got Laios under control.”

Chilchuck laughs at that, and he’s not the only one; Falin and Namari laugh too (and even Shuro smiles a little). A glance Laios's way reveals he’s flustered, but similarly amused. “He’s not hard to direct,” Chilchuck muses over the rim of his water glass. “He just needs to be told exactly what to do.”

He pretends he doesn’t notice the look Falin gives her brother.

[ravenclawwriting]

constellations

Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter Warnings: alcohol

“Thanks.” Draco Malfoy nods at the bartender, whom had just slid a glass of firewhiskey his way. His fingers wrap around the beverage before he brings it to his lips, feeling the slightly soothing burn as it glides down his throat.

“Malfoy?” Draco feels frozen in place. His eyes stay glued to the alcohol quivering in his cup as he struggles to swallow the massive lump in his throat. He knows that voice. And he doesn’t want to face the person behind it.

He decides to ignore it, hoping with every nerve in his body that he’ll give up and leave.

“Draco Malfoy.”

The use of his full name sends a shiver down Draco’s spine, and he’s left with no choice but to turn around. When he spins around on the bar seat, his eyes immediately fall on Harry Potter, who is standing wearing a leather jacket draped over a red flannel.

Draco’s blue eyes scan Harry’s body, taking in the sight of the boy he hadn’t seen in years. “Potter,” he breathes, more of a statement than a greeting.

He continues to stare, waiting for Harry to fidget - but he never does. That irritates Draco to his very core, as he has always liked having the upper hand.

“Well, if you’re not going to invite me to sit with you,” Harry says, finishing his thought by shrugging off his jacket and taking a seat directly to Draco’s right. The blonde boy sighs, swiveling back to face the bar. 

“For the record,” Draco says, before taking a large sip of his firewhiskey. “I didn’t invite you to sit down.”

Harry shoots him a sarcastic smile, his left eyebrow raised, before ordering a drink for himself.

“So, what are you doing here, by yourself?” Harry asks, sipping his cup.

Draco clenches his jaw, despising the way Potter asked that so naturally, and had managed not to sound intrusive. Prying his eyes from the remaining liquid in his glass, he glances at Harry, his eyes drifting to his brown curls. “I could ask you the same thing,” Draco responds, before downing the rest of his drink.

“Fair enough,” Harry says. His emerald eyes seem to drift over Draco’s face before he adds, “Let me buy you a refill.”

For the first time that night, the corners of Draco’s mouth curve into a small smile. “Are you hitting on me, Potter?”

Harry simply shrugs, and Draco can’t help but envy his complete confidence.

“What happened to the Weasel girl?” Draco asks, purely to push the Golden Boy’s buttons.

“You know, I don’t think you’re actually as bitter as you act,” Harry retorts, taking another sip of alcohol without tearing his eyes from Draco’s face.

“What?” Draco says, thrown off by the sudden comment and shift of topic. He furrows his eyebrows, avoiding Harry’s gaze.

“I think this cold exterior you have is just a front you put up. You probably always have.”

Draco’s at a loss for words, and he can’t seem to get any sound past his throat. After stuttering for a bit and trying to hide the fact that Harry Potter might have seen directly through him, Draco turns back toward the bar and lets out a small sigh. 

“Ginny and I broke up, by the way. It was mutual.”

When Draco turns back to face him, he can see Harry’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows hard, looking down at the fingers on his right hand, which are fidgeting with his flannel sleeve.

Draco considers all the possible responses he could hurl back, but in the end he decides to go with: “I’ll take you up on your offer. For a refill.”

Harry grins.

A few drinks in, and the former enemies are laughing with each other as if they’d been close friends for years. 

The blonde boy peers at Harry’s right arm, which now sits bare on the table after Harry had rolled back both his sleeves.

The tattoo intrigues Draco, and he’s not sure why. It appears to be a large star, surrounded by smaller ones in a beautiful pattern that Draco could only dream of being able to draw.

“What does it mean?” he asks, nodding in the direction of the star, his pale fingers wrapped tightly around his third glass of firewhiskey.

