#drunk cy

[kudzucataclysm]

this country should return to the days where politicians could bring a semi-functional nuclear weapon to Congress

#i think that would help a lot of things #kudzu opinions #drunk cy

[rickxation]

The true test of love: Sharing a bed haha @ricksanchez-z420

#they moved in together ;u; #sad circumstances unfortunately but they're such a cute lil family now #cy #zee #ill post the little fic maybe #but basically cy took the kids from his awful drunk beth #so now theyre a family aaaaa so cute #just two sleepy rick dads now ;u; #rick ocs

[monzabee]

baby honey – al12

masterlist

Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!

Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort” + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend. 

Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off. 

“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom. 

You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick. 

“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.” 

“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.” 

“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!” 

The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?” 

“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head. 

“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress. 

“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought. 

Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.” 

“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”

“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?” 

Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.” 

“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.” 

“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?” 

“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.” 

Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.” 

“We look each other normally.” 

“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces. 

“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”

“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.  

“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.” 

Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.” 

“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.

Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?” 

“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?” 

“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal. 

“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.” 

Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.” 

“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.

However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.

“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.

“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.

“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal. 

Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.

It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in. 

“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face. 

You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.” 

“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.” 

You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?” 

He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.” 

“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.” 

“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”

You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.” 

“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.” 

“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.” 

“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks. 

“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?” 

He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.” 

You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?” 

Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.

There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face. 

A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections. 

“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well. 

“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?” 

“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?” 

“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.” 

You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.” 

Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” 

You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.” 

“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.” 

You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.” 

Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns. 

“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?” 

He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”

“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.” 

“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?” 

It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him. 

“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him. 

“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.” 

You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”

He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.

“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment. 

Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment. 

You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!” 

“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents. 

You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.” 

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.” 

“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take. 

He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.” 

“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” He calls out. 

You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.” 

He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.” 

“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side. 

“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms. 

You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?” 

“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”

“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”

You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice. 

“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”

“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”

He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”

“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!” 

“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”

“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”

He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!” 

“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.

“No.” Comes his reply. 

“So, you don’t like me?” 

His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–” 

“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.

“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”

“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.” 

“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”

“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.” 

“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled. 

You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”

“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him. 

“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face. 

You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.” 

“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.” 

“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips. 

“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle. 

“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.” 

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #arthur leclerc smut #arthur lecler fluff

[extreme-neutral]

Cy won a bet!

But at what cost...

Prank Practice with @westealtoys for drawing from ref gone sexual too far. To the point there was a story!

The story is: they got blackout drunk.

Rules of the drunken bet: whoever steals 3 red things that can be worn first - wins. Whoever loses wears the things.

Can you guess the rest?

Ryder belongs to @westealtoys 🖤 Her take here

#no I didn't come up with the story after the art was done 💥🔫 #fhr #Sidestep #Ryder Becker #Cyrus Becker #my art #Ok high heels idea was an instigator and totally WST's fault #(that's the legend behind Ryder being taller here) #I really got into it way harder than expected #sorry it took so long Aga and thank you for the idea! #artists on tumblr

[honeyteawrites]

4ggravate headcanons! When they’re drunk: 

Cyno: Emotional in a melancholy way. There will be a deep sorrow in his eyes that you almost can’t look away from. No one likes seeing Cyno drunk because it’s unsettling. Fortunately, he doesn’t drink much.

Al-Haitham: Does a bunch of nerd rambling for a while, then he gets sleepy. People will still be partying and he’ll be asleep on a couch or table somewhere. Haitham doesn’t get drunk often. After all, he has plenty of snacks and he’s big.

Kaveh: Emotional af in a bratty sobby way. He’s a messy crier too. A lightweight that says some things that he definitely wouldn’t say sober. You can easily get Kaveh to spill his secrets in this way. (canon)

Tighnari: Has never been seen drunk before? Terrifying tolerance, especially since he’s short. Someone has to take care of the others and drag them back home.

Extra silly scenario, click read more to see the rest! 438 words of Cyno’s embarrassing yearning. (cyhaino flavored because I can’t shut up about them…):

Haitham finishes rambling about a book series that he recently completed before passing out on the tavern table. It’s a rare sight to see him this drunk. His friends only saw moments like this as an annoyance since drunk Haitham wasn’t particularly interesting and someone always had to drag him back home. He begins lightly snoring, cheek pressed against sleek wood. 

Cyno sits across Haitham with his head resting on his arms. He always felt an indescribable sorrow whenever he got drunk. At times like this, he disappears to some corner of the tavern to sulk. Tonight, Haitham somehow managed to find him only to be equally as drunk. Cyno let his dreary thoughts fade into the back of his mind as he listened to Haitham’s book plot analysis.

It was only a momentary distraction. Now, Haitham had fallen asleep in front of him. Cyno mindlessly plays with the sprout-like strands of hair on Haitham’s head. He looks around before staring back at Haitham’s sleeping face. Kaveh and Tighnari were out of sight. No one could see the longing in Cyno’s eyes, not even Haitham. He gently cups the taller man’s cheek and sighs. 

“Cy-” Kaveh hiccups from behind Cyno. 

Cyno yelps and instantly draws his hand back. He could only look back at Kaveh in horror. A finished beer glass was in his hand. To no one’s surprise, the resident lightweight was drunk. Cyno sinks into his arms and sighs again. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Kaveh drunkenly stumbling over to the table. 

“Cy… I’m talking to you.” 

Cyno snaps up straight. 

“What do you have to say, Kaveh?” 

“You know that Haitham likes you too, right? In a grossly romantic way, since he’s secretly into theatrics and all. Although, I’m sure that’s how you feel too. I’m drunk as hell right now, but even I can see the yearning in your eyes.”

Kaveh laughs as Cyno looks at him hopefully. “Do you even believe me? You should see the things that he writes about you-” Kaveh is interrupted as Tighnari comes and smacks him hard in the back, right where the opening in his shirt is. 

“Kaveh. You foolish drunk! Did you forget about the bet that we made about them? YOU RUINED IT. Be ready to pay up soon.” 

“Nari please- I’m already indebted to that big green nerd-” he sobs. 

To Cyno, their voices fade into the background. He can only think about the comforting feeling rising in his chest as he looks at the man in front of him. Eventually, he falls asleep as peacefully as Haitham.

#genshin impact #4ggravate #cyno #al-haitham #kaveh #tighnari #cyhaino #cytham #haino #genshin impact headcanons #headcanons #honeyteawrites

[enthyrea]

hi storm hope you're well :0 here's your reminder to drink water and eat something if you haven't already!!!

can I ask about your fav macheresin headcanons??

HI CY i love you! i just had lunch <3 hope you are hydrated and well!

i have soooo many headcanons for these two idiots. its actually insane. these are disorganized sorry

my personal fav rn is like. they are so telepathically connected that even pre-relationship, if one of them is getting hit on at a bar, the other just magically appears behind them like "is this guy bothering you, baby?" and they both fall into that fake-fiancee shtick SOOO fast. they do it constantly to the point where some people actually think they are engaged.

they would have a marriage pact like "if we arent married by 30 we have to get engaged" and they're serious about it but in a bro way. then jake turns 30, they get engaged for real because ofc and then feelings start to show? after the GLOC incident jake claims to be javy's husband to get past hospital staff to see him, and the daggers are like "YALL ARE MARRIED??" and then it just devolves from there and they realize oh. yeah we actually do like each other (i have a whole riff about this that i've been thinking of writing lol)

jake's love language as acts of service <3 he memorizes the recipe for javy's favorite gumbo and makes it for his birthday/whenever javy's feeling particularly homesick !!

ALSO. i think they're very "practically married but oblivious" like they 'save money' by living together (its totally not because they feel so much more comfortable staying with the other) saving on heating bills by cuddling. platonically. of course. like literally

bob: one time i ran into them while they were at the flower gardens on valentines day. they told me it wasnt a date and they just wanted to take advantage of the free couple's package reuben: oh so they're hopeless

its to the point where their respective families actually think they're together. two of jake's sisters think he's already married to javy. javy's dad is convinced they're just long term pranking him. considering javy brings jake home for thanksgiving every year without fail, his dad is about to strangle him if he doesnt confess and or get married to this white boy TOMORROW

basically i think they're very stupid but i am obsessed with them and their frat boy energy.

(also related but post-getting together: when javy gets drunk he just starts blabbering about jake to anyone who will listen (no one wants to listen) meanwhile drunk jake is just falling over himself tryna kiss javy while javy's like "down boy! no! not in public!" (he is weak and will eventually give up and let jake smother him in kisses))

#not my art #just chatting #macheresin #hangman x coyote #coyote x hangman #top gun maverick #top gun headcanons

[feast-upon-my-words]

"I think I love you"

Kaeya albereich x gn!reader

Summary: modern au, childhood friends to lovers: kaeya finally drunkenly confesses his feelings for you.

Cw: alchohol consumption. Use of they/them pronouns for reader

___________________________________

It was that strange time between early and late when your phone started blaring your familiar, obnoxious ringtone. You didn't remember it being so loud before, except now that it was 2am and you were barely awake, it was more like a siren than anything else. You reluctantly turned over to face your table and began fumbling around to find your phone; either to answer it or throw it out the window you werent sure which until you saw the number displayed on the screen.

"What the fuck kaeya?" You could hear the fatigue in your voice, it was croaky and raw and sounded like shit.

"HI!" He yelled from the other side of the line. He was very clearly drunk and you could hear the irritating sound of club music playing behind him in the background. "HI bestieeeee... how u doinnnnn?" Yep. Very drunk. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and swinging your legs over the side of the bed to push your feet into your slippers.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get you." You walked over to your chair and took your coat from where you'd dumped it the night before; pulling it on over your pyjamas and trudging slowly downstairs.

"Noooooooooo..." He whined, but you had already grabbed your keys and started marching out the door to your car. "Tough, I'm on my way; you are way too drunk to get a cab." You heard kaeya audibly gasp over the speaker.

"I am NOT DRUNK!" He slurred, pulling the phone away from his ear and showing his middle finger to the camera in defiance, forgetting the fact that it was a voice call. "Sure you're not, kaeya..." You deadpanned.

The line went quiet as you drove in silence, not wanting to hang up just to make sure he was okay. After about 10 minutes, you came to a set of lights, annoyingly flashing red despite the road being completely empty. You huffed and leant backwards into your seat and waited for the signal to go.

"You know what?" Kaeya's voice came quieter than before from the speaker in your car, as though he was doing a very bad attempt at whispering.

"What's that kaeya?" You sighed.

"I have a secret... but don't tell y/n" he was definitely trying to whisper now, although he sounded more like a chainsmoker than anything. You hummed in response, paying more attention to the road rather than to him.

"I think I love them..." He giggled slightly after the words left his mouth. You sat in shock, even as the lights turned green, your foot stayed stationary on the pedal. Your face went red and your eyes damn near popped out of your head. The line went silent again, and for a while you just sat there in your suitty leather car seat, stewing in your own disbelief.

"Do you think they like me back?..." He sounded less giggly now, more serious; as if he'd been sober the whole time.

For a while you didn't make a sound. The world seemed to pause for the longest time, as though the both of you were suspended within one moment that's seemed to drag on forever.

You rubbed your face, looking up to see the light was red once again. "Yeah..." You smiled slightly. "Maybe."

_________________________________________

3rd fic for @cy-inky 's 1WEEKCHL... despite it being Saturday... IM SORRY BESTIE!! I GOT SICK :(

anyhoo, bonne appetit

#kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #1weekchl #word-feasts

[cookstorys]

𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑

_____________

Character- Everett

Show/Movie- Wolf Pack

Warning- Mentions of weed and shrooms, teenagers partying, gets a little spicy at the end.

Author Note - I never had any of the stuff mentioned in this story so my bad if it’s not accurate 💀

Females Dni

_____________

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember inviting..you.” Phoebe looks towards Harlan with a strong mean mug. “And we accept your apology, now if you don’t mind.” Harlan attempted to push past the blonde but she held her ground. Harlan looked down in defeat before being nudged to the side a tad bit. “Phoebe, poor white girl Phoebe. How can you turn down this.” [Name] smirked as he pulled out a bag of shrooms and a separate one with rolled-up joints. Phoebe was going to regret it but quickly got pushed out of the way by her, extremely drunk, best friend. “Yay, more drugs.”

You chuckled at the blonde girl and then walked passed her, your friends not far behind. “I thought I told you to not bring that,” Everett argued falling behind the group of teens. “I admit it’s not my best moment but I had to do what I had to do. Baby, don’t worry. I got you and us.” Everett blushed at that statement. “Whatever asshole.” He swiftly sent a punch to your arm and then gathered with the others outside.

You shook your head at the scene in front of you. Most of the teens were either drunk, high, or both. You looked at your boyfriend with a smirk. “No, you promised [name] you promised.” Everett urged already regretting his choice to come here. “I promise I’ll just take one hit. I can barely get a good buzz from one hit.” Everett looked tense while weighing his options but he eventually chose to trust you. “One hit. That’s it..” You smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

You walked around the pool and came to a stop in front of Cyrus. “Hey Cy, can you hit me up with a joint.” Cyrus looked at you suspiciously. Sure, you and Cyrus had a tad bit of history but nothing too extreme. A make-out here and there but never anything more. “Didn’t you just bring a bag of them?” You tried to hold back a laugh. “Between me and you, that bag is filled with a bunch of fake joints I made on the ride here.” You laughed. Cyrus looked at you disappointed but eventually started laughing too. “You know what, free joint on the house.” He laughed. As your hand reached out for the blunt Everett caught your attention. You weren’t excepting to see your innocent, sweet, boyfriend take a shroom. “Oh hell no.” You mumbled and practically sprinted to the group.

“Are you guys seriously letting him take drugs?” You fussed at the two, Harlan and Blake, with disappointment in your voice. “Loosen up [name]. He has already.” Harlan pointed which was followed by his and Blake’s giggles. Across the pool area was a dancing Everett. He was very close to stripping naked if you hadn’t stopped him. “Let’s go sit down for a while.” You sighed.

___________________

“This is boring.” Everett cried. You couldn’t trust him by himself while being high so you just thought it’ll be best if you and he sat for the majority of the party. “Everett you’re still high.” Everett rolled his eyes at your response. “I started sobering up about 10 minutes ago. Let’s go have some fun.” He smirked. He stood from his seat to take his shirt and pants off, leaving him shirtless with just his swim shorts. You had to admit the boy’s body had a habit of putting you in a trance every time you saw it. He jumped into the pool with a splash. “Come join baby.” He urged biting his lip and eyeing you.

Evertt looked so fucking hot right now. Normally you would’ve objected but he was practically begging you to get in with him and what type of boyfriend would you be to refuse? After a deep long sigh of defeat, you walked towards the pool and then jumped in, splashing Everett on your way down. “Was that necessary?” Everett questioned with a laugh. “Yes, I’ll take any chance I can get to make you wet for me.” You inched closer and closer toward the mixed boy. “That was so cringe but soo hot.” His breath hitched by your face’s being so close. He could’ve sworn he forgot how to breathe. Your mouth was inches from his begging to connect. “Sex?” He asked. You quickly confirmed with a nod. “Sex.” He immediately stood out at the pool, with you behind him. You both laughed like kids at a candy shop as you ran upstairs into the house for some privacy.

#cookstorys #male reader #wolf pack #wolf pack x male reader #everett #everett x male reader

[kudzucataclysm]

TOKYO CALLING‼️‼️📞🗾

#drunk cy

[st-rayy]

Is it alright if I ask for a songfic of Loverman by Ricky Montgomery for cynonari (romantic)

(tysm)

Sorry it took me so long to finally write this!! I didn't know how to write the ending so I kinda didn't? LOL I hope this is to your liking :3 Rough word count: 1745

─────────────────

I miss my lover | CyNari Songfic - Mr. Loverman by Ricky Montgomery

A warm red colour spread on the sun kissed skin, embracing freckles and almost unnoticeable scars. White curly hair grazes against the slightly pink tinted cheeks of one General Mahamatra.

Cyno had decided to go out for drinks that evening. It might be unusual for those who don’t know Cyno that well but his friends were used to this behaviour. It was something the white haired man would do whenever he felt lonely and wanted to drown down those feelings, which is quite a sad sight if they were honest.

It all started once Cyno and Tighnari had made it official to their close friends that they were more than just best friends. The general Mahamatra would occasionally, at least once a week, go out to drink with Kaveh in the evening (he tried to convince himself that it was Kaveh’s fault he did) and he always ended up being more than tipsy past midnight.

It was no problem, Cyno is a quiet drunk. Barely anybody would’ve even noticed he was drunk if it weren’t for his face to flush a bright red from the alcohol.

This continued until Tighnari had returned to the Akademiya to stay for a few days. When Tighnari was back Cyno had always declined to go out drinking with Kaveh.

But just a week after Tighnari had left for Gandharva Ville again, Cyno would fall back into the habit of going to drink with Kaveh. The blonde was worried about Cyno, he was always certain something was bothering Cyno and he felt dumb when he realised almost a year after Cyno made a habit to drown his sorrows in Alcohol.

“Cyno, I want to ask you something .” Kaveh said that evening when they went out to drink once again.

The white haired man sipped on the wine silently and nodded his head. His cheeks were fairly reddened already meaning that Cyno must’ve been tipsy, at least.

“You drink to drown your feelings, don’t you?”

Silence. Big round eyes stared at Kaveh, almost as if surprised by the blondes question. Slowly, Cyno closed his mouth again and swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t offer more than a silent nod of confirmation.

“Is this about Tighnari?”

“Shut up.”

Bingo, now that Kaveh knew what the problem was he smiled at Cyno. He couldn’t relate with Cyno as he never had a far distant relationship, but the blonde was determined to help his buddy.

After giving it some though, Kaveh settled on just being as straightforward and bold as he could be. “Tell me about them. Your feelings, I mean. You always listen to me whine so I want to do the same for you.”

Cyno didn’t answer at first. His soft red eyes averted from Kaveh’s wine red ones.

The blonde watched his friend struggle with the words and sighed. He knew this wouldn’t be easy but it would be a great relieve for Cyno. The stool squeaked over the floor as Kaveh scooted closer to the general. A firm hand held Cyno’s shoulder and pulled him in for an embrace.

In an instant, Cyno could feel the tears stinging in his eyes. Eventually he just cracked and all pent up emotions that he so desperatly tried to drown with the alcohol spilled out of Cyno.

He weeped silently in Kaveh’s arms. How embarassing to cry like that out in public, though  the other custumors didn’t seem to care or notice. The architect next to Cyno soothingly caressed his back, muttring words like “It’s okay” and “Let it all out, Cy” over and over again.

And it felt so good to finally let it out, to finally feel that pressure on Cyno’s chest leave him. It was something the white haired man had not noticed he needed. Someone’s embrace, someone’s attention, someone to take care of him.

Tighnari wasn’t here.

And Cyno missed him so damn much.

He was like a toddler on the first day of kindergarden, crying and whining as their mother leaves the room. Just like that.

Eventually, Cyno started to mutter words, complains whatever came to his mind. He just talked and rambled and Kaveh listened to him. He had the architects undivided attention and it felt damn good to have someone listen to him.

The tears stopped flowing but the general remained in Kaveh’s embrace.

“I miss him”

“I know… You’ll see him soon, Cy”

“I wish he was here right now.”

“I know.”

Kaveh knew. Kaveh knew pretty damn well. Never had the blonde ever seen Cyno this emotional… this vulnerable. The embrace tightened and Cyno couldn’t be more thankful for Kaveh.

The next morning, Cyno could only vaguely remember what had happened. He remembered crying and he remembered Kaveh embracing him soothingly. Speaking of the blonde, Cyno had his head laying on his best friend’s lap. Kaveh was fast asleep and Cyno recalled a few words the architect told him.

“Grab your things and visit him. ‘Haitham wouldn’t mind if you called in sick for a day to skip work.”

“But-“

“Besides, you ARE sick. Emotionally sick, go see him, Cy.”

Whether the general had agreed or not, he couldn’t remember. However, he was determined to see Tighnari, hold him in his arms and kiss the fox’s forhead.

Leaving a not for Kaveh, Cyno got ready and made his way to Gandharva Ville. He ran and ran, not stopping once, not even when his lungs screamed for him to take a break and his feet begged him to slow down. He couldn’t take it anymore – he needed to see Tighnari so badly.

The afternoon sun burnt on Cyno’s cheeks and with heavy breathes the general reached his goal. The questioning looks were ignored quickly and without even thinking about it Cyno ran to Tighnari as soon as he caught sight of him.

The fox was pulled into a bone-crushing embrace from behind and even if Tighnari has been aware that Cyno was here, he was still confused and suprised by the sudden appearance.

“Cyno-“ Tighnari let out a painful grunt and swat his lovers arm. “You’re crushing me!”

The general, however, buried his face in Tighnari’s shoulder. He was happy – unbelievably happy to have Tighnari in his arms again after several months of not actually seeing his lover.

Once Cyno realised the hits against his arm he loosened his embrace and mumbled an apology. Without a word, Tighnari turned around to hug the smaller man as well. It seemed as if time had stopped while they embraced each other. Only when Collei called out to them had they parted. The green haired girl seemed overjoyed to see her dad again and embraced him as well.

“Da- Cyno! Welcome back!” Collei beamed. The faint red on her cheeks and the wide smile had been something Cyno had unconciously wanted to see on his daughter’s face.

They chit-chatted for a while, until Tighnari lead Cyno to the hut and excused himself for work. Cyno understood, he did really. Yet he couldn’t help but feel dread when Tighnari had left him all alone in the hut again.

There was not much to do for Cyno. So, he cooked dinner for the family and when evening arrived they ate in a comforting silence.

Collei had disappeared in her room, saying something about needing to study while Cyno and Tighnari remained in the kitchen. For a moment, Cyno didn’t think he deserved any of this. A desert dweller like him, to work at the akademiya and have such a loving family.

Not many people knew, but Cyno had his doubts. Had his struggles with feeling worthy enough to hold something like the spirit inside him, have something like this loving family, to work such a mighty job as General Mahamatra for the akademiya.

Noticing Cyno’s silence, Tighnari spoke up while cleaning the dishes.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Silence. Cyno was lost in thought, mindlessly staring at the floore while he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms above his chest. The lack of response caused the forest ranger to stop and raise his head.

“Cyno?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you a question.”

Red eyes slowly searched for a pair of beautiful brown-green ones. It was something that happened so many times already the past few years. Something so small, simple eye contact, yet Cyno’s heart skipped a beat and a blush spread on his cheeks.

“I- Uhm..”

The general was at a loss for words. The light of the setting sun illuminated the room and Tighnari’s face in the hue of warm colours, pink, magenta, orange… Cyno made a face and Tighnari stared at him confused before bursting out in laughter.

“Cy, what’s up with you?”

A pout. Seeing Cyno pout like that was a suprise but Tighnari didn’t mind. The fox put the dishes away, dried his hands and cupped Cyno’s face, gently squishing the generals cheek’s with his fingers.

“You showed up here out of nowhere and now you’re acting all shy and flustered… you’re worrying me…”

Cyno swallowed the lump in his throat and  averted his eyes while he grumbled something inaudibly, it didn’t even sound like it were actual words.

“What was that?”

“I said I love you.”

The fox raised his brows but then chuckled and kissed Cyno. “I love you too.”

For some reason, hearing those words clicked something in the general’s mind. He couldn’t control the tears that formed in his eyes and then dared to roll down his cheeks. Tighnari was alarmed immediately and hurridly asked Cyno various questoins as to why he was crying and if he was hurt anywhere.

“No… I’m… I’m just so damn happy.”

And now, the forest ranger was completely lost. Wiping away Cyno’s tears, Tighnari leaned his forehead against Cyno’s. He’d just take Cyno by his words and trust that those tears were truly caused by happiness.

“I missed you.” Cyno suddenly spoke up and wrapped his arms around Tighnari’s waist.

“I missed you.” He repeated his words and sniffled softly before starting to full-on cry again like he had done yesterday.

Was Tighnari surprised? Not really. Did Tighnari feel happy to hear those words regardless? Definitely. A small smile formed on the fox’s lips and he couldn’t help but cry as well – he felt the same way. He had missed Cyno so very much, too.

“Me too.” Tighnari whispered, as if he was scared to break Cyno. “I missed you too, love.”

“It’s okay…”

“I’m here now.”

#genshin impact #fanfiction #cynari #cyno #cyno x tighnari #cynonari #genshin cyno #genshin tighnari #m/m #songfic #fanfiction writer #fan fiction #fanfictions #genshin fanfic #male x male

[oldblood]

here are my top 9 albums of 2023! i was tagged by the lovely @nurlet (thank you amir <3)

list of albums & artists from left to right: dogsbody - model/actriz | voltaic - björk | beloved! paradise! jazz?! - mckinley dixon | sketches for my sweetheart the drunk - jeff buckley | endure - special interest | murder of the universe - king gizzard and the lizard wizard | quarteto em cy - quarteto em cy | the fifth season - lafawndah | buli povo ! (limited dance edition nr. 8) - antónio sanches

tagging no one bc idk who's v into music but please say i tagged u if you want to do this

#murder of the universe shouldn't really count bc i avoid playing the third suite (i like it but the vomit talk makes me feel sick) #but i played the first two a lot lot #t.

[wonda-fhr]

Inspired by the awesome picture from @westealtoys, I have adapted the New Year's party to which David and Ric are on their way to in Running late.

It was so empty without any familiar faces, I hope it's okay that I borrowed some of yours, @m3k-fhr, @extreme-neutral, @just-a-tiny-goldfish. The idea of having them all in the same room feels so good. <3 This really is the very last piece of writing this year ;) David's view across a New Year's Eve party under the cut.

New Year's party

"There you are at last, I was afraid you were going to let us starve." Despite the reproaches, Daniel greeted his guests with a smile on his lips and took the large cooler from David. "Come on in, there's a table in the back of the living room for the buffet. Angie's sweets already take up half the space."

"Then you would have survived without us, assuming she gives some away." Ortega joked and followed Daniel to the buffet table with the second box.

For the first time in Daniel's spacious apartment, David stopped at the entrance to the living room and took a detailed look around. The place was large, bright and friendly.

Every corner was decorated with gold and silver streamers. Two bunches of shiny balloons lined the buffet table, and glittering party hats and funny paper masks on wooden sticks were piled in a box on the sofa. In the center of the room was a festively laid table, its white tablecloth covered with glittering golden year numbers.

They had already missed the champagne reception, all the guests scattered around the room had already half drunk their first glass and were busy chatting or arranging the "everyone bring something" buffet.

Orellia was arguing with Angie about the positioning of the little sweet treats, some of which were already missing from the plate. Oro insisted on her innocence, cleverly hiding the hand with the traces of melted chocolate under the edge of the plate. Behind Argent's back, Julia stole another piece, leaving a hole in the neatly arranged plate, and winked mischievously at Oro.

At the window, Chen and Ryder looked out into the night. Golden streamers and glittering mini-hats showed that they had already been infected by the cheerful New Year's atmosphere. They both smiled at something no one else had heard and toasted with the last bit of champagne in their glasses before finally emptying them.

Chen was too distracted to notice Marcos grabbing the first canapé from the silver platters Daniel and Ric were adding to the buffet. Spoon's wide, pleading eyes never left his friend, who lured him behind the sofa and shared the delicious salmon snack with the hungry dog.

In the corner of the room stood a grinning Cy, lovingly holding the frog that so often accompanied him. Uncharacteristically exuberant, Cyn carefully tried to place a New Year's hat on Frederic's head, the camera ready for the new year's snapshot in the other hand. The little frog watched the tiny hat hovering above him, smiling curiously, causing his two observers to grin wider and wider.

David watched the scene in front of him as if glued to it, so this was what it felt like to have friends, to belong and to look into a completely undefined future. He jumped slightly when Lia planted a kiss on his cheek and took his hand.

"Are you ready to have fun tonight? Or have you both had enough in the time you've been late?"

"I think I can handle a little more fun tonight. I'll just enjoy this wonderful sight for a moment."

His smile grew as the scene was completed by a firework of colors and glitter as Justin emerged from the kitchen, juggling two full champagne glasses on a tray. He handed him one, hooked his arm in David's, kissed his other cheek and said, "Ready to ring in the new year with us, darling?" "With all of you? Absolutely."

#would love to have all the steps in one room for a big party #thank you for the wonderful year with you fhr family #wonda writes

[thelastyetfabolousmidwestmadman]

Everything We Know About Deadwood's Fourth and Fifth Season

The first episode would be the original season 3 finale. Bullock would refuse to resign and lock himself in his office in defiance until Al would come up and make a speech about how George Washington when asked to become king by the continental congress "Sheathed his sword" in response saying that this new nation would become a government of laws instead of man and so that's what Bullock must do as well. Ultimately Bullock is convinced and respects the electoral process.

The Series would end with Bullock, Charlie, and Jane leaving Deadwood, with Bullock leaving to become a US Marshall.

Al Swearengin would slowly lose power and influence over the camp over the course of the season, growing sicker and weaker from alcoholism.

At some point mid season the entire camp would burst in flame due to some "Jackass with fireworks", finally following through with build up throughout the series.

A flood would happen at some point to further destroy the town.

Manning would slowly be corrupted by Hearst.

Doc Holliday would appear

Jack Langrishe would encourage Alma to become a novelist.

The Love triangle between Bullock, Alma, and Martha would end in "status quo ante bellum" and be depressing.

The Earp brothers would return.

William Levingston the father of Standard Oil founder John D. Rockefeller and notorious bigamist psychopath would be the main antagonist of season 4. He'd be a conman selling medicine with a "Indian" (Actually a black man named Johnson) which would actually be booze, resulting in a conflict with Doc Cochran. Eventually Yellow Journalists would swarm the camp due to bounties offered by newspapers for evidence of his fathers wereabouts.

Aunt Lou would be explored and would open a restaurant

The Chinatown would be important and the following seasons would examine the ugliness of race relations in America during this period

Jane and Joanie would enter in a relationship that ends bittersweet.

General Fields taking care of Steve the Drunk would be a plotline

The town would be booming and growing larger, with Bullock struggling being fire chief.

Doc Cochran would die of tuberculosis

Langrishe and Al would form a rivalry

Johnny would go against Al, forcing Silas and Dan to take sides

The Theater Group and Jack Langrishe in general would be seen as Hearst's foil as they are trying to bring civilization in a humane way. The girl Claudia is Langrishe's daughter.

Hearst would return at some point and a lot of what happened in the movie would take a entire season long. Hearst would also buy out Merrick's newspapers, break a strike, rig elections, and bribe judges in an attempt to get his way while the town fights back against him.

Cy would have a complete mental breakdown and redemption arc.

Al would become more unstable and back to his season 1 personality due to alcohol abuse.

Martha would open up a school and become a leading member of society

90% of what happened in real life during this period would be replicated in the show, the rest being creative liberties.

Charlie would ask Joanie to marry him.

Sol being a mayor would be a major season 4 plot point, he and Trixie would get married and have a child

Al would be broke due to the banning of prostitution

Wild Bill's murder would be reenacted at some point, this becoming a town tradition.

Keep in mind that according to Milch some of these ideas may be reworked or cut had the season been greenlit, and Deadwood was a collaborative set, so the actors would add their own ideas as well.

#deadwood #al swearengen #seth bullock #charlie utter #sol star #Welcome the fuck back #calamity jane #george heast #history #cowboy #old west #the gilded age #gold #whitney ellsworth #joanie stubbs #Cy Tollivar #mr wu #wild west #western

[soulc-hilde]

Ch. 02 - No Good Fridays

A/N: Even though the gif would've been perfect for the first chapter seeing as this happened in episode 1, I'll still use it because Jeremy's face is just perfect!

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Black!OFC

Warning(s): Follows the FX tv show, Shameless, viewer discretion be advised. Depictions of grooming as well as non-consensual acts being mentioned, depictions and ideations of suicide, depictions of drug and alcohol abuse, racial and homophobic slurs, mentions of CPS/CYS and foster care, depictions and mentions of consensual sexual acts, depictions of violence (gun and maybe gang), depictions of mental health, depictions of inherited addiction, and so much fucking more.

Synopsis: All Lip Gallagher ever had was family and despite the praise over his intellect, the health and wellbeing of his people were far more important than him furthering his education. Lecroy was a young girl destined to face abandonment until the Gallagher clan came through. Using her own skillset and connects to build a better life for those she loves, she ties Lip and his family to her hip.

Two of the greatest events in television history will broadcast tonight. One - The UFC pay-per-view and two - The Deadliest Catch Season Finale. Such a big event, that Frank went as far as trying to tie his soiled hair in a ponytail before meeting his little friends at the Alibi. Behind him, two cars pull in at the same time. Steve and Ian jump out the black BMW coupe with bags in their hands while Lecroy follows suit.

As the crew began to set up before the show, Lecroy's once relaxed posture turns fridged at the sight of Karen in the living room with Lip. Rather than greeting the boy, she walks past him and into the kitchen with Ian and Steve to grab the food.

"Burgers comin' through," Ian sings, leaving the kitchen. Fiona turns over her shoulder, "uh, Lip, napkins." Karen takes a step forward, "I can do it," but Lip was already ahead of her. "I got it," he shakes his head.

Fiona raises an interested eyebrow, studying the interaction. Wanting to test a theory, she watches as he goes for the kitchen as well, passing the only - other - positive woman in his life. "Hey, Peaches," he greets with a small smile.

However, he receives a rushed head nod and nothing else. Both of Fiona's eyebrows raise as she bites her bottom lip. Oh, great, a pissed off Murphy and a possibly puppy-eyed Lip, the eldest Gallagher huffs to herself.

"Only ketchup," Steve reads off the order. Debbie raises her hand, "me!" He then reads off the next one, "extra onions, jalapenos." V opens the front door, taking it, "me."

She climbs over the couch, landing beside Fiona just as Carl makes his way to the couch. He tries to grab at her cookies only for her to pull it back, "uh-aht-aht, after you finish your shake and fries."

He sits back with a slight pout. Lecroy laughs, patting the back of his head softly before sitting him in her lap on the couch. "It's okay," she whispers, "I'll get you your cookies, bubba."

He now smiles, happily diving into his sandwich. V turns, catching sight of the unfamiliar blonde in her peripheral, "who's this?" Lip answers, coming back with napkins, "this is Karen."

"Hey, Karen. Nice top," V greets her, "what size are you?" Fiona cuts in, waving her hand, "shh! Shut up." As the narrator of the show begins to talk, Lecroy softly nudges V with her elbow.

The two meet eyes as the copper haired teen bounces her eyebrows before rolling her eyes. V's mouth drops, mouthing an understanding, "oh." In other words, Lecroy reminded the woman that Karen was the blonde neighborly pass around who not only is stealing her best friend, but is just an all round nuisance.

After watching maybe like... 2-3 minutes in? A bloody, pouting drunk Frank returns to the house, slamming the front door closed. Everyone turns, watching him with humor and wonder; mostly wondering who out of every Southside resident had the urge to punch rightfully punch him.

"You okay, Frank?" Steve asks, face scrunching with sympathy. Lecroy, on the other hand, snickers to herself. "Hey," Ian starts, eyes noticing something strange on his deadbeat father. He follows after the man from his seat. "That my shirt?"

At the question, the boy's father stops and turns in silence. On guard, Lecroy carefully sits Carl between herself and V in case she'd have to launch at the man. "Yeah," Frank nods, stepping towards Ian.

His son slowly steps back, shaking his head, "uh, I'm just asking." Frank nods, forcing his forehead down onto Ian's nose with enough force that the teen flies and lands on the table. Everyone jumps, screaming as Fiona begins asking Ian if he was okay.

"Guy in the bar said to pass it on," Frank explains. Immediately, Lecroy launches her small body at the man.

Sending a right hook at his trachea, the older man collapses to his knees as he fights for oxygen. Clasping onto his throat, wheezing, his eyes widen with delay as her denim clad knee jabs into his glabella. His body falls back without resistance, comparable to a ragdoll.

Steve and Fiona's eyes widen as they try to pull her away from him. Steve's arms wrap under her arms as he tries to lift her away. Fiona calls out, urgently, "wait, no, don't--" but it was too late. Lecroy's elbow forces down into the man's ribs eliciting a gasp, edging on a whimper, to escape.

"She's so strong," he winces, holding his sides. Keeping face, he turns to glare at the drunkard. "You don't do this to your kids, Frank," he grits his teeth. "What are you, a tough guy, Steve? You think you're a fucking tough guy?" Frank teases.

He steps forward, "because you look like a premenstrual Filipino." He points at a glaring Lecroy who stood beside a wincing Ian. "If anyone's tough, it's that baboon bitch--" Without hesitating, the girl picks up the tray of milkshakes and hurls it at the man.

"What the fuck, Frank?!" Lip belts in outrage, happily watching her mop the floor with him. "What the hell did he just call her?!" V shouts, pushing Carl to hide behind her back.

"You wanna come at me, Babygirl," he teases, "then let's go. Let's see how long you'd sit in Juvie this time." She forces him against the wall, gripping him by the collar. Repeatedly, she forces him against it until Steve forces her off without getting hit again.

Fiona hops in front of the girl, bending down in hopes keeping eye contact would calm her down. Fiona eyes water at the darken, manic eyes that seem to stare through her. "C'mon, Le," Fiona quietly pleads, "calm down. He's not worth it, okay? Not again."

She pulls her into her chest, hugging her tightly, "go upstairs and calm down, a'ight. It's okay, it's okay." Feeling her shoulders slacken, