#tellie talks arting stuff

[telemna-hyelle]

One of my students was like “How can you draw so good?”

I said “Practi--”

“And don’t say practice!” She added. “You’re an artist.”

“The thing is, I’m in my twenties,” i said, “And you’re six. My art looked just like yours when I was your age. You just need to keep on drawing.”

[g0rechan]

Okay, random question: If ST was set in a modern day, what are your headcanons of that? Do you think there would be differences in the story or characters? I feel like it'll be hard to have a circus in the modern setting, but that could be a fun horror movie idea with a world with TikTok, like an urban legend almost "Be careful of this road, there's a circus full of monsters" or maybe it could be a weird money hungry cult

AH HELL YEAH I’ve got brain juice for a modern day shoujo tsubaki!

But first, I’ll answer your question, the closest thing we have to this story taking place in modern day is the live action, where it’s not really a freak show, but rather just some… oddballs in a circus. Hence why it was changed to “Red cat circus” instead of “Mr. Arashi’s amazing freak show”. Exploitation and abuse already happens a lot in those entertainment industries. So, sadly, I don’t think they would necessarily be demonized by society as much since Midori’s abuse and the exploitation of the freaks is kept a secret ☹️

Now, onto headcanons!

So Beni and Akaza are Gen X and grew up together. Beni was that one friend who would barge into their friend’s house without warning. They would hang out Thundercats and He-man.

Akaza also loved Dragon Ball and still does to this day. He had the whole manga stack in his room and everything.

Beni loved watching Rainbow Brite and Care Bears, Akaza would get so annoyed and tell her to turn it off. “I don’t wanna watch a girls cartoon!”

Speaking of which, Beni also had a bunch of care bear shit. I’m talking care bear plushies, care bear pajamas, care bear book bags, a lunch box, figurines, and so on…

Muchisute is a millennial and grew up in the late 90s-Early 2000s.

Younger Muchi LOVED Eminem and Limp Bizkit and would try replicate Fred Durst’s and Eminem’s fashion.

His mother would get so mad whenever she heard him listening to the uncensored version of “My name is” 😭 😭

He was also a skater boy and had been doing it since he was 6 years old.

He had a crush on Avril Lavigne when he was younger hehe

He grew up watching stuff like Pokémon, Dragon ball, Cowboy bebop, and adult swim cartoons like Venture bros, Boondocks, and Aqua teen hunger force.

One of his favorite movies was Kids and his favorite character was Casper.

Tbh, teen Muchisute was like a more depressed and quiet version of Telly (in my HC).

Him, Akaza, and Kanabun love GTA, Manhunt, Red dead redemption and a bunch of other violent video games.

Muchisute walked in on Bun playing GTA San Andreas and was like “oh hey I remember this game”

Kanabun responded “Remember?” Cuz he forgot that Muchisute was a kid when the game came out lmaooo. “Yeah, I played that when I was your age!”

Midori loves kpop bands like Blackpink and BTS, she can name all the members at the top of her head.

She has a wattpad account and she reads a lot of kpop, trolls, and mlp fanfics

Kanabun trolls her all the time and tells her the members all look the same lol

Kanabun would have a tik tok where he makes a lot of rage bait and troll videos

He also makes videos trying to replicate his favorite ytuber Ishowspeed in a very unoriginal and low quality manner

Midori watches a lot of makeup and art vids on yt shorts.

Middy loves drawing, she tries to replicate her art after Sailor moon and Cardcaptor Sakura.

Her favorite sailor scout is Sailor Mars.

[magicalgirlagency]

Favorite YT channels?

🇧🇷 Arquivo Mortal Kombat (channel dedicated to everything related to the Mortal Kombat franchise, with random livestreams on a weekly basis);

Party Crashers (this almost feels like cheating, 'cause this channel consists of five different youtubers, lol);

Amaury Guichon (a.k.a.: The Chocolate Guy. Pretty self-explainatory);

Flowers & Ambience (relaxing media-themed playlists);

🇧🇷 Crash Bandicoot Brasil (a brazilian channel about Crash Bandicoot that has recently returned from a 3-year hiatus!);

Lythero (shitpost-flavored gameplays with stellar animated skits and guests!);

Planet Clue (previously known as KKClue. A channel about kidcore stuff, like niche games and toys);

Cooking With Fred (solid Binging With Babish replacement. Does shorts where he replicates meals from cartoons and anime);

🇧🇷 Vila do Chaves (collection of several videos with trivia about El Chavo del Ocho and other creations of Chespirito);

Friendly Space Ninja (pop culture-loving and aspiring artist who blabs about whatever's hot on the telly. Love to listen to him complaining about bad shows);

Momopurin (artist who draws cutesy stuff, including Magical Girls);

PricklyAlpaca (artist who does highly detailed designs and DIYs based on specific prompts);

NintendoComplete (despite the name, it showcases more than just Nintendo games. It has longplays and remixes of various video game tunes);

Kerchie (toy collector and designer, but a majority of her content is toy collecting/showcasing, mostly Polly Pocket toys, both old and new);

Lavi Alraune (vtuber, self-entitled Mandrake Maiden, who plays video games and heavily interacts with her viewers via chat);

Hanako's Kitchen (japanese housewife showing what kinds of meals she prepares for her family on a weekly basis);

Mani Land (korean kidcore channel that showcases toy reviews and resin DIYs);

Dreamy Dice (a beautiful collection of D&D dice sets done in resin);

🇧🇷 Tio Gordo (shitpost-y gameplays and lives, huge Crash Bandicoot fan);

Ara's Today (kawaii stationary vlogs and ASMR vids! 'Nuff said!);

CHARIBO ART (artist who does ASMR vids of their drawings, from line art to coloring);

GTV Japan (mini-doc videos about video games and other obscure japanese media in the style of a TV show!);

🇧🇷 Kraven the Raven (an alcoholic raven who talks about criminals, cultists, lowcows/horrorcows and other internet oddities, traumatizing himself in the process for the sake of entertainment. Oh, and he's also a lawyer);

Wholesome Games (collection of teasers and trailers of cute and cozy indie games);

MOTHER Forever (niche channel about the MOTHER/EarthBound series, plus occasional showcases of MOTHER-like indies);

Nananaji glo. (showcase of many gadgets, old and new, with an aesthetic feel);

Toasty Tok (cozy and cute TikTok compilations about mundane stuff);

🇧🇷 Nostal_Gi (channel about Lost Media and other nostalgic stuff);

Syam (heavily Obey Me-centric channel showcasing almost every Pop Quiz Event and Devilgram Story from both OG and Nightbringer apps);

GameBoy Mart (youtuber who does GameBoy console customs, with occasional giveaways);

Garfield Archive (channel dedicated to the archiving of classic Garfield stuff, with FULL EPISODES of Garfield & Friends and almost every Garfield Special!);

MILFGOD (drawing timelapses of cute older women, accompanied with soft-spoken personal stories);

GinjaNinjaOwO (art channel from the creator of PRISM);

Japanese Stuff Channel (channel about tasty treats and gachapon from Japan);

World of Longplays (a YouTube essential with buttloads of longplays of video games from almost every console, and it's still growing...!)

🇧🇷 Nunca Te Pedi Nada (channel about a little bit of everything, from vlogs to educational left-aligned things);

Miura Ayme (vtuber, cosplayer, band vocalist and seiyuu of Obey Me's Asmodeus);

Razor & Zenon (russian channel that does gameplays and walkthroughs of Sonic The Hedgehog hacks/ROMs);

🇧🇷 Raquel Nery (the life shares of a young autistic woman studying to become a medic. Very charismatic and cute!).

[mercurialblonde]

Telly and Casper

Finally got around to actually watching all of Kids. The Larry Clark/Harmony Korine thing. I was watching some video reactions on tumblr to it, and the one I watched they were talking about how weird it was the way Chloe's character responded to testing HIV positive. Just because of how far medicine, stigma, and treatment to it has changed in the last 25 years. But that's such an underlying part of the movie is the fact that Telly is stalking around NY like a killer targeting little girls with this virus that at the time was considered a death sentence. To watch the movie without understanding that context--it really must make the movie seem really just random. Like that last scene between Casper and Jennie is totally changed by knowing that she's HIV positive. But I also think all of that stuff--that is basically what the KIDS movie is--is kind of not what the KIDS movie actually is. I think time has been really kind to it. Because it captures really purely this time in between being a kid and being an adult--or even an older teen. It wasn't the kind of life I lived as a kid in that time, but I was aware of being adjacent to a world like that where kids were doing that kind of stupid shit all the time. And I've seen kids act that kind of way. But it's really hard to capture the unique way kids acted that kind of way in that particular time in those particular spaces.

I'm also reading Basketball Diaries right now, which is basically the same kind of thing, but actually real. I'm really interested in the way that Casper and Telly--you can't take your eyes off of them. Even though they're horrific and have really base philosophies behind what they are doing--there's an aesthetic appeal to it. Like in Basketball Diaries, when they are beating teams on the court and then robbing them. I don't need to be told as a adult that these things are wrong. But within the distance of art--which is to say how they are presented, the chaos is really beautiful.

Which is fucked up with Basketball Diaries, because that's a memoir. I guess what really attracts me about it is less what they're doing, and that I can feel what they're doing as an expression of something that they lack the ability to articulate otherwise. There's an underlying pain. I think Ebert nailed this in his review of kids when he was talking about Telly "What you realize, thinking about Telly, is that life has given him nothing that interests him, except for sex, drugs and skateboards. His life is a kind of hell, briefly interrupted by orgasms." I think that is touching on what hit me with KIDS. Not the HIV-Monster movie slasher fic read of it. And I'm not even saying it like I feel sorry for Telly. Because I don't. But I'm saying we live in that kind of world. We all do. We're chasing our desires in a swirl of pain and beauty. And there's death all around us. And we can feel that all around us, on micro and macro levels--but we can't articulate whatever it is that's behind all of it--that engine back behind desire chasing us until we are crazy, exhausted, and ready to die somewhere at sometime. And I'm not even saying as a horrific thing. I feel numb about it at worst. But mostly it's kind of a pretty and desperate thing.

[circular-time]

I posted 1,535 times in 2022

That's 311 more posts than 2021!

122 posts created (8%)

1,413 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@poppiesforthirteen

@ssaalexblake

@classicwhostuff

@junkyardbluebox

@timetravelbypen

I tagged 1,113 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#other people's art - 153 posts

#thirteenth doctor - 100 posts

#queue - 90 posts

#dw spoilers - 88 posts

#thasmin - 87 posts

#doctor who spoilers - 57 posts

#doctor who - 52 posts

#tpotd - 50 posts

#jodie whittaker - 49 posts

#twitlure - 42 posts

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

154 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

#4

See the full post

177 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

#3

A reminder of that powerful clip Jodie Whittaker released for fans, especially children, on March 25, 2020, two days after covid lockdown began in the UK.

186 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#2

So before I fall asleep and forget panels

Mandip really has loved every minute, talks about how good a "number one" is - Jodie leading the cast in a totally supportive way so everyone had lunch in her trailer just as a matter of course as they talked things out and she looked out for them; she's "the boss" to Bradley Walsh and even he was impressed by how she does that BTS job of kind of being the captain and anchoring/guiding them (Colin Spaul who did classic Who and new mentions there really isn't much time for rehearsal now, unlike the old days, so not a lot of time to plan and experiment)

S11-12 Jodie was 1, Brad 2, Tosin 3, she was 4, and she probably should've been 3 with John Bishop's experience but Jodie said absolutely not; also in scenes without the Doctor Mandip was half jokingly being 1 but had actually learned a lot from Jodie about leading a cast, a lot of bts stuff she'll take with her [parallelling Yaz!] obviously admires her as well as being really good friends

it's Mandip's first con in the states so of course she's getting really competitive trying to beat Barrowman's ribbon collection

she doesn't think of it as work (she said this at the smaller meet & greet) she really does love acting!

Mandip was a little disappointed they had to stay in wales ("I love Wales!" she hastened to add) for s13 after going to S Africa and Tenerife and Bulgaria, but she liked the continuity, getting to work with actors for several stories like past work

Her favorite stunt so far, although they're tiring, was the crane, just because she'd been doing "telly in the kitchen" right before that, and that scene told her right away this was Big (although she didn't like the heights)

upside down isn't as fun as she thought it would be; headache!

She didn't know that yaz was going to fall for the Doctor until she read those lines on the page — she and Jodie were both like "hm, yeah, we can work with this!" —although it was a natural progression. Until then had been playing it that Yaz admired and loved the Doctor in one way or another, but it totally made sense (she talked about falling in love after becoming good friends with someone, and about how Yaz's flashes of anger with the Doctor are because it hurts more when someone you love hurts you; you don't care so much "if it's a bus driver being rude")

Yes, she had her "Thasmin is canon" ribbon; it was the first thing she mentioned, to much applause. Given her by interviewer Riley Silverman

She talked about representation, understanding it as an Asian actor and why it matters to see characters like you on the media you watch.

And it was just a relaxed and comfortable interview. Riley mentioned at lobbycon that Mandip appreciated Riley had really listened to what she said, more than most interviewers do, which Riley noted as sad. [That's the trouble with prepared questions. Riley is a standup comic, so she's better at improv.]

I feel like I should have more for Sacha but his interview was before Mandips and the interviewer's questions weren't as good.

He has tremendous respect for and spent a lot of time with Waris Hussein. (Who said he did a good job, except while watching rehearsal "I was more posh."

Sacha joking about his not-posh Mancunian (Manchester) accent: he's the first Master not to call himself Maaaahst-ah with that initial posh a-sound. He's from a small village in Manchester, misses it.

Talked a lot about variable modes of his Master, that rather than wearing latex masks he rips off, he likes to settle into other roles, other lives, almost as if he's trying to escape being himself — he's the "Master of disguise" and keeps acting in new ways so you're never quite sure which is the real him.

Got down into his mind a little bit, being resentful of not being appreciated, old friends/enemies with the Doctor, etc etc etc.

Suggested a wild idea— with canon changing/refreshing in weird ways — he could be the next Doctor (I almost think he meant his Master; he's still learning the lore. But he was joking around.)

Asked if he had a controversial take on the Master, what he would have his Master say, he kind of curled around the mike and did a tortured "I love you, Doctor" which would have caused several shippers' heads to explode. I'm not sure he is aware of the shipping, although I suspect by the end of this weekend, he'll be informed.

He and the interviewer had mentioned therapy at some point, so they concluded that perhaps s14 should include the Doctor and the Master in couples therapy.

219 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The AU Two Doctors 😍

241 notes - Posted September 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[greetings-from-telly-hole]

Regular Anthony

[absoloutenonsense]

Hiiiiii

Hope you're doing well<3333

Can we get a new snippet pleaseeeee 🥺👉👈

On literally anything you're working on, I'm kinda craving the content!! 💖

Craving content from me??? 🥺💖 That's very lovely, absolutely you can get a snippet. Anyone want to get to know Au Pair Louis a bit better?

*

“How did you get into painting?” Harry asks him when he sits back down. 

Louis lets out a quiet laugh at that. “I think I was always going to get into painting.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows and gestures for him to continue.

“Right so,” Louis says. “I got into mischief a lot when I was a kid. Nothing truly terrible, but you know, I was unsupervised a lot, and the oldest, so I got into some things I wasn’t supposed to get into. My mum tried all sorts of stuff to keep me engaged at home so I wouldn’t go out and mess about with me mates, and-- What? What are you looking at me like that for?”

Harry’s grin widened. “Nothing. You just sounded very British there.”

“I am British,” Louis says, sounding confused and mildly offended. 

“I know! You just… you sound so French a lot of the time, sometimes I just forget.”

“Hm,” Louis hums, like he’s trying to decide if he should still be offended by that statement. He must decide not to be because he nods. “I think I told you before, I spent my summers with my grandparents a little ways South. And I’ve lived here full time for five years, so I’ve got a lot of that in my accent now.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Harry’s quick to say. “I like it. Reminds me of home.”

“Oh,” Louis says. Looking down at his lap, he clears his throat. 

“Anyway, sorry, continue.”

“Right. So, uh, there was this after school program when I was about twelve or thirteen, and you could do football or arts or other stuff I don’t remember. I was going to do football, at first, but then a girl I had a crush on was doing art, so I decided to go with that, figuring I could switch out in a couple of weeks once I got my flirting in and she knew who I was.”

Harry smiles, picturing a tiny Louis flirting with a girl while they both drew love hearts.

“But the teacher, Mrs. Curran, she was just so lovely and let us go to whichever kind of art we wanted. When I picked up the paints, she sat with me for a while, talking me through how to mix colours, and layering, and perspective. I got hooked on seeing things come to life out of nothing. We couldn’t really afford canvases and paints and fancy brushes for me to have at home, but Mrs. Curran let me use the school’s supplies when I wanted.”

“That’s lovely,” Harry says. 

Louis nods. “Then it was like I started seeing a calling towards art everywhere. My nan took me to the art museum in London and I spent hours and hours just staring at the paintings. Documentaries on telly about famous artists seemed to be on more frequently. I saw brighter colours that I wanted to capture. It felt inevitable.”

Harry watches the soft smile on Louis’ face as he looks off to the side. Quiet passion and love for something you get to do and create. Harry understands that. 

“When I got my first job, I started buying all this paint and a few canvases. I painted over them quite a few times so I could have new space to work on, but I heard the renaissance lads did it all the time.” Louis winks at him. Harry feels a thrill run up his spine and automatically sits forward more. “When I graduated, instead of going to uni, I came to Paris and took a couple of art courses. That’s how I met Zayn. We worked side jobs for enough money to pay for our rent and food and wine and spent all the extra time drawing and painting. I watched people a lot. Not in a creepy way, just... “ He pauses, like he’s trying to find the words. “People express so much when they’re just being themselves, going about their day like normal. I became really captivated by those expressions. I’d draw them while I was out and then rush home to paint them.”

There’s so much excitement and light in his eyes. 

“What happened?” Harry asks, even if something in his gut is telling him he shouldn’t. 

Louis shrugs and swirls the wine in his glass again. “Scraping by and living off my art got hard, so I looked for better paying jobs and those took up more of my time. I tried to get work teaching art to kids, which was great for a while -- combining two things I love a whole lot. Eventually that got hard to manage too. I wasn’t doing much of my own painting because I had made it my job and not in a fun way. I still loved working with kids so I thought I’d try my hand at being an au pair. Figured I could teach a few French kids English.” He smirks at Harry. “Ended up being the opposite, but still worked out in my favour, I think.”

Harry holds his glass with both hands. “Am I holding you back from your passion?” he asks. 

Louis snorts and puts his wine glass down to grab both of Harry’s hands and the glass. His fingers feel a little cold to the touch against his own. “No, ma moitié, absolutely not. You’re the only person in the world who would ask if his employee was being held back from his art by the job.”

Harry hates that phrasing. Hates that Louis thinks of Harry’s as his boss, even if it’s technically true. It doesn’t feel true. It feels like Louis is family and nothing less.

“I’m just saying we could hire some extra help so you can do more of what you love.”

Louis’ eyes shine and his face looks so fond, it almost makes Harry forget what they’re talking about. He’s so beautiful. 

“I’m the help. And I love this job very much. You give me time off whenever I ask for it--”

“Which is never,” Harry interrupts. 

Louis ignores him. “I don’t pay for a single thing, and get to live in this beautiful house--”

“That was always a part of the role.” 

“Shh,” Louis giggles. “You’re not letting me talk.”

“Sorry,” Harry says sulkily. Louis rubs his thumbs along the edges of his fingers. 

“I never want for anything here. It feels like a dream to be able to do this every day. Wake up in this house, spend time with and teach three of the brightest, most amazing girls I’ve ever met in my life.” He squeezes Harry’s hands to emphasize his points. “I have time to paint on my days off, and it seems like a new stack of canvases mysteriously appears outside of my bedroom door every couple of months.”

Harry tries hard not to blush at that. It’s not that he thought Louis wouldn’t notice --he hoped he would, actually, and that would remind him how important he was to everyone in the house-- but it feels different being on a list of very good things that make him like their situation. 

“Even when it’s hard,” Louis says, sliding his hands up a little to hold Harry’s wrists and part of his forearms. “I know I get to be here with all of you. I love the girls so much and I love--” he stops abruptly, blinking a little fast. He speaks slower as he says, “I love it here. There’s hardly anything else I could ask for.”

Harry wants to kiss him more than anything in the world. 

Louis pulls his hands away, running one of them through his hair and looking towards the oven. “Short rib is probably almost done. Let me check.”

He stands and Harry gently grabs his elbow until he looks at him. “If there is anything,” Harry says. “I’ll give it to you.”

Louis looks very sad then. “Ma moitié,” he starts. But then he’s interrupted by beeping of the timer. He looks behind him and lets out a shaky sigh. He turns back with a smile Harry sees often, one that doesn’t quite seem bright enough to be genuine. Louis pats Harry’s hand lightly and Harry lets go. They pull away from each other as Louis says, “Do you want more wine with dinner?”

It takes too long for Harry to answer. “I think I’ll just have water.”

“Good,” Louis says, pulling on the oven mits. “Yes, me too.”

[seaweedinthebrain]

my headcanons for harry and neville, a rarepair i just found out about but already think is the softest

this got Long but bear with me here, they're two of my golden era favourites and I'm a sucker for some peaceful and cute fluffy love

they become really close friends once both go back to hogwarts for eighth year. in the nights harry wakes up sweating from nightmares and neville just can't sleep, they sit in the common room together

sometimes they talk about the deep stuff neither ever had a chance to, knowing the other can relate to at least some of it. (it also helps that hermione has put everyone she knows in contact with some wizarding mental health clinics cause we all know she would). sometimes neville will ramble about random facts or interesting books about herbology and harry just sits there and watches the way his eyes shine when he's allowed to be passionate. sometimes harry will ramble about quidditch or DADA and neville will sit there and listen to the excitement in his voice. and sometimes they just sit in silence and enjoy the company

harry gives up on the ideia of becoming an auror (that boy has had enough action and danger in his life, let him have some peace and quiet), so minnie mcg and the current DADA professor write him a recommendation letter for the DADA course in the Advanced Studies Academy (I don't really care if that really exists in the wizarding world, to me it does and it's kinda like uni) and he's accepted. neville is recommended by professor sprout and minnie for the herbology course in the same Academy

instead of looking for flats separately in the same city, they talk and decide it would be simpler if they just shared. the summer after graduation is spent looking for flats. except they don't find any that actually feels like them and the city is so big and there's so much noise and crowds

so one afternoon, harry shows up at madam longbottom's doorstep and takes neville to see a place, all the way saying "look, it's not exactly a flat and it's not in the neighbourhood we were aiming for BUT trust me, you'll understand when you see it"

and that's how two 19-year-old boys end up moving to an old but charming cottage on the outskirts of a forest near a small lake. the main reasons they discarted all other options upon seeing it include but are not limited to: a big bright kitchen for harry to have fun in, a small greenhouse that needs some loving, lots of space for teddy to play in when he grows a bit and the half an hour distance to the city, which does wonders to both their introverted and anxious natures

they stock the house with plants, books and old vinils. the walls are filled with photos of their friends, families and professors. by the front door, there's the moving photo minnie gave them, the graduation photo of the class of 1978, with both their sets of parents, surrounded by friends, smiling. hanging in the living room there's a gryffindor-themed banner that dean painted as a housewarming gift. jumpers and flannel shirts are tossed over chairs to be picked up later. there's a warm blanket permanently kept on the couch for movie nights on the muggle telly. neville starts growing vegetables and spices so harry can cook without driving all the way to town every week. there's a weird pendant hanging over the back door that they don't even what is the purpose of but leave there anyway cause it's colorful and was a gift from luna

neither of them had good childhoods and neither were offered much affection and support growing up, so they manage to find that in each other. be it through physical affection, bringing home little things they think the other will like or simply saying nice stuff

they genuinely make each other better. they talk about the bad stuff and laugh about the good. neville is the soft voice and the hand on harry's arm that calm his temper, while harry is the hug and warm presence that ease neville's constant worry

their first kiss happens on the exact 0:00 minute between their birthdays while they're stargazing on the grass behind the cottage. teddy, who is staying with them for a few days, is peacefully sleeping in his brightly-painted room. the summer air is fresh around them. fireflies are loose. the kiss is soft and sweet. there's nothing of the fear of ruining their friendship, it just feels like a natural turn that doesn't really change much of their dynamic except for the fact that they can now openly stare at each others eyes and say sappy things

neville is panromantic and asexual and harry just knows he's bi but doesn't really care about all the sex stuff, so their relationship (which is official now) never really gets past kisses and caressing touches, but that's exactly how they want it

now let's please take a moment for the domestic scene: 185cm tall harry potter, saviour of the wizarding world and defense against the dark arts academic, drying cloth hanging from his shoulder, dancing around in their kitchen with 170cm tall neville longbottom, hero of the wizarding world and herbology academic, who has a spot of dirt on the tip of his nose and freckles from the spring sun lighting up the front garden. you're welcome.

a random afternoon right after they graduate (with honours) from the Advanced Studies Academy, minnie shows up for tea and casually drops the information that the DADA and herbology positions at hogwarts are now vacant

welcome to the hogwarts staff, professor potter and professor longbottom, it's not as if the other professors had been planning on this all along, of course, nothing of the sort

they still go back to the cottage for the weekends, summer and winter holidays, and take time to travel around the world, sometimes for research on their areas of expertise, sometimes just for fun. during the school year, they drop by the three broomsticks to catch up with hannah or do pub nights with their friends

one summer night, they're watching a muggle movie cuddled on the couch and neville blurts out "haz, do you ever think about getting married?". that's how they got engaged. the ceremony and party are small and both held on their own backyard. teddy carries the rings and luna is the flower girl. they don't choose best-men and instead just divide their friends in two groups and call all of them the "grooms-maids"

they never get any pets, since they're basically only home like three months of the year. harry splits teddy's custody with andromeda cause she's old and definitely can use some help. ginny marries luna, dean marries seamus, lavender (who is alive and proud of her scar and eventual wolfish inclination) marries parvati, ron marries hermione. they're all happy, healthy and constantly meeting up

they have teddy every weekend and holidays

they go for family lunch at the burrow every sunday

they manage to be vastly different and absurdly alike at the same time, as seamus once put out

they're soft and happy and comfortable and ridiculously in love

the fan base for this pair is so small and I don't even know their shipp name (I've read "pottbottom" somewhere but I don'tthink there's one single name for them ) however I am totally converted, give me all the harry x neville soft content

also, I obviously made a playlist cause nothing in my head functions without a soundtrack so here

[telli1206]

Happy birthday, Telli! 🥰🥰♥️♥️ I just wanted to leave you a little message for the morning (unless you're up really late haha) to say again, because it can never be said enough, that I love you! And I'm really grateful to have met you, not just for all the fun we have with sharing our writing, but for the fact that you, all around, even when we're not talking fandom stuff, are just a wonderful person to know.

Honestly, I'd love you even if the fandom stuff was all there was to it, because your writing alone has been a great source of laughter and inspiration and comfort since we met. I cherish that, but something more that I will never forget is how you went above and beyond for me when this year began with such a terrible unexpected grief.

I really, deeply appreciate that you gave me a space to talk about that loss with so much compassion and empathy. You helped me keep it together more than you know. I'll forever be thinking about you when I see a yorkie in town. You know why. 💕 Seriously, thank you so much for all of that. I still can't talk long about things long without crying (I am aggressively blinking as I write this heh), but... it doesn't I'm not healing. And I know I wouldn't be feeling half as much myself as I am today if not for you and your kindness and your willingness to listen.

You, my dear Telli, embody the many good, warm, genuine qualities that remind me the best of what people can be. And why it's worth pushing through the darker parts of the year. Because that's never all there is to it. For me, looking back at this year, there will always be a lot of pain, but just as well, there will also be you and your sunshine.

All that to say... I wish you the most wonderful birthday and, more than that, a fantastic year full of endless love and inspiration. 💖💖

You certainly have my love. Happy birthday, Telli. 😘💕

Sparrow 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Thank you so SO much for this! I swear, you are without a doubt the sweetest, kindest, and most genuine person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am so grateful to this fandom for bringing us together. You already wrote me that fantastic Jaylos fic, and then this message too?!?! I'm tearing up - you have given me the best birthday gifts I could ever ask for 🥰🥰🥰

Thank you for sharing your writing, your art, and your beautiful little pups with me! I've enjoyed every minute of our conversations. I get just as much joy and comfort from them as you, I hope you know that 💖

Again, thank you for the birthday wishes, thank you for the beautiful fic, and just thank you for being YOU. Always so much love for you, Sparrow. I can't thank you enough for making me feel so special today 😊💓

[redheid]

S supposed to be the most dismal fucking place you can imagine spending the holidays: cooped up in a dingey little flat wi a band of fellow smackheads who had all, completely unplanned but completely expectedly, upped and left their own different little homes aftir conveniently wanting tae go oan a Christmas eve walk tae breathe in the crisp air in an act of good health at the same time, not tae come back till the middle of the night tae whoever they’d lied to in the first place tae get oot. Tryna pass off whitever smack induced quiver they’ve taken thit’s letting them knock everything down in their war path in a nefarious attempt to act as the notorious bearded fucker thit should be climbing in through the chimney later thit night. (God forbid the ones thit go home tae a place wi kids in the house actually staying up tae try n catch a glimpse of the guy in red only tae find their brother or uncle or cousin tae be sneaking in through the backdoor in a total fuckin daze n no even noticing them and their bright peeking kiddy eyes peering oot through their bedroom doors before the fail to be santa collapses as close tae the door as they can, once they’ve made sure they’ve absolutely made it through the threshold of the house.)

The dismal place they’ve come from is dreamy tae me, probably tae the smackheads alike. The aftermath is the grim boxing day of the visit.

Swanney’s place’s got smoke stains seeped so far intae the walls you can hardly tell the colour they were painted in the first place. The respect tae the physicalities of the place went swiftly down from there, once people realised a kick in the wall by an angry punter or whoever had come storming the place was either never noticed or never bothered tae get fixed, totally left fir the dust tae gather; the place became an incoherent art installation fast.

For instance, right now ah lay sprawled oot against a wall, right in the corner, the crevice of the flat where the spiders typically gather and ah squash when ah sit oan them, where if you look up tae the other wall holding you up, just tae the side, and if you squint hard enough, you can just aboot make oot a tree oan it formed from some cunt’s handprints. If you squint harder, muck a few artificial additives intae yir system thit lets you see the wonder in the simplest things, like in a grotty little flat thit stinks of piss and farts and burning, you can pretend the weary stains oan the painted greenery are colourful little specks purposely put there as decoration. They nearly look like ornaments and you can nearly act like Swanney’s taken note of a calendar or the weather outside and dressed the place up for the festivities.

Obviously some artsy fucker came in one time thinking high enough oaf themsels tae start the handy masterpiece but no enough to finish it, it was no work of our Mother Superior, but it’s a tantalising thought tae imagine him wi a bowl of paint and a green hand. The furthest his goodwill extends for the holiday season is not booting you oot immediately once you’ve got your stuff (dependent on how many freaks and geeks had made their way to his place to score likes), not until he runs ootay walls fir the lot tae fall down on does he point tae the door and tell us tae get tae fuck.

Ah was one of the first few tae arrive, see, and ah had the cognisant joy of watching the rest trickle intae the place through a very slow set of blinking eyelids while I masel was in and oot oaf a daze. Ah was well fuckin intae ma experience n well oan ma way down when ah saw Swanney pointing at the door and talking aboot wanting the place clear.

— Ah’m no having any sleepers, Swanney sais. The only reason ah hear thit one, come to consciousness enough tae even register it as a sound directed anywhere in the vicinity oaf me, was through Sick Boy’s stinging voice next tae us near enough fucking pleading tae the fucker.

— Where’s the spirit, Swanney?

— Santy can come kicking down the chimney if he likes, Simon, but he’s no invited either,

Unfortunately, ah’m in no state tae argue, though ah had planned accordingly: tae be a sleeper during the day. Naw a dozer, actually. There was no sleeping, but the dozing state was paramount tae ma festive experience. Ma Rudolph riding time in the sky.

Ah was there at the perfect time tae ride is oot and still have a happy aftermath tae deal wi when ah was tae head back home under suspicion not at all tae be compared tae the likes of those stumbling in ruining the night when they pulled the Christmas tree and bunting, should the household be so inclined tae put it up, down wi them when they came back home and made their bed on the floor. Under no fucking circumstances would Mark Renton be found drooling intae the carpet oan Christmas morning.

Ah stand up without fuss. Simon is still rattling tae the side of me and ah nearly crumble intae the wall which is not at all of my own accord (it is in my best interest tae stay as firmly upright as ah can). Ah nod a see ya tae Swanney n mibbe mumble a happy holidays.

…

– Disnae seem fair is awl ah’m saying, Rents.

Ah nod a simple nod ah’m not at all mentally tied intae.

– Not thit ah care anyways, the cunt.

Ah nod again.

– Ah’ve got a lovely supper awaiting me.

Another fucking nod.

– Baccalà.

Again, ah nod nod nod.

– Cod. A lovely, salted cod. Not thit you’d know anything about thit wi your plea for animal rights.

– Ah’m vegetarian, Si.

– Vege-fucking-whitever, it’s no good fir yir health. Examplo numero uno, he points a cuntish finger tae hissel. Ah don’t know how he has the energy. The strained finger runs from his face and over tae me. – And you.

– Ah just dinnae like the taste.

– S no very à la Christmas is awl ah’m saying. It’s the time tae feast, abbondanza, Rents. Whit, you forcing your poor madre tae cook you thit tofu shite?

Ah don’t know how he has the appetite. Physically for the feast he’s claiming or mentally for the bothering he’s doing tae me. Ah shudder. It’s fucking freezing.

– Ah just eat around the turkey. Potatoes and carrots.

He tsks all better than. – Potatoes and carrots, fucking waste.

He continues but ah keep my arms tucked nicely around ma shaking body as we get tae the bottom of the road and ease the sound of his voice ootay ma heid.

Ah look over ma shoulder and catch a few more people heading outay Swanney’s, ah bet they’re no looking tae dae half as much talking as my solid companion, but I also suspect they’re not exactly people ah’m looking for company from, thit even if they did want tae talk as much as Sick Boy they winnae have half as much tae say. Who the fuck does?

Ah watch as the cold hits them and their arms shoot up too to cocoon themselves in a solitary embrace. Fair few have jackets oan them, thick enough ones are few and far between. Ah have oan ma bomber jacket, far too short and far too fucking thin tae do any good but make it look like ah’ve been existing from my hand-me-downs aged ten. Not so much fabric thit it would make a difference if I had ten of them oan.

The buzzing breaking through the cold turns intae a sharp prod in my arm. Ah look away from Swanney’s wi a scowl back at Si, the proprietor of said prod. – Whit? ah snap belligerently.

– Knew you were no fucking listening, fucking waster.

– Fucking cunt, ah mutter.

It disnae persuade him tae stop, disnae deter the fucker at awl. Ah let him go oan and oan till we make it tae our ain separate crossroads and head our ain separate ways. Wave a merry Christmas and he says something about the meat feast thit is Christmas day, whit his sister’s are cooking, and ah listen politely fir the fact ah cannae be bothered tae tell him how much ah could no care less until he finished up and ah stumble back to Fort Renton.

…

Aftir we got the flat off the housing department oan behalf of our Wee Davie’s various fucking various illnesses, the weeks approaching the end of December were awl aboot making solid attempts tae make it look homely, tae really work wi the tree we’ve had since Billy was born n give Cathy Renton something to focus oan other than when we were getting Davie home and if his bed was ready fir him and who was going to spoon feed him whitever they were planning tae. It was aboot showing how much the place was cared for as if people were watching (which, actually, ah suppose a good few were – the Curran’s a few doors down were hawkeyed and insisting we only kept Wee Davie in our care, living wi us like, until we got the new place tae live free of charge and shipped him oot the second we got the keys as if we’d pawn him off like thit).

This is the first Christmas there’s no really any of thit, even if ah see Mr Curran’s radge fucking face peeping ootay his blinds at us.

The measly tree dinnae go up until the 21st despite attempts from ma faither tae encourage Ma intae it n even when it did go up, she dinnae even really care thit the tinsel was looking the scraggiest it ever had. No thought tae go and get replacements.

Ma faither took the ‘good’ side of the tree n put it facing the front windae, as if people like the Curran’s were actually coming up tae ours and press their faces up on the glass tae see how we were treating the place aftir Davie’s death. Whether we were packing up tae give it up fir someone else who needs it.

Well fuck thit. Finders keepers losers fucking weepers. Ma faither’s intense need tae show the outside world our supposed love and respect fir the holidays, however, left the sight for sore eyes side of the tree fir us tae look at in the living room. He’s been squinting past the plasticy brambles and the shedding metallic tinsel thit’s covering the floor so he can watch the telly in peace fir the past two days and pretending it disnae bother him thit he has tae do it.

The good old Cathy Renton has been sitting desolate as can be oan the settee oan the other side of the room, pretending tae watch the telly and not at awl pretending tae care aboot the tree and lack of quality decor.

S fucking depressing if you ask me. Ah immediately miss Swanney’s when ah step through the door.

– Where’ve you been? Fucking Billy, doss cunt, waiting fir me tae get back. He looks like he’s been sitting in thit chair at the dining table since the moment ah left waiting for a festive confrontation.

– Last minute shopping wus it, son? Ma mother sais from the settee. Ah didn’t see her when ah came in but now thit a look at her ah see the blinking colourful lights off the tree bouncing off her wrinkled face.

Ah weakly present a facsimile of a laugh n a smile. – Something like it, yeah.

– Where’s yir shoppin then? Billy snidely remarks. This gets ma mother’s attention and ah see her brows take tae work and fold inwards at the hapless confusion.

Ah dinnae have the brain power fir this.

– Leave it, ma faither sais contritely from his chair and squints further past the tree. He also looks like he’s been firmly planted there since ah left however many hours ago ah did, glued tae the telly like he has been fir days, avoiding the sincere lack of coughing and the sound of ma mother slapping wee Davie’s back in the next room this year. Doof doof doof doof nae more.

It’s Billy’s bedroom now. The worst noise we’ll get from thit room has already been heard when Sharon, his new burd, comes over.

Fuck if ah’d ever bring a burd round tae muh ma’s house. I eye the fucker, repulsive.

– What? he says, as if he’d been up in ma brain wi ma thinking, as if he had free scope over thit domain. Ah sneer back but pretend it’s a smile because ah know ma’s still watching us outay the corner of her eye. She’s especially sentimental this year. Her two boys, her two wee yins. We’ve been partly trying tae get oan fir the sake of her this year. Course the picky fucker waits till crimbo eve till his resentment towards me rears its ugly head aftir awl the arguments we’ve ignored wi our ma in the room the past few weeks. It’s been bubbling up inside of him just like it has me and ah know he’s looking for the free second tae set up his sniper oan ma forehead.

– Boys, ma faither speaks. Ah look ovir and see he dinnae even do us the grace of looking from the tv. Ah look back at Billy who’s rolling his eyes at us, ah ball up a fist and pretend it’s just me tightening ma grip oan the shopping back ah did no at awl come back wi.

– 10am, ma da sais, – sharp. Mass, back here, dinner oan n eaten then sat back down here round the tv for 3pm.

– Aye, Billy says. The fucking suck up. Wouldnae miss the queen’s talk and a seat right next tae ma faither nodding the fuck along taw whitever the old trout has tae say fir the world. Highlight of their fucking year those ten minutes of insincere spiel wi cases and cases of gold surrounding her are. – Cannae wait.

– Aye, ah say, – riveting stuff. Ah’m always hold ma breath when she pauses fir too long case she keels ovir once n for awl. Christmas day, like, drama of it.

– S pre-recorded, ye dippit. Billy scowls at me. Ah cheer masel on in ma heid. Point Mark Renton.

– Ah know, but…

– Why yis sayin it then?

Ah scowl back. Never fucking mind.

– Please, Ma sais. She’s settled intae the flow of keeping her eyes directly on the glowing screen. Ah cannae quite bring myself tae lean intae thit, Christmas eve wi the family or no.

Ah nod an awright. Billy gets his eyes off me but not at awl before giving me the condescending nod of the century. Ah smile back thit same sneering smile from before and say – Ah’ll be going tae ma room then.

Billy tsks before anyone else gets a word in, ah glower at the side of his head but realise both of the parental figures have decided tae take the goodbye in visually and are looking right at me.

– Bed so soon? ma Da sais. – You’ve just got back.

– Excited for santy, Ma says in faux delight. There’s a dead enjoyment tae her voice thit’s got me thinking she’s been stuck on the lack of a doof doof doof doof in the next room too. Ah go along wi it fir the sake of fragility of any sense of okayness in this household.

– Aye, wanna be up early. Try and catch the man in red in the act.

This seems to appease them, Ma and Da at least. She gives a half-hearted smile and ma faither gives no outward reaction which seems tae be the best case. Billy the fucking bully looks at me fir another second like he knows where the fuck ah’ve been and ah’m sure enough he does, but he lets it settle too so ah sulk off tae the privacy of a closed door.

The locks are long gone but as long as ah act the way ah’m supposed tae when ah’m oan the other side of it, the shorter the times the door gets busted down by Billy or ma faither or wi a tentative knock from muh Ma.

Ah collapse like a lump oan the bed. Thump fucking thump, ah land. Ah close ma eyes and melt intae the fucker.

It’s no long till ah hear the tv switch off. Not too much longer till ah hear Billy slam his new bedroom door shut. Believe me, ah’m glad tae have a box tae masel now, a singular bedroom, not have to listen to the snoring fucker fart himself awake every other night, but ah despise the speed in which he claimed Davie’s room. The soil was fresh on his grave and the air in the coffin was yet to turn stale before he’d started hanging up his clothes in the wardrobe.

Doof doof doof doof doof. Thit was the sound ah used tae drift off to, Davie’s chest being knocked aboot and cleared so he could make it tae the next day. Ah was always surprised he could take such a beating. He always looked so fragile.

Naw, fuck this. Ah’m sooner gonna hear the footsteps of the immortal creep from the north pole tiptoeing across the roof delivering good and peace tae the Renton’s than the doof doof doof again. Ah shut ma eyes tighter, consider moving fir a few minutes tae organise masel enough tae put oan a record, but ah unfortunately spent all ma energy oan behaving as acceptably as possible when ah had entered the home. The rest of it had been spent making a dig at the queen tae piss off Billy in his suck up time wi our Da, who the fuck’s acting like the queen’s speech is the best part of a Christmas day anyways? Fucking idiot.

Ah ball ma hands up and shove them intae ma sockets till ah see stars. Ah have a headache coming oan. Ah let the balled fists fall down ontae the duvet either side of me (thump thump) and ah squint at the far end of ma room and ma green tinny locker turned closet. Ah reckon if ah asked Billy nice enough and gave him the lock fir it, he’d wait fir me to climb in and lock me in there till the 24th turned to the 25th to the 26th. If he were feeling especially nice he’d let me stay in there till the new year passed and he’d simply slide me the odd plate of dinner tae sustain me; let me wither away, but give just enough tinned whatever tae stay alive till ah had some kind of clarity and stopped hearing the doof doof fucking doof reverberating through my skull thit’s no fucking there.

Dear the red man thit would be climbing through our chimney if we had one, may you bring me somewhere cosier and more isolated fir the holiday season. Mibbe tae an undiscovered island, nothing too fancy: a few rocks, a couple palm trees and a coconut fir me tae drink outay. This year may you give me a bit of peace and fucking quiet. Leave me a note tae say yir coming and ah’ll slip outay ma room and leave the windae open a crack fir you tae sneak in through. Kind regards, Mark Renton.

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part five

chapter summary: It’s time for some apologies (aPAULogies!). You and Paul have a chat about student debt, Parliament, and showers. John tries to convince everyone that he won’t break the telly (again), Ringo tries to convince everyone that he’s NOT an old man, and you just wish George would drop that goddamn towel. 

warnings: george is almost naked but not naked enough (sigh)

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four

these chapters are just getting longer, huh. also, queen makes a more... definitive appearance.

Paul’s chosen the corner booth. It’s the spot that you all usually cram into, obnoxious and loud and always on the verge of being kicked out. Sitting there all by himself with nothing but a cup of coffee, he looks very small and lonely and you feel a pang of guilt.

He glances up when you sit down next to him. “Back for round two?” Paul says, and despite this he still scoots over to give you more room.

“No.” Sighing, you resist your fight-or-flight instinct. You’ve always hated confrontation. “I just wanted to apologize. I probably overreacted today and I shouldn’t have, um… ”

“Ripped me a new one?”

You laugh. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I’ve just been so stressed about midterms and all that--which isn’t an excuse for being an asshole, I know. It’s been such a long day, with Ringo having to go to the hospital and John almost killing us in your car and George, uh… actually, George hasn’t done anything. But… forgive me?” You try your best puppy eyes, although that’s more of Paul’s forte.

He pretends to think about it, but he’s already got that smile on his face. It’s soft and accentuates the roundness of his cheeks and you can see what John fell in love with.

“Of course I do. I could never stay angry at you for too long.” You let out a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding. “And I’m sorry, as well. I hope some of your papers were salvageable? I’ll pay for your textbooks, really--”

“With the thousands of pounds of student debt you’ve got? No way.” You nudge Paul teasingly. “No, it wasn’t that bad. Besides, if I don’t have most of that stuff memorized by now I’ll be fucked for midterms.”

“It’s the damn Tories, I tell you!” A businessman at the table over shoots him a dirty look and you have to muffle your snort behind your hands. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk politics. How’s George?” At the last bit, Paul leans in, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially.

Just great, still want to snog him senseless. Nothing new. “Why don’t you ask George yourself, you live with him. He’s still pretty pissed about having to take cold showers in the morning.”

“Please, no more. I’ve gotten yelled at about it enough already.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender and you’re reminded uncannily of John. They really are two sides of the same coin… “Morning’s the only time I can shower, anyway. It’s not fun waking up early, you know, but I do have to get the studio time. I’ve got, like, a million art pieces to turn in next week. It’s killing me.”

Though he says this with a rueful grin, you can see there’s bags under his eyes. With all the drama going on, you hadn’t stopped to think about what Paul must be going through. You internally scold yourself not to be so wrapped in your own concerns next time.

“I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, well. The woes of an art major. But when I asked about George, I wasn’t talking about our little row.”

You ignore that. “Showering every day is bad for your skin, y’know.”

“First off, that’s my phrase. Secondly, you’re changing the subject.”

“You’re the one changing the subject!” Don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush. “Look, can’t you try and compromise with him? Like, taking turns or something. You can have the first shower every other day and ditto for George!” You smack the table excitedly. “Damn, I’m a genius.”

Paul laughs and downs the rest of his coffee. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to him about it.” Standing, he stretches and tosses the cup into the trash. “You think the flat is safe enough to go back?”

You mirror his actions, donning your fleece jacket. “Probably. I’ll protect you, though, don’t worry.”

“My hero!” He swoons and loops his arm through yours as you step out of the cafe. The rest of the walk back, he doesn’t mention George again and you think he’s forgotten all about it. That is, until you reach the apartment. Paul unlocks the door and gestures for you to go first. When you brush by him, he leans down to your ear and says it so casually you don’t even register the meaning at first.

“I’ll get the truth out of you one of these days, y’know.”

Paul winks and though he doesn’t say exactly what the ‘truth’ is, you think you have a pretty good idea what he’s talking about.

***

The next day, you’re sat at the kitchen table over a bowl of cereal and some salvaged papers, not unlike yesterday morning. John is once again swiping through his phone. Ringo’s there, too, having scrutinized the entire kitchen floor this time before sitting down.

“TikTok is a load of shit,” John announces, throwing his cell down.

“Yet that doesn’t stop you from being on it for hours on end.”

“It’s addicting! All that… hitting the woah and- and grenade stuff.”

“You mean renegade.”

You both shoot a surprised look at Ringo, who pouts. “What? I can be hip too.”

“Okay, the fact that you said ‘hip’ kinda contradicts that.”

Ringo sticks his tongue out at you and you snicker. John clears his throat, steering the conversation back to him. Attention whore.

“Aaaanyway. As I was saying. Our phones are all the government’s rubbish way of brainwashing us. And that’s why I propose… drum roll, please.”

Ringo obliges. You note that he keeps a rather good tempo.

“Game Night Part Two!”

He’s met with silence.

“Uh, let me think about it-- no.”

“What? Why not!”

You tap your finger to your chin. “Did you already forget getting piss-drunk and missing your American Lit quiz the next day? Or spilling Fanta all over my /nice/ white tee? Or doing that?” John’s gaze follows your gesture to the tv in the living room with a great crack down the middle.

“And you’re a sore loser,” Ringo adds. John frowns and throws a cornflake at him.

“George was definitely cheating-”

“Abupbupbup! I’m not done.” You point at his sour expression. “Don’t you remember the noise complaint we got from our neighbor?”

John actually pauses at this. “You mean Paul’s classmate? The one that does graphic design? Not that you’d know it from the way he dresses like a fashion major.”

“His name is Freddie.” Ringo supplies helpfully. Ringo was always good at names.

“Yeah, he actually knocked on our door and everything. That was embarrassing, John.”

A scoff makes its way through John’s pursed lips. “He’s got no right telling us to keep the noise down when his bloody flat houses an entire fucking band. I can hear them going at it until two am sometimes and I don’t call the police on them.”

“They’re quite good.” As if to accentuate his point, Ringo taps a familiar rhythm with his spoon. Must be from one of their latest songs.

John inhales and you can tell that this’ll turn into a scuffle if you don’t steer the conversation away soon.

“Anyway! We don’t want another repeat of last month’s shenanigans. I’d like to be able to keep watching Netflix on a functioning telly, thank you very much. You’re outnumbered, Johnny.”

“Well, actually.”

You both swivel to look at Ringo: you in horror and John with glee. The oldest boy is usually the tie breaker, the swing-state if you want to be American about it. If he throws his weight behind John, it’ll be over.

“I think it would be a good idea. For morale, you know. We’ve been at each other’s throats all of yesterday, and havin’ another Game Night might get everyone on good terms again.” Damn you, Ringo, you think, damn you and your altruism. John, in every sense of the saying, looks exactly like the cat that’s got the canary. He swings to you with the stupidly smug look on his face.

“The match goes to Lennon! Take that,” he gloats, and you fight the urge to strangle him across the table.

“When you fail Professor Ono’s midterms because you’re too hungover to tell Walt Whitman from Langston Hughes, don’t go crawling to me,” you hiss.

John makes to retort but he’s cut short by the sound of footsteps running down the hall. Your brain barely has time to conjure up the weird feeling of deja vu before George skids into the kitchen.

He’s wearing nothing but a towel. Again. But this time, he’s smiling, and the brilliance of it cuts through your sleep-addled brain and curls up somewhere below your rib cage.

“I just took a shower!”

“Good for you, mate,” John snarks, staring ruefully at the phone in the center of the table--did he change his phone case or something? It looks different, somehow. You can see his fingers twitching toward it.

George ignores him. “I just took a warm shower. A real shower with warm water.”

Yes, you can see that from the bit of steam still rising from his shoulders and his hair, which is now curling slightly in the colder temperature. There’s a droplet of water making its way from George’s very naked chest down to his very fit stomach--how he has abs, you have no idea, since the boy inhales food like Kirby--and you look away sharply before your gaze can wander any further.

“A warm water shower,” he repeats.

Ringo nods. “Ah, yes. The poison. The poison for Kuzco. The poison chosen specifically to kill Kuzco.” He pauses, looking you in the eye rather seriously, and you say the next bit together.

“Kuzco’s poison.”

The two of you double over, giggling like schoolgirls. George, however, looks confused.

“What are they on about?”

“Some American film.” John finally gives in and snatches up the phone laying on the table. Something flashes across his face. You know that look, and nothing good ever follows it. “Smile, Georgie.”

There’s the click of a photo being taken.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Nothing.” John pushes his chair from the table and stands up rather abruptly. The look on his face is growing into something… wicked. “Nothing at all. I will be in Paul and I’s room. Doing nothing.” He surveys you all once more with that good-for-nothing grin, cradles the phone to his chest, and then sprints down the hall past an even more confused George. The door closes and locks with a decisive click.

The three of you look at each other questioningly. Ringo grunts something unintelligible and shovels more cornflakes into his mouth. George shrugs and turns to head back to the bathroom.

He’s already halfway down the hall before he freezes.

“Wait a minute. Was that my phone?”

[purplekiwis]

“From the Dining Table” - Chapter I

Hello everyone, I’ve been enjoying reading your fics a lot, especially now with the whole quarentine thing, they never fail to bring me joy. I thought it would be fun to start writing some myself and that’s why I created this blog. I haven’t written a fic in over 10 years ( I promise I’m not that old, I was just a very imaginative child.) Anyway, I wrote this one based of a dream I had and then I realized it reminded me a lot of Harry’s song, so I just kept on going with the theme. This is a pretty long one, it’s going to be 3 Chapters. Today I’m gonna post the first one, I hope you (whoever you are that’s reading this) enjoy it and I would be super happy to get any feedback from you.❤️

You can read Chapter II here You can read Chapter III here Word Count: 8k Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Sexual References

Summary: Friends to Lovers; Y/N is a graphic designer working at a small studio in London. She lives a pretty ordinary life, considering she also happens to be friends with an internationally known musician. Which is fine... Until she finds herself having to face the feelings she developed for her friend, who's the last person she expected to fall in love with.

Chapter I - The House Party

Today was just another typical Saturday for you. You had just got out of the shower and dressed in your “sleeping clothes” - an old t-Shirt and a pair of incredibly worn out leggings, and cooked something quick for dinner, since all the plans you had for the evening, and for the rest of the weekend were to lay around the house watching movies from your watch-list and trying to keep up with the episodes of your favorite series you had missed out during the week.              

However, as you were browsing through your computer, trying to figure out what Riverdale episode you hadn’t watched yet, your phone vibrated on the bedside table. You let your head fall in your hands with a weary expression, fearing that it might be one of your clients asking for changes in the work you had just delivered 2 hours ago.     You tried your hardest to ignore it, for you had already decided that you were going to save the rest of the afternoon for taking care of yourself... which was a great accomplishment since you gradually and accidentally had become a bit of a workaholic.  

It wasn’t something you were proud of... but you were a proper adult now and that’s just how adultwood is. Suddenly all your friends were busy with their families (can’t relate), their partners (no, can’t relate either) and their jobs (yes, you had one of those now) and you didn’t have much else to keep you entertained, so at least you tried to do something productive with your time.            

Okay, maybe it was possible that you were focusing on work to try not to think about how lonely you actually felt... Especially when you found yourself rubbing your own aching back after spending the whole afternoon sitting at your desk immersed in your work. Secretly wishing somebody else was there with you besides the faces painted in the unfinished artworks laying around your flat... that were yet to be amazing pieces of art one day, according to you.

The only problem was that you couldn’t manage to get yourself to actually finish them, or even to work on them for a couple of hours. Why? You didn’t really know.  

All you knew was that there was no motivaton within you to focus on the things you had once really enjoyed doing. Maybe you were too tired to have a hobby, maybe you were already over those artworks, perhaps you didn’t even like painting anymore...          

The only thing that you knew for sure of was that you had became exactly who you said you would never: A young adult working for a small company with barely any social life, let alone a stable relationship, sharing a tiny apartment with her cat and the ghosts of her past dreams and aspirations.      So I guess by now it’s safe to say that you were definitely focusing on your work to forget about how boring your life had become in the last few months...      Even thought you really didn’t want to look at your phone, your curiosity got a hold of you and you checked it… Only to find a text from your friend Harry. Seeing his name on your phone made your heart skip a beat, as you rolled around in bed so that you could take a better look at it. It had been a while since you spoke to Harry... mostly because he had been busy, and you had been trying to avoid bothering him. Knowing damn well he would probably much rather spend his free time doing something better with his free time, since he was always busy as a bee, jumping between countries and cities whilst working on several projects simultaneously.      

You considered Harry a close friend of yours... even if you didn’t talk all the time and even ghosted each other for months on occasion, until one of you broke the silence with a text or a phone call. This time, it was Harry that texted you first...      

HS: What are you up to?            

You: I was just about to watch Riverdale...          

H.S:  What is that?   

You couldn’t help but to let out a little smile. Sometimes he could still surprise you with how alienated he could be from mundane stuff. You didn’t hold it against him, you knew he had a preference for oldies when it came to the movies and music he actually payed attention to.          

You decided not to bug him about it, since you were far more interested in figuring out why he was randomly texting you at 9PM on a Saturday.          

You : It’s just a gross teen show. What about you?          

H.S: Aren’t you a bit too old for teen shows? I’m home. Been here for a couple of days, actually.

You felt a little hurt knowing that he had been home for a while and was only letting you know now, since you were usually one of the first people he wanted to see after spending long periods of time away, even if it was just to come watch the telly and catch up over bags of take-away food. You shook off the uneasy feeling. After all it wasn’t like he owed you his free time... For all you knew, he could’ve been catching up with his other friends or even have someone far more entertaining over his house.  

You : Aren’t you a bit too young to be such a grandpa?

H.S : Good news is that grandpa might actually have better plans for your night.            

You felt your cheeks warm as a fuzzy feeling started in your stomach. You noticed you had been smiling at your phone whilst thinking of what his plans could be, and when you finally got back to reality your cat was blankely staring at you, making you feel aware of how stupid you must have been looking. “What? You know it’s not like that!” You exclaimed to your cat, getting a little embarassed by your own mushy thoughts.            

Before you could answer his text he sent you another one.        

H.S: Would you like to accompany me to this thing i have?        You sat straight in your bed, but almost immidiately got up to check yourself in the mirror. Yikes, you thought. There’s no way i’m going anywhere with a face like this... In the deepest, darkest part of your brain, you added: Especially not with him.             You: What thing?

H.S: It’s just a boring house party. Please come!!! I need someone to talk to.   

You: If you want to convince me, maybe you should consider rethinking your use of adjectives. I’m sure you do... just like all the other parties, right? 🙄         

H.S: Sorry, I meant AMAZING party!!! 😊  Also, it’s not my fault everyone likes to talk to me.     You : It is. You’re too nice to them.                     

H.S: That’s why i need you to scare them away with your moody face! Are you coming? I already asked Claire to save you seat in the car.          

You looked at yourself in the mirror, kinda wishing you had known earlier because you really looked and felt too tired (and ugly, might you add) to get out of the house. Especially to go to a party where you probably knew like, 3 people in real life besides Harry. Besides, you already knew that you would feel a bit out of place there...   Because no matter how hard Harry and his friends tried to make you feel included, there was always this feeling you felt... Like everyone else was judging every single thing you did. The clothes you were wearing, the way you acted with your friends, how much booze you drinked, how many crab cakes you ate, and even how much you talked, or didn’t talk... Going to these parties had undoubtedly showed you how cold and indifferent people could be about other people’s complete existence as soon as they realized they didn’t come from the entertainment industry...           Harry had tried to explain to you that they didn’t flat out dislike you... It was just that they liked to test the waters before jumping into a friendship with someone from outside the industry, since most of them had already been through bad experiences when it came to that topic.

Y/N had never really ate that one up, but she decided it wasn’t worth the fuss of sharing her opinion out loud. She still remebered the first event she attended to with Harry, and how he and his friends had tried to give her advise on what she should and shouldn’t do... Something she hadn’t taken very well at the time, because it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to behave herself at a party just for being considered an “outsider”. She had been to lots of parties. Smaller ones, yes. With cheaper beverage options and far unhealthier selections of finger foods she could nibble guiltlessly on, but they were still parties nonetheless...          

Luckily for you, people were starting to get used to your occasional presence at their informal house events, and you managed to get along with the majority of Harry’s mates as well, what made you feel a little more confortable... However you still always got a bit nervous before going, especially when you hadn’t seen everyone in a while, which was the case that time around...

You : I feel like i could fall asleep at any given moment, so i think i’ll have to pass this one out 😔 but maybe tomorrow we could do something?      

He took a while to reply, making you wonder if he got upset at you for not wanting to go, or if he was already asking another one of his friends if they would like to go in your place... You didn’t know what option you liked the best.    Eventually, you got tired of holding your phone so you put it down, a little too harshly, what made your cat tremble with the noise. “Sorry Tilly.” You whispered, as your pet got up and curled up in your lap, while you petted her gently behind her ears. “Maybe it’s better this way… right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.         

Suddently you heard your phone ringing. Harry was calling you. You got up in a jump and grabbed the phone, what led to an unpleasant scratch from Tilly in your thigh. Before picking up, you stared at the screen for a few seconds, just so he didn’t think you were impatiently waiting for his reply. Yes, you were petty like that sometimes.              

“Hey!”               

“Hello loser!” The raspyness of his voice caught you by surprise, making you shiver. You’d almost forgot how good it sounded.      

“No one uses that word anymore.”      

“Who cares?” “Good point. Hm, listen… I hope you’re not mad at me for not going...”       “What? You really thought I was gonna give up on you that easily?”     “Oh, stop it! I’m not going! Besides, even if I wanted to go, what would I wear? I literally have like ze-” You stopped your rambling, realizing he was singing something to you over the phone, you didn’t recognize it at first, but then you realized where it was from.     

“You're a mean one Mr. Grinch.               You really are a heeeel…               You're as cuddly as a cactus!       You're as charming as an eel! Mr. Griiiinch… You're a bad banana with a… Greasy black peeeeel!”      

It was a song from the last movie you had seen together when he had came home for the holidays. How The Grinch Stole Christmas. He was singing it to mock you by your choice of words, that reminded him of a particular scene of the movie. The way he was messing up the song with his gibberish made you laugh. Eventually both your laughs and his singing faded, leaving you with a huge smile on your face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” You asked.           

“Well, thank you. Now... As a way of thanking me for my… astonishing performace, you must come party with us.”        

“You’ve got some nerve coming at me with that crap after you’ve abandoned me for... how long was it again? two months?”

“Hey... I’m trying to redeem myself here!”             “Good! As you should.”            

“Is that a yes? Please...? You’re not going to say no to me, are you?”   

“It’s a maybe... a highy dependant on me finding something to wear type of maybe. First of all, is it like…fancy?”      

“Hmm, not really… I think!? You never really know with these parties.”              

“Trust me, I’m aware.” There was a brief silent pause on Harry’s side of the phone, as you as you rummaged through your clothes. “What are you going to wear anyway?”  

“Don’t know yet. Probably like, some pants… boots… and a shirt?”         Harry’s vague description didn't help whatsoever, but you were far too busy trying to disenchant a decent outfit to make light of his words. “Okay!” There was a lot of shuffling from your side, making his eyebrows furrow on the other side the line, despite your lack of knowledge. “I think I may have just found my nice pants, but I don’t know if I have a nice blouse that goes with them... or one that is fitted for the occasion. Why am I so boring with my clothes? I need to invest in a better wardrobe asap…” “You can always come by mine and borrow a shirt… Ya know, If you don’t want to stand out too much.”

“Not standing out by wearing your clothes? Now that’s funny!”               “I’m sure you’ll find something wearable...”      

“Are you serious? You would let me borrow your clothes?”        

“Sure. If you want to.”  

“I don’t know… I’m scared I’ll rip them or something.”                       

“I mean, I like my clothes... but it’s not like I would kill you or myself if something bad happened to them.” “You’re so humble and reasonable Mr. Styles… How did you stay like that?” You could hear him briefelly laugh at your provocation. “I’m serious! besides, I secretly always want to know how my clothes fit on different people.”

“I’m not trying to spoil it for you but probably not that good... Mostly because I’m female shaped so they won’t fit me properly… Also, I’m not sure if you’re aware but you have this gift-”     “Oh, shut up! You can pull anything off.” He cut you off before you could either compliment him or put yourself down. “As long as you love it.” “We’ll see about that.” You challenged, noticeably way less hopeful than he was. “I’ll see you in… an hour and half? Is that a good time?”             

“Do you want me to ask someone to pick you up?”               “I’m good, thank you...” You answered, wasting little time mulling over your friend’s proposal. “But I would happily accept a parking spot in your garage…” You added suggestively, knowing he wouldn’t say no. “Sure! Anything for you.”           “Thank you!”   “You’re very welcome.”               “Okay, well... I better go and get ready now or I’m going to show up late.”   “Alright, I need to go get ready as well. See you soon. Drive safe!”           “Always do.” It took you a bit more than na hour to get ready, what meant you were already running a little late, since Harry’s house was more than half an hour drive away.  

You were wearing one of your favorite “going out” pants, they were black, high-waisted, carrot fitted and overwhelmingly confortable. You went for other one of your favorite pieces - a yellow silk blouse, just in case you ended up not fitting properly in any of Harry’s shirts.

You paired your outfit with oval style ankle boots you’d just recently acquired. I already know I’m going to regret this decision, you thought whilst putting them on.            

You had also decided to change into a matching set of lingerie just because you never know what can happen, right? and also partially because you knew you’d be changing at Harry’s, and god forbid he actually saw anything but if he did, at least it wouldn’t be your granny underwear. You put on a neutral makeup look, throwing a couple of lipsticks into your purse, just so you could decide which one to wear depending on the color of the shirt.             Finally, you put on a bit of perfume and grabbed your jacket, taking a final look in the mirror, staring at yourself from different angles. “I guess that’s about as good as it’s gonna get.” You mumbled to your reflection.           

Before leaving the house, you kissed and petted your cat goodbye, however she didn’t respond to your affection since she was already asleep on top of the clothes you had just carelessly thrown on top of the bed.      

You got in your car and drove off, thirty four minutes later you were turning into Harry’s street and stopping the car in front of the condominium’s gate.You took your phone out of your purse and rang him, he picked up almost immediately.

“You’re here?” “Yeah, I’m already at the gate.”               “Okay, let me open it for you and I’ll be down in a second.”         “Okay, thank you.” The call dropped and the large metal gate started to move, you slowly drove your way into the condo, trying to remember where the entrance to his garage was.          

You didn’t have to think too hard, because a few seconds later one of the garage doors started to open and you could see a pair of impecable black leather boots that merged with the bottom of burgundy flares. Yup, no need for more searching, You thought.          

You stopped the car, waiting for the gate to fully open for what seemed like an eternity, but it gave you time to fully appreciate the man that was slowly revealing himself in front of you.

You could start to see his top half now, he was wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, uncovering his tattooed arms. The top buttons were undone, exposing the cross necklace he always wore, he was also wearing another necklace you hadn’t seen before, his hands were hidden in his pockets, but you already knew that they would be adorned with multiple rings of all shapes and sizes. What a show off, was the tought that came to mind once his whole outfit was revealed, but you had to admit that you wouldn’t have him any other way...   

Finally his head showed up, and he was wearing a big smile on his face.

“Hey you! Better hurry up before this thing closes on you.” You were so lost in his smile that you accidentally let your car die, but you were quick to start it again and as he walked aside you pulled into the garage.           

When you finished parking, you got out of the car, being immediately greeted by Harry’s arms that wrapped you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes to fully enjoy the moment. He smelled like his characteristic cologne, but since your head was pressed against his shoulder, you could also smell the fabric softner on his shirt and his deodorant.  

“You smell nice.” You mumbled under your breath.   “So do you.” He replied swiftly, resting his chin on the top of your head.          He walked you to the elevator and you went up to his apartment. After many minutes of catching up in the living room he led you to his bedroom, where his closet was. “It’s a bit messy in here, I’ve been meaning to organize it, but I haven’t really had the time.” The boy said before opening its door.

You tried not to look mesmerized by the amount of clothing in front of you, because you knew that one of the things Harry hated the most was when people perceived him as shallow or vain. Luckily, most people could tell straight away that his love for fashion had a greater meaning for him than to just look nice... And even when they didn’t, it only took them about seconds of conversation with him to realize how much of a ducky and kind person he truly was. Also, fairly recently he had been getting a lot of praise for his bold fashion choices, what led to a bit of over enthusiasm from his main stylists’s part and himself when it came to investing in it.  

“I promise I actually wear most of these...” He justified himself, noticing the enthralled expression you genuinely believed you were managing to disguise.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You giggled. “I’m just slightly overwhelmed by the number of choices before me.”         “Well, take all the time you need.” Harry smiled, sitting over the edge of his bed and unlocking his phone to check the time. It was already past midnight.  As you finally gained courage to start going through his clothes, he let his back fall on the bedspread with a sigh and stared at the ceiling, and that’s when you decided you couldn’t possibly not try to mess with him a little bit. “Stupid… Ugly… Out of date…” (Reference (01:20-01:24)              

“Hey! Stop it, will you?!” He sat up again, supporting his upper body with his elbows that rested firmly on his lap. “Have you found my dress yet?” 

You peeked through the open closet to with a curious expression on your face. “No… Where is it?” you asked, disappearing behind the door and enthusiastically searching his closet for the item, suddently grabbing something that kinda looked like a dress, yet kinda looked like a curtain.           “Is this it?” You asked, stepping out of the closet, holding the hanger in front of you.               

“It’s not a dress, it’s a kilt... Sicko!”  (Reference (01:13-01:18)          

“Really? You had that one coming for a long time didn’t you?” You disdainfully smiled, shaking your head in disapproval. You could tell from his little smirk that he was proud of successfully tricking you into his joke. “Yeah, I was hoping you would find it and ask about it, but you didn’t so I had to find a way to deliver the line anyway.”            

“Okay, but for real why do you have a wedding dress in your closet?” You turned the hanger to see the strange garment from the front.            

“Cause I’m cool like that.”        

“You know what? It’s actually not as ugly as it seemed at first sight...”    

“Well, I would hope so ‘cause it was bloody expensive.” At the sound of his words you were quick to carefully hang it back in it’s place, gently rubbing the fabric to avoid any crinkles.

You kept looking through his clothes and ended up finding a almost sheer shirt that you liked. It was rusty orange with a psychadelic flower pattern that looked quite unique. Taking advantage of the fact that Harry was laying down and distracted on his phone and freed yourself of your blouse in a swift motion, trying on his shirt on as fast as you could. It fitted you quite nicely to your surprise.               “So, have you found anything you like yet?” Your friend asked, with his eyes still stuck on his phone.

“Actually yes, but I could use your help… How would you style this?”  He sat up again and focused his attention on you. “How come you end up finding the one shirt I don’t actually remember owning?” 

He admired you from the bed, letting is head fall to the side a bit, you could feel his eyes stuck on your figure, what made you feel a bit unconfortable and insecure about your body. His expression changed as he got up and walked towards you, making a little circle around you and finally stopping right in front of you. “May I?” He asked, reaching for the shirt.        

“Yeah, go ahead.” You lifted your arms slightly so they wouldn’t get on his way. Carefully, he started adjusting the shirt, slipping it inside your pants and gently pulling it out, until it fell down in a natural way.      

You could feel the warmth of his hands on your skin through the fabric, what caused your breathing to get a little heavy and out of your throat came a peculiar husky sound. Luckily, he was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even acknowledged it.    

Feeling a bit flustered due to his proximity, you decided to break the silence.     “You look so different now that you cut your hair…”      

“Well, isn’t that kind of the point of changing your hair? Why are you complaining? Do you not find me cute anymore?”  “Who lied to you and told you I ever thought you were cute?” Harry looked up at you with disdainful expression once his green eyes met yours. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer by the second. “Well you’re wrong because I am, in fact, very attractive.” He looked down again and undid one of the buttons of the shirt, what left a bit of the black lace of your bra showing. “What are you doing?” You asked in a startled tone. “Just trust me.”               “Umm… Fine, I guess.” You shrugged as he stepped back to admire his work. His focused expression broke into a proud smile as he moved to the side, uncovering the mirror just so you could see yourself. You looked hot, there’s no other way to put it. The color of the shirt complimented your skin tone beautifully, as well as the golden necklace that fell over your chest in a sensual way, capturing attention to your stripped neckline. “You look cuter than me, I can't have that... Come on, we’re switching. Take it off, now.”  Your handsome friend complained in a frisky tone, grabbing at the hem of his shirt as if he was about to pull it off. “I could never…” You challenged, feeling quite shy after his compliment. “Well, apparently you can.” “You look amazing though...” You complimented back. “Love the pants.” “Really? I think they make my ass look weird sometimes.” The boy confessed, turning around so you could check his bottoms. “I think your ass’s great.” You kind of regretted the conviction you uttered that sentence with. “I mean… in those pants.”

Harry sighed playfully. “I was enjoying the compliment, why did you have to ruin it?” 

“Fine, you can take the compliment then.” You granted easily. “Shouldn’t we get going? I’m sure it’s pretty late already…” “Ready?”           “Yes, let me just…” You ran to your purse, picking one of the lipsticks you had brought with you, applying it in front of the mirror while the charming man shoved his essential belongings into the pockets of his matching blazer and put it on, completing the look.       You noticed he was observing you with curiosity as you tinted your lips in a dark shade of brick orange. “Let’s go missy.” The boy rushed as you locked eyes with him through the mirror.   **

Even though you offered to drive to Claire’s house, he insisted on taking his car because he hadn’t driven in a while and wanted to before he got “rusty”.  As he was driving, you inquired him about who was hosting the party you were going to, since all he’d told you was that you were meeting your friends at Clare’s house and from there you would share a car, so that the whole group would get there together.          

To your surprise, when faced with your question he got quiet and you noticed his expression changing, he briefely took his eyes off the road to look at you and you could practically see the guilt in this face. “What is it?” You asked, wondering what he could be acting so weird about.  

“Hum yeah, about that…” He began to stammer, keeping his eyes stuck to the road.          

“Just tell me it’s not what I think it is.”    “Before you say anything, I know you’ll probably want to kill me right now…”   “Harry!”         “I knew you wouldn’t have come if I told you... It’s going to be fun, I promise! She’s not as bad as you think she is.”         “No Harry!” You fretted. “You know what? Just stop the car, I want to go home.”         

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”  

“I’m not kidding Harry.”               “I’m not dropping you off in the middle of the fucking freeway.”              

“Yes you are!” “No, I’m not.”   He kept driving and you let your body slip through the seat, crossing your arms in silence, resenting him for almost five minutes while he tried to convince you of how Alexa was way nicer than you thought and that she wasn’t really a bitch, it was just that her sense of humor could be a little off-putting sometimes. The way he was defending her made you feel even angrier, even though you weren’t really listening.               

In your head all you could think about was all the times you had the unpleasant surprise of bumping into Alexa. She was such a bitch! Always finding a way to put you down and make you feel embarassed. She even came up with a stupid nickname for you at Harry’s birthday party that she always made sure to use, even though she must’ve known you hated it.       “Just so you know, when we get to Claire’s I’m getting a cab and going home.” 

“Fine.” He jerked his shoulders dismissively. “If you want to miss out on a great time with our friends, it’s up to you.”             “When she’s there it’s never really a good time for me so I guess I’m good.”       “Come on…” Harry huffed, shifting his gaze off to road for a moment to check on his muddled friend. “Everyone was so excited to see you...”             You were mad that he lied to you, but you were madder that you had gotten all dressed up and now you weren’t going. You also missed your mutual friends and hanging out with them. You kept weighting the pros and the cons throughout the rest of the drive, and when you got to Claire’s house, after a little convincing from the group, you decided you were not going to let the fact that it was Alexa’s party ruin the night for you.        

You were still mad at Harry though. And having to go on another car trip with him, feeling his body pressing up against yours whenever there was a turnabout, wasn’t making it easy for you to keep your cool.              

As you finally got to Alexa’s house you could tell the house was packed by the number of cars parked outside, making you feel relieved you had a driver, because if you had to find a place to park it would’ve been a nightmare.        

There was a group of people lining up, and as you got closer you noticed two men by the door checking for the guests names on a list. You started to get worried that your friends might have omitted to Alexa that you were going, since you were almost certain that your presence wouldn’t please her any better than it did to you. You eyed their faces, looking for any sign of concern, however they seemed calm.

As you walked the line, you started to get more and more nervous, ending up momentarily swallowing your pride and pulling at Harry’s sleeve, in hopes of getting his attention without the rest of the group noticing. “Does Alexa know I’m coming to her party?” You asked as quietly as you could.    

“Of course she does! I told her myself.”

“What did she say?”    

He didn’t get to answer your question because he was approached by the doorkeeper, that asked him for his name. Harry politely greeted him before answering his question and being such a gentleman, he provided the names of the other members of the group.

The doorkeeper checked the names on the list and to your surprise your name was actually there. He allowed the group to get inside. All of you murmuring a brief “thank you” as you walked past the big guy.              

The door led to a giant lounge style living room, that seemed to be where the focus of the party was. To your right, there were three big windows, each with it’s own balcony, where small groups of people gathered to enjoy a smoke and the beautiful view of the city. In the middle of the room there was an open dance space, demarked by an enormous persian carpet, that was still pretty empty despite the fact the DJ was already playing.        

Behind the dance area there were two long tables, practically stuffed with different types of alcoholic beverages. It had to be one of the most diverse open bars you had ever seen at a house party.          From the ceiling fell party ribbons and lights, and the walls were adorned with baloons and paper decorations. You tried to decipher the color of the objects around you, but it was almost impossible due to the color changing lights that provided an hallucinogenic athmosphere to the space.

You looked around, trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. As your eyes scanned the place, they found couple of familiar faces, but they froze at a well-known face in the kitchen.        

There was Alexa… She was sitting over the counter, scrolling on her phone. Her glossy lips rested on the edge of the paper cup she was holding. The light from the screen illuminated her face, making her glittery eyeshadow pop behind the thick lashes that she was wearing. She was dressed in a two-toned metallic mini dress and knee-high platform boots. You could tell from her expression that she was distressed about something. Her stillness gave you the opportunity to study her face. Her features were quite angelical, something you had never noticed before.

The sound of something scattering on the kitchen floor woke her up from her daydream as she turned around to curse at whoever opened the kitchen cabinet. Yup, there’s the bitch, You mused to yourself.            

She jumped off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, making her way around the groups of people that were chattering by the door. She walked around the living room, trying to greet the people she hadn’t seen yet.

Your eyes briefly met hers before she approached your friends. They went for a group hug, in which you didn’t participate. Instead, you awkwardly stared at them while they hugged and chatted. Harry looked back at you, encouraging you to join them with an eye motion, you let out a sigh and moved closer to the group, what caught Alexa’s attention. “Hi Nutmeg! I haven’t seen you in a hot minute…” She greeted you by kissing the air next to your cheek, before looking you up and down. “I see you’ve upgraded your closet... It was about time.” The beautiful girl remarked, focusing her attention on the shirt you were wearing.        

You found yourself side-eyeing Harry, trying your hardest to ignore her taunting words. “I swear I’ve seen that somewhere... what brand is it?” Her question startled you. Prompting your head to tilt towards Harry, realizing he had mirrored the gesture to stare at you. You stood there staring at each other, both of you wishing you could read his mind. “Is there something I’m missing?” Alexa questioned, suspicious of your odd behaviour.          

“No, not at all!” Harry was quick to intervene. “I’m gonna go for a drink, anyone wants to join me?” He suggested, clearly attempting to brush off the topic.        

“I’ll go get the drinks.” You volunteered, taking the chance to escape and ditch Alexa’s question.

“Will you get me some jack and coke?” The girl requested, handing you her freshly empty cup. “Thanks.” She added when you grabbed it from her hand. It was probably the only time you actually felt pleased to fix Alexa a drink. “Harry, what do you want?” You called his attention back to you, upon realizing he was already engaged into conversation with someone you didn’t know.            

“Double Tequila, please.” You raised your brows at his choice of beverage. Already knowing that when he started the night with Tequila he would, most likely, end up drunk out of his mind. But you didn’t bother to try to coarce him into switching to something else. “Do you need an extra hand?” He offered out of politeness.        

“It’s fine, I’m sure I can handle it.” You spat as you left, not wanting to interrupt his conversation again.   

As the night went on, people started to gather mainly around the dance space, that was proving itself to be a little too small for the large amount of people using it. You were having a good time, but you were definitely not enjoying the feeling of getting rubbed all over by everyone around you. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. And as you predicted, he was already pretty out of it, prancing around the place and carelessly engaging into conversation with everyone who approached him, including people you knew he shit talked behind their back... The fake little bitch...       

You tried not to care, but you couldn’t keep yourself from constantly checking on him to see what he was up to. You weren’t the only one who couldn’t keep your eyes away from him.. What wasn’t unnusual, since he was such a natural attention-grabber. Howbeit, there were several girls and boys that were practically drooling at the sight of him. That wasn’t new either, but it didn’t make it any less annoying...        

When the boy finally made his way back to the group, he tried to convince you to dance with him by grabbing your hand and making you spin for him. You graciously brushed him off. Mostly out of shyness, persuading him into asking your friend John instead. He agreed on the spot... And once he finally managed to get his friend to bend at his will, they got everyone laughing and cheering, encouraging them to keep up with the tango dance moves. But it wasn’t long until the two boys had enough of the attention, laughing it off and joining the group again.          

Then a figure rose above the crowd. It was Alexa, who has just stood up on a table holding a microphone in her hand that she was slowly tapping on, attempting to grab everyone’s attention. “Hello, hello, hello my magnificent friends. How is everyone feeling tonight?” She asked, earning a loud cheer from the crowd, that she encouraged by clapping silently before speaking again. “Alright, alright... can y’all can shut the fuck up now? …I just wanted to say that I hope everyone is getting drunk and having a great time. You know me, I gotta be real with you… There are some people here I’d much rather had stayed home, but you know what? You don’t really bother me.” The girl shrugged haughtily. “With that said, I’d like to propose a toast to every single one of you motherfuckers that came to my party. Cheers, bitches!” She yelled the last two words, emptying her cup in a single swig while the crowd cheered and downed their own cups along with the host.

The fact that Alexa let you in had given you the impression that maybe Harry was right about her, but her speech left a bad taste in your mouth and made you wonder if you were one of the people she was talking about, you were almost certain you were. “What did you say earlier about her being a nice person?” You ironically asked Harry, that was standing right beside you.        

Your eyes were still stuck on her as you wondered if she would manage to get down from the table without falling. You secretly hoped she wouldn’t.            

He failed to answer your question, so you turned to him. Only to realize that he wasn’t there anymore. Your eyes quickly danced around the room, searching for your missing friend, and unfortunatly it wasn’t long until they found him...  

Your whole body went cold, feeling your heart sink in your chest. Your vision felt blurry, and there was a complicated knot forming at the tip of your stomach. There he was. Barely six feet away from you. With his back flush against a wall and his lips pressed harshly on somebody else’s. His hands gently caressed up the other boy’s back, that had his hands firmly clutched onto your friend’s hair and the back of his neck.            

You felt like your whole world was crashing down in front of you.            

Whilst everyone around you was enjoying themselves, all you wanted to do was collapse to your knees and scream your confusing pain away, but you couldn’t. There was nothing you could do and it just fucking hurt.            

You’d always known it would eventually happen... But nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling of watching the person you love fondling somebody else.    

In the middle of your agony, you noticed a pair of hazel eyes staring right at you from distance, breaking your attention from the heartbreaking scene. “Yo... What the fuck?!” You couldn’t hear her words, but you could read them clearly through the motion of her lips. She looked completely baffled by the state of you.

You stepped back, attempting your best to muffle into the crowd, but it was too late... You were certain she’d saw the devastated look on your face, and the glistening tear that rolled down your cheek afterwards.

You turned your back on the scene and pushed through the crowd, hidding your face as you stumbled upon almost everyone on your way to the bathroom. You locked yourself inside and leaned against the door, finally letting it all out as you sobbed uncontrollably and allowed for your body to slide down the surface, until your knees met the cold marble floor.    

A unexpected loud banging on the door startled you. “It’s occupied.” Y/N shouted, in the most composed voice she could fabricate.  

“It’s Alexa... open the door.” The girl shouted back impatiently.    

“Fuck off Alexa!” You could feel your blood boil and your hands trembling at the mere sound of her voice. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

There was silence for a moment, before she banged on the door harder. You tried to ignore it because considering your state, at the slighest provocation you’d probably lose it and punch her in the face. “Don’t be a fucking bitch, I’m here to help.” Alexa shouted again, but it was pointless. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll have to ask someone to kick the door down...”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”          

“It’s my house. What are you going to do about it?” She challenged, knowing you couldn’t fight her on that. “You have three seconds… one...two…” You flang the door open before she could finish her countdown, causing her to tremble ever so slightly. “Quite the charm, aren’t you?” She sighed satirically, making her way inside the bathroom while fixing her dress. You noticed she was holding a bottle of Bacardi rum, that she promptly opened and handed to you. You stood there perplexedly looking at her, trying to figure out what her intentions were. “Are you going to take it or not?” At that, you abruptly grabbed the bottle from her hand and took it to your lips, taking a big chug and giving it back with a disgusted expression caused by the intense alcohol sting. Alexa took the bottle to her lips as well, but unlike you, her face didn’t even flinch. “What did you come here for?” The sharpness of your tone led her into giving you a dirty look “What do you think? That I came in here to make fun of you?”            

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”     “Just thought you could use a friend...” She explained, jumping on her bum to sit on the countertop. “And luckily for you, so do I.”  

“Judging by the number of people outside, I’m sure you have plenty of friends.”  

She let out a silent wheeze at your guess. “Everything isn’t always what it seems, Nutmeg… I have people that keep me company, but when it comes down to the real shit, I have no one I can count with really…”        

“I’m finding that quite hard to believe if I’m honest…”               “I know you are. So is everyone else. They all assume my life is just perfect. After all, I have everything, don’t I? I don’t blame them... I know I can be cruel and bitter sometimes, but I’m not the cold-hearted, super confident bitch everyone thinks that I am.”   “Why are you telling me all that?”          

“I don’t know… Maybe ‘cause I’m drunk and lonely and you’re one of the few people here that I actually like…” You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re messing with me, right?”  She, on the other hand, seemed rather confused by your apprehensiveness. “I appreciate people like you... Who manage to stay true to themselves despite hanging out with these people. It’s so easy to lose yourself in this environment... But I don’t think you did, and I can appreciate that.”  

“I’m just lucky to have good friends... If they were different, I don’t know if I’d stayed so nice and humble.”      

As the silence settled, you took the chance to sit down on the edge of her expensive looking bathtub. “So… changing the subject. You and Harry, what’s the deal?”  

“What do you mean?” You pretended you didn’t know what she was implying, hoping she would let go of the topic.

“I’m not stupid. I saw the way you looked when he was all over that guy… I confess I had no idea that you were into him. I thought you liked girls, I could almost swear he had told me that.” Her words made your stomach twist, and Alexa didn’t miss your distressed expression. “Sorry... I’m not very good with words. I didn’t mean to make it worse.” The girl added, trying to make up for her cold stance. “Here...” She handed you back the bottle, and you agreeably to a swig from it. “Does he know?”

“I don’t think so...”   “I don’t mean to be unpleasant but I think he thinks you’re a lesbian.”   “Yeah, I know…  he’s not completely wrong, I guess.”     “So, you’re bi?”               “I don’t really know what I am.”               “Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be anything, you can just be… yourself!” You locked eyes with her, briefely smiling at her motivational words “How long have you fancied him for?”

“I don’t know...” You stared down at your own feet. “Thinking back, I guess I always kind of have... but it’s complicated. So I just hoped it would go away with time... Besides, you’ve seen the people he gets with. They’re all gorgeous, and I... I mean, I don’t really meet the standards, do I?”         “And how’s that working out for you?” You went quiet, since you didn’t really have a good answer to give. “Okay, here’s what I think you should do. First of all, you gotta stop with the self loathing. It’s depressing and outdated. You’re just as valid as everyone else.”

“It’s not self loathing. You don’t understand… What if he pushes me away? I really care for our friendship and I don’t want to throw it all away because of a stupid crush.”     “A stupid crush? Didn’t you just say you’ve always liked him? How long have you known eachother for? Three years?”   “Well… Two and half, but it’s not like I’ve been waiting for him… I’ve had my fair share of relationships and so did he, I never did anything to change that. Why would I start now?”       “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re at a party, locked inside a bathroom, crying over him, while he’s out there screwing somebody else.”           “God, you’re certainly are awful with words aren’t you?”             “I take pride in my honesty.” She stated. “Look, all I can say is that I think this whole “crush” situation is, obviously, far more than a crush... And you know I’m right so don’t even bother to deny it. Therefore, I think it’s long overdue that you do something about how you feel, otherwise you’re just gonna be stuck wondering on the what ifs forever, watching him live his life while you’re unable to move on with your yours, and you deserve better than that. Anyone deserves better than that.”       “It’s just… scary.”   “Isn’t everything worth trying always somewhat scary at first?”   You ended up spending the rest of the night with Alexa. Sitting inside her large empty bathtub, sharing your shittiest life experiences and drowning your sorrows with the bottle of rum. She told you about her crazy ex-boyfriend, and how he had been making her life a living hell since their break up. Showing up uninvited at her work, her parties, and practically everywhere she went, despite her telling him time and time again to stop and leave her alone. You advised her the best you could, but as you expected, she was pretty stubborn and acted as if she had everything under control, even though she clearly did not. The night had taken a unexpected turn for you, however, at least there was something positive you could also take from it, that being the friendship that was beggining to fluorish between you and Alexa. 

You were so deep in conversation that you completely lost track of time, so much that you finally felt tired and decided to check you phone for the time, it was already 6AM.

You had seven missed calls and fifteen text messages from your friends asking where you were, if you were okay and if you were still leaving with them. You realized they had probably already left, so you just apologized for leaving early and informed them that you were fine. When you and Alexa got out of the bathroom, there were still a couple of people hanging around, but as expected, the vast majority had already left.         

The light coming from the windows hurt your tired eyes and your bottom half was hurting from spending so many hours sitting inside a bathtub. By that time, all you wanted to do was go home, take a shower and take a nap to make up for the all nighter you pulled, but then you remembered…      

“Shit!”

“What?”

“I left my car at Harry’s house.”              

I hope you’re enjoying it so far! Chapter II is hereeee!

[ckret2]

So I've been deeply pulled into the Radiosnake pairing bc of your fantastic writing! Problem is, now I have fic ideas but no knowledge of the Hazbin background. Can you tellI me where I can get more Hazbin info? I've only watched the pilot and read your stuff. I heard there were comics??

That is an excellent question anon, because right now it is really hard to get Hazbin background easily.

Okay, so, the canon info on Hazbin Hotel can be sort of sorted into four tiers, from most to least canon.

Tier 1: The Definitely Canon

There is, of course, the pilot. And then there is an Angel Dust prequel comic, only seven pages of which have been released so far. We’ve been told it’s gonna be finished and we’ve had glimpses of in-progress prequel comics for a couple other characters—most prominently Alastor’s and Charlie’s—but so far that unfinished Angel Dust comic is the only one that’s been officially released.

Finding the in-progress comic pages is... a challenge. Nobody, as far as I can tell, has been specifically collecting all of the pages we’ve seen so far. I was able to scrounge up:

Couple more Angel pages

some Alastor pages

another Alastor page

a random Alastor panel

another random Alastor panel—I’ve seen the full page of this before, Alastor goes “Hello ladies!” and they go “HELLO ALASTOR~<3″ but I can’t find the full page now

There’s a smattering more canon panels on the artist faustisse’s twitter, but I haven’t dug them all out, and some of the posts I’m gonna link in a lil bit have a glimpse of another panel.

If you haven’t already heard of Helluva Boss, I recommend looking into it as well. It’s a second series being created by the same folks, different cast of characters but set in the same version of Hell, so any canon details we learn in Helluva also apply to Hazbin.

Helluva’s pilot is here. Plus a cute music video here.

Earlier this month, during a BLM charity stream hosted by show artist Ashley Nichols—she runs regular streams under the title “HuniCast”—they released a few sneak peaks of future Helluva scenes, all compiled here.

And that’s it for canon. Two pilots, a music video, a smattering of future scenes, part of one comic, a few WIP pages/panels from other comics.

Tier 2: Pseudo-Canon

Everything else we currently know about Hazbin (and Helluva) are things that the creators have told us. Consequently, they’re all pseudo-canon—and likely subject to change in the future as the shows and comics are further developed and released. Some details that were released/described in the past have been contradicted at other times, or else radically changed by the time the pilot came out.

(For example, when Alastor was first created years and years ago as an OC with no plans for Hazbin, he was a demon deer who could shapeshift into a human shape—now he’s a demonized human with a few deer traits. And Charlie and Cherri Bomb used to look very different.)

So until and unless they make it into canon, all these pseudo-canon details are subject to change and should be taken with a grain of salt—but, they also comprise most of what we know about the characters’ backstory and the as-yet-unaired characters.

Pseudo-canon info on Hazbin is scattered mainly between two sources: the creators’ twitter accounts, and livestreams where they take questions and talk about the making of the show. If you and livestreams do not get along (my ADHD and livestreams do not get along), or if you don’t want to wade years and years back into twitter accounts to dig up every scrap of info on the characters the creators have ever mentioned, collating all the pseudo-canon info is gonna be hard. (It’s gonna be hard even if you do want to sit through the streams and dig through all their tweets.) Lots of fans, me included, depend on the absolutely heroic work of various fans who are willing and able to watch hours-long streams and collate a list of canon factoids released during the streams. I’ve reblogged as many of these posts as I’ve been able to find:

Alastor’s sound design (on twitter)

Alastor's Sound Design (post I made with screenshots of weird—but very interesting—subtitles slipped into the aforementioned video)

Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb’s sound design

Niffty and Husk’s sound design

Charlie, Katie, and Tom’s sound design

Intro song’s sound design

Happy Hotel’s sound design

details from Faustisse (including a pic of a couple costume designs. Most of these posts come from zatyrlucy, who’s been doing a fantastic job of going stream-by-stream to get lists of details from the regular streams by Ashley Nichols and by comic artist Faustisse.)

more details from Faustisse (including a pic of the Von Eldritch family dining room)

Faustisse 3 (better look at that table)

Dollymoon’s Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART ONE (Shoutout again to dollymoon for compiling these, we’ve never spoken but I am eternally grateful for this service. Dollymoon’s posts are THE single most reliable compilation of Hazbin Hotel’s nebulous pseudo-canon facts that I have found to date, including both links to the sources and timestamps where applicable. Dollymoon’s URL has changed since making this post so the “read more” link doesn’t work but the “source” or “reblogged from” links direct correctly to the new blog. Incidentally, the risk of other blog creators deleting their blogs/posts or changing their URLs is why in info posts like these, I always link to my own reblogs rather than their original posts—their original posts might vanish without warning, but I know I ain’t gonna delete my posts, so these links will still work in the future.)

Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART TWO

Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART THREE

Faustisse 4

HuniCast - Australian Wildlife Relief charity stream

I think this was a faustisse stream (the original source deleted these posts, so the comic pages that were originally behind that read more cut are now gone.)

Faustisse stream 6?

And those are all the masterposts of factoids I’ve managed to collect. If anyone has more masterposts, chuck ‘em at me.

Even this isn’t all the knowledge that’s been released about the show. The posts that dig the farthest back are Dollymoon’s, and even they don’t comprehensively cover all of Hazbin’s production. A couple of these characters, Vivziepop created as a teenager, so there’s some truly ancient concept art floating around out there that will have details that probably aren’t canon anymore... but might still be until something happens to actively contradict them.

Tier 3: The Wiki

The wiki is kind of an absolute mess. It’s a chaotic blend of things actually seen in the pilots/comic, things mentioned at some point in some stream somewhere, and wild fan speculation based on what they headcanon as plausible based on the above, all mixed together with very little indication for which is canon, pseudo-canon, fanon, or speculation. Most of the statements on the wiki don’t have citations.

(And, on top of that, half the main characters’ info gets split up into separate tabs instead of just having a normal-ass wiki page, AND their image galleries are on COMPLETELY SEPARATE pages that are linked to in one of the tabs, and the most important characters all have TWO SEPARATE GALLERIES. Which doesn’t have anything to do with the quality of the facts hidden underneath those tabs, but nevertheless drives me up the wall.)

Some things on the wiki were added according to info released so long ago it’s probably changed by now. Some are possibilities that got reported as facts. Other things on the wiki have unambiguously changed, or else are just flat-out incorrect. (For instance, at this moment Alastor’s page still lists him as an overlord, even though it's been confirmed that Alastor is not an overlord despite his power level because he isn’t interested in and didn’t pursue that position, per this stream. For a little bit, somebody’s fanart of their headcanon human Alastor got added to the wiki as concept art.)

tl;dr: the wiki should never be trusted as a primary source. The wiki’s better than it used to be. Even so, at this time, it’s only trustworthy to fill in the gaps of what you already know is true from other, better sources.

The thing it’s good at is it more or less compiles all the known info all in one place. Trying to figure out who the hell this Vox guy is is really hard if you’re reading for mentions of him in compilations of a dozen different streams, much less if you’re trying to comb through those dozen streams yourself, plus a dozen more, plus three different artists’ twitters. In comparison, it’s really easy to, say, just go look at Vox’s wiki page, where all the trivia is compiled. (And Vox’s page is actually one of the better cited on the wiki. Look at all those numbers!)

So, if you need to find out who this character is you’ve never heard of before, if you want to see a full list of the thus far named characters, if you don’t remember whether Alastor likes coffee or tea, if you want to know what Angel’s twin sister looks like, if you need a reminder of Sir Pentious’s death year... check the wiki. It’s an okay starting point.

But, if you see a “fact” on the wiki that you yourself don’t remember from straight out of the pilot, and it doesn’t have a citation that links to a tweet or a stream... regard it suspiciously. And do not trust it unquestioningly as fact until and unless you have seen the source.

Tier 4: Noncanon Creator Shitposting

I’ve mentioned Ashley’s HuniCast streams a couple times. The biggest draw of them is that she usually gets several of the voice actors in the streams, where they’ll happily say nonsense in their character voices. For the most part, they’re not sharing any actual canon info they’ve been given on their characters, just goofing around pretending to be their characters. Nevertheless, a lot of the things that happen in streams get accepted as broad fandom headcanons, like Alastor being into dad jokes. (My favorite, for obvious reasons, is this one.)

It’s easy to find the source audio for all this wonderful nonsense by searching youtube for “HuniCast highlights,” and then rummaging around for animatics people make out of the audio. The only one noncanon video of this sort I can think of that didn’t originally come from HuniCast is a lone one from Alastor’s singing voice (who’s a different voice actor than his speaking voice).

So, obviously, none of these are canon. But they do come from some of the people actually involved in the creation of the show, and they are in the characters’ canon voices, so a whole lot of people treat them as semi-canon anyway. (Even the wiki lists “dad jokes” among Alastor’s likes, which to my knowledge hasn’t come up anywhere except for HuniCast streams.) Since they’re so broadly-known, they’re worth knowing about as important sources of fanon, even if you don’t want to adopt them into your own headcanons. They’re basically the same level of canon as blooper reels.

[greetings-from-telly-hole]

attention! now, you may have wondered, gee, all this telly hole stuff sure looks nice, but i can’t find anywhere to talk with people about it, and i really don’t know where i could get a good source on telly hole information. well, lucky you, because i’ve got solutions to both of those problems. presenting:

The Tolly Hell discord server & The Telly Hole Confoundium

now i’m sure you’re wondering what the hell either of these are. put simply, tolly hell is the our brand spankin new telly hole discord server, where anyone can come & chat about the bois, show off c o o l m e m e s, put art & stories on display, etc etc. anyone can join, whether you’re one of the founding members of telly hole (hi there) or a budding member of the renaissance. it’s open to all, and as a special feature you’ll get direct access to...

the confoundium. telly hole isn’t the most accessible of fandoms to join by nature. hunting down & cataloguing every bit of scattered, miscellaneous telly hole content sounds like an arduous task nobody would want to inflict upon themself. and it is. but here i am anyway. however, if you’re one of those generous souls that would take it upon themself to help out in such a mission, then just let me (loolin, owner of the spreadsheet) know & i’ll give you permission. otherwise, the doc’s on full view in the tolly hell server & at the top of this blog.

[wherearemyglassesbro]

fruk but england moves into a new house thats haunted by super fucking annoying ghost france, who will possess England and make him do little things (changing the channel, forces him to flip the eggs so they dont burn, etc) and everytime england asks him how he died, france has an entirely new story ("heartattack" "mauled by bears" "suffocated on a grape") but secretly was just always a ghost but he wants to keep the mystery alive

:D

This is Francis’s house and hhs house alone!! He’s spooked every mortal out of his house within the last century. His house is from the 1800s. He didn’t die there or anything he just likes the hoshse so he was like “aight it’s mine now”

Arthur got a really good deal on the house since it was so old and no one would even check it out. He bought it after one visit! He isn’t afraid of ghosts so all of the folk stories he was told didnt scare him, he just found it funny

Francis was in physical pain as Arthur moved his stuff in. His floral couch is hideous. His closet is full of dull greens and khaki colored clothes with no flair. And he had the audacity to paint the kitchen yellow! Yellow! Francis couldn’t even float around there without gagging. His precious house was being ruined and of course he had to do something about it!

Arthur blacked out for an hour and when he came to he found himself painting the kitchen white. It had blue wallpaper before he painted it yellow- he thought the yellow was neat- why was he painting..? He didn’t rememeber painting. He wasn’t in paint clothes, there were no tarps on the ground...Arthur was somewhat shocked but just excused it as being tired. Turns out the kitchen looked better white so he finished the project and went along with his day

Arthur watches a lot of detective shows on channel 25. Francis knows that cooking shows are on 37. He’ll possess him long enough to change the channel and then sit down beside him to watch. “What the...stupid Telly” Art changes the channel back only to be possessed once again to put the cooking shows back on. He finally shuts the TV off and leaves Francis to stew on the ugly couch

Finally he can’t take this anymore!! He’s going mad!! Nkt Arthur, Francis is! He can’t take it! The ugly couches, the bad taste in entertainment, the hideous clothes, the Beatles!!! Francis finally shows himself and makes a big show out of it “Arthur Kirkland! This house belongs to me! Get your stuff and leave before I make you!” “Make me? You can’t make me-“ one minute Arthurs talking and the next he finds himself halfway through packing a suitcase “EXCUSE YOU!??? Ghost?!!?! What the fuck??”

Of course these two argue for over an hour about this. Arthur states that he will not leave and then Francis makes him do something stupid. First he made him pack the suitcase, then he made him pluck one eyebrow, then he made him put on a suit to look ‘presentable’ and finally he covered him in flour. Arthur kept punching the air like an idiot. Stupid englishman you can’t punch a ghost! He is thoroughly embarassed because he’s been bested by a dead man

Their rivalry runs deep. Arthur keeps making changes to the house that he knows Francis won’t like. He takes the carpet out of the livingroom and replaces it with hardwood floors. He gets rid of the rose wallpaper in the guest room, he sells the gaudy chandeliers and replaces them with practical fixtures, he gets a new oven which apparently upset Francis for the sole reason that ‘you’ll ruin that thing! You wasted $500! You’ll burn it and my house to the ground you fool!’

He kinda enjoys having him around cause Arthur is just the worst at making friends. Fran’s just interesting to listen to “So how’d you die again?” “Guillotine” “What? I thought you died in the 1700s?” “Mh, maybe” “What do you mean maybe??” “I dunno. I also died by poison, I chugged it and it was a great way to go out” “What is wrong with you?” “You know another fun way to go? Death by roller coaster” “You’re full of shit, Bonnefoy” “What about the time I swam with dolphins and drowned” “You’re too conceited to get your hair wet”

^^ “Wanna know how I really died?” “I suppose. Youve never told the truth before-“ “Got choked too hard” “...I really hate talking to you”

Francis snoops in Arthurs junk mail and hides it. So when Arthurs being more of an ass than usual he possesses him and forces him to sign up for magazine subscriptions. He gets six swimsuit model magazines every month now and Francis howls with laughter every time “Look at that one! She kinda looks like me” “Shut up, pervert, I know you got these for yourself!” “I signed you up for them because you’ve been awfully lonely lately I think you could use a girlfr-“ “Oh my god shut up!!!”

Francis possesses Arthur when he cooks which really annoys him “So?? I was making a grilled cheese?? Care to explain why I now have a whole rotisserie chicken in the oven???” “‘Grilled cheese’ is not dinner! And chicken sounded good” “You can’t eat??!!!” “I can smell it!!!”

Just a lotta arguing and old people shenanigans, it is what it is 👻👻