“Oh,” Harry breathes, looking down at it himself. Draco can’t help but notice that Potter’s grin shrinks to almost half of what is was before. He’s about to apologize for asking, but Harry answers, “It’s Sirius. The largest star in the night sky,” he says, his smile growing again. “I got it for -”

“Your godfather.”

Harry looks at Draco as if he’s peering into something he’d never seen before. Draco squirms slightly in his seat, clearly overwhelmed by the intensity of Harry’s green gaze. “Yeah,” the brunette breathes, his eyes not faltering from Draco’s.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry leans back in his seat. “How about you, Malfoy?” he asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Any tattoos?”

Draco simply shakes his head, taking another sip from his drink. 

“So just that hole in your lip, then,” Harry says, twirling the ends of one of his curls with his fingertips.

Draco instinctively starts messing with his lip ring, sucking the cool metal into his mouth for a second. He notices Harry staring. 

“What was it, a spontaneous act of rebellion?” It sounds odd to hear the word rebellion used like that by someone who was the center of an entire war. The right side of Draco’s mouth turns up into a smirk. “Sure.”

Really, he had been absolutely hammered the night he got the piercing, as a result of a disagreement with his father. But the next morning, he didn’t exactly hate the way it looked.

“It seems like we’ve both changed, don’t you think?” Harry says, tracing his right index finger along the rim of his empty glass. 

Draco looks at him; his lips part. He shakes his head and says, “I don’t think so.”

Draco Malfoy isn’t quite sure how he ended up kissing Harry Potter inside of a cluttered broom cupboard, but he didn’t exactly resist it.

He can taste the alcohol residing on the Golden Boy’s soft lips; enjoys the pungent taste as he threads his pale fingers through Harry’s brown curls. 

Draco can feel Harry’s steady hands on his neck, his chest, his waist. He smiles into their kiss, a smile that he never in a million years thought would arise.

His fingers move to trace the ink covering Harry’s veins, just as the other boy finds Draco’s lip ring. There happens to be a broom handle poking Draco’s lower back, but he couldn’t care in the slightest.

Harry breaks away for a spilt second. “Do you want to-”

“Yes,” Draco whispers, just desperate enough to make Harry crash his mouth back onto his.

It really doesn’t matter what the question was.

The following morning, sunlight leaks through the curtains as Draco wakes up in his bed, white cotton sheets wrapped around his torso and a fresh magenta mark curved underneath the skin of his jaw.

He wakes up in his empty bed. 

Draco’s hand flies to his forehead; his fingers trace small circles to keep himself calm. He wonders if it was all a dream. A random, incoherent dream where he’d slept with -

“You’re awake,” Harry says from the doorway. 

Draco’s blue eyes dart in his direction, and he tries to convince himself that Harry Potter is really leaning against his bedroom door frame, holding two steaming mugs in his hands.

Draco can’t help but recognize his own sweatpants, hung dangerously low on Harry’s hips. 

Draco’s speechless.

Harry carefully walks over, watching the liquid in the cups so he won’t spill. The mattress curves downward next to Draco as Harry sits, saying, “I didn’t know if you like coffee or tea in the morning, so I made both.”

The grin on Draco’s face stretches for miles. He wonders again if this is a dream, but the aroma of the coffee he takes from Harry’s warm hand is far too rich and vivid for Draco to be unconscious.

“Thanks,” Draco says, before taking a long sip of the coffee. Harry smiles in response and raises the mug of tea to his lips.

“So I was thinking,” Harry says, as Draco glances up at the brown mess of hair atop his head.

“That can’t be good,” Draco says quickly, before Harry can finish. Harry dramatically rolls his eyes as Draco takes a second sip of the hot beverage.

“I want to ask you out on a date.” Draco nearly chokes on his coffee, and it brings a sharp sting to his nose.

“What?” Harry asks. “Why is that so hard to picture?”

Draco clears his throat. “It’s not,” he reassures, biting his lower lip. “You just caught me off guard.”

Harry flashes that golden grin, gripping the cup of tea near his lap. “Are you scared, Malfoy?”

Draco smiles, raising his eyebrows. “You wish.”

hi guys!! i’m so sorry i’ve been gone for a little while. i’ve been super busy. i really missed writing on here!! p.s. i hit 2k followers today and I just want to say thank you all for taking the time to read the words that spew out of my brain :))