Work in progress shots of this year’s Hetavision project. If you’ve been following me on Twitter and Youtube you already know that, this year was the FIRST year EVER that I had to redraw characters. I’m so mad it’s not even funny.
The album covers will be released on April 1st as usual, however this year will include a poll, for fans to vote for their favorite ESC songs of 2017!
Midnight breakfast, waffles topped with ice cream and grapes and whatever candy they have lying around, eating until their stomachs ache, tossing the dishes in the sink with promises that we’ll wash them tomorrow even when they know they won’t. Morning wakeup calls with cups of tea and a cold nose pressed to the column of Harry’s throat, blinking awake to find Louis atop his hips and pinning his legs, smiling down at Harry and brandishing his cereal combination of the day that he’s willing to share for the price of a few kisses. Driving through the quiet streets of Manchester when they’ve got a few days off, sunglasses perched on his nose, Grimmy on the radio just so Harry can text Nick the jokes Louis makes about him, Louis pointing out every dog they pass because he knows Harry would want to see. Adventure, everyday adventures like grocery shopping or painting that bedroom they always meant to get to, and the kinds of adventures they have access to by being who they are: palatial resorts and pristine beaches and crowded city scenes. Loving each other in every corner of the world.
Laughter, wild, inescapable laughter. Laughter that makes Harry’s ribs sore, laughter that scratches at his throat, laughter that carves paths of tears down his face. There’s something about the look in Louis’ eye when he aims a joke specifically for Harry, a shine that makes Harry want to brace for impact; if they’re in public, he has to look away, to hide his wild grin behind his hands or a scrunched nose. But now Louis takes that as victory, too - he knows he’s won if Harry’s indifferently polite mask breaks. But, of course, the only thing better than Louis making him laugh is making Louis laugh. His uninhibited belly laugh when Harry throws him over his shoulder to carry him to their destination; his soft, sleepy chuckle when Harry gets back from a morning jog and worms his way back into bed for a cuddle; his delighted giggle when Harry brings home flowers or orders a pizza from that place he likes or unpacks his tour suitcase so he doesn’t have to. Laughter, bright and beautiful, when Harry lands a bad pun, laughter when Harry does his impression of Niall’s accent, laughter when they meet eyes across a party and can immediately tell what the other is thinking. Laughter through all their days, together or apart.
Moans and hiccups of breath in a night-silent bedroom. Keening cries, desperation laced through. Gasps when Harry’s fingers find the places, the ones that make him writhe, make him arch. Cries of ecstacy, shouts of right there, right there! Throat-wrenching pleasure. Or, sometimes, relative loudness: when they’ve snuck someplace they shouldn’t because their hands wouldn’t stay off each other, when the waiter says it’ll be another twenty minutes for their food and Louis’ been tracing his foot up Harry’s thigh, when the bar is hot and loud and Louis looks like everything Harry wants as he glitters under the pulsing lights, when the tour crew is trying to get them to stage but Louis has that look in his eye and so he steals Harry away to a cleaning cupboard - there, the loudness is muted, but potent. Soft hitches of breath, light intakes of air. Shh, they’ll hear. Whispers: Harry, please, Harry.
Louis is everything, he’s everything, he’s all Harry wants or needs or will ever wish for, but Harry can’t say that. There’s a camera crew waiting, they need an answer, something fun, something that won’t rip Harry’s heart open to say it, something that’ll rip him open anyway. How does he describe the other half of his soul? His reason for being, the better part of him in all he is? How could he sum up the man who has held his hand through the most turbulent years of his life, through the ups and downs of worldwide fame, who faced challenges and held on even tighter? They ask this as though words could describe what Louis is in Harry’s life, what he is in anyone’s life. He’s too much to be whittled down to characteristics. He’s too large a presence, he’s too important a soul. He’s too…
I never watched Cartoon Network unless I was at a hotel. But looking at it recently, I can understand everyone’s excitement when they announced his return. I’m already up to speed with the first 4 seasons, and I’m catching up with the darker one now.
I had to use pen tools for Jack, the sword, and that haunting warrior. But after that, I kind of rushed the background and used a previous drawing of Aku I had. The title I found on Google, because I really wanted to finish this without it feeling so empty.
(bc that court one healed me) Prompt: Imagine how happy Neil is (and Andrew even tho he wouldn't show it) when they end up on their first team together after the foxes????
okay i’m just:
them moving in together. neil joins andrew’s team and moves into andrew’s apartment, the one that he helped to choose on a long weekend during the hectic process of andrew’s trade. the one where the agent said, “oh, you brought a friend to look with you?” and neil giving her a glare vicious enough to strip paint
neil sells pretty much all the furniture from his old apartment because he doesn’t give a shit about it, but he does bring: a collection of kitchen knives that dan gave him as a ‘welcome-to-graduated-life’ present with the caveat that he didn’t cut himself, a small collection of books given to him by his old neighbour who has a taste for sci-fi and dystopia (he thinks andrew will like them), and a large number of photos from the last several years that he covers half a wall with
(he looks at them one by one as he takes them down to pack them, smiling a little with the fondness and nostalgia they evoke)
andrew picking him up from the airport, meeting him not inside the terminal but out in the parking lot, where they can stand very close and talk for a little while in something that almost feels like a welcome home to neil
andrew doesn’t use all the drawers in his dresser, so neil takes half of them for his stuff. he debates buying a second dresser but writes it off as a waste of time
he returns: a pair of sweatpants, a pair of sneakers that andrew left last time he was in town, 2 hoodies with minyard on them, and a shirt that he only theoretically returns, seeing as it goes in with the rest of his own clothes. he’s keeping that one
he gets in return: 4 pairs of socks that andrew has somehow stolen from him, and a stretched-out t-shirt that he takes to wearing because andrew’s expression gets intense when it gapes to show his collar bones
he likes andrew’s bed, but he brings the sheets he bought himself as spares. the second he’s not looking andrew throws them out because they’re shitty quality and he didn’t live this long to have to sleep with sheets that feel vaguely plastic when you lie on them
(neil likes andrew’s bed, and he likes andrew in andrew’s bed, and he likes being with andrew in andrew’s bed. except now it’s their bed. a brief break in unpacking (not a long process anyway) is likely made to take advantage of this fact)
andrew hasn’t done anything about the interior paint, which is neutral creams and beiges except for the one bright red wall in the living room. on the day neil moves in, andrew comes into said living room to find neil staring at the red wall with a blank expression. he waits him out until he blinks, breathing just a little too fast, and says, “blue?”
andrew nods (he doesn’t care) (he cares about things that put that expression on neil’s face) (they go paint shopping the next weekend and neil ends up with spatters of it in his hair which stubbornly refuse to wash out)
just neil finding room for himself in andrew’s space, which is easy!! because andrew is right there making room for him!!!!
neil coming out of the bedroom after putting up all his photos and finding andrew on the couch, on his phone, and just. climbing onto the couch and putting his head in andrew’s lap and saying, “now you’re really going to have to work to get rid of me”
and andrew saying, “you know i can’t turn down a challenge”
except that his fingers are already in neil’s hair, and neil looks up at him with an expression that says you’re not going to get rid of me, all quirked mouth and eyes like goddamned stars, and fuck him if he isn’t right
(renee sends housewarming flowers even though andrew has been living there for a year. neither of them know what to do with flowers but neil is willing to do an internet search to find out)
(matt emails a bunch of hideous ‘congratulations on your wedding’ e-cards with flowers and ribbons and wedding rings on that neil never ever shows andrew)
their first practice together, the coach introduces neil to the entire team as though he has no idea that neil and andrew are together. he actually does know, but he’s the only one, and he has a bet with the defence coach on how long it’s going to take his players to catch on
it’s not like they don’t know who neil josten is. they’ve been speculating about his arrival for weeks, since they heard who their new signing was going to be (andrew hasn’t said a word, only glared at someone who asked what it was like to play with the guy in college. the questions died off after that)
neil’s exactly what they expected in practice - fast, cool-eyed and sharp-tongued, shorter in real life than he looks on TV, reckless to the point of self-injury. good. scores on andrew and yells “better luck next time, minyard” like an asshole, and somehow doesn’t get a ball to the helmet
he’s not quite like what they expected out of it - sticks close to andrew, smiles more sweetly than someone who talks like that should be able to, defers to the coaches. ‘nice’ isn’t the right word for him, but it’s kind of hard to hate him. except when he opens his mouth
their team winning, and neil being the only one to approach andrew (the others have well and truly figured out he doesn’t care for the celebration aspect of winning by now), speaking to him with his head bowed and pulling away with a smile over his face. andrew still looks bored, unless you happen to know him well enough
(the others don’t figure it out until neil casually refers to the apartment as ‘ours’, and then doesn’t lie when they ask who he lives with, and also clarifies without pause that they aren’t just roommates in a subtle but unmissable way. they’re insufferable for weeks about it, in a good-natured way)
(andrew still considers killing all of them. neil included)
a few weeks into cohabitation, round 2: neil looking over his shoulder where he’s standing in front of the open fridge and smiling a little - and then pausing at the expression on andrew’s face. saying, shy, “I like being here”
andrew saying, “close the fridge. we have an air conditioner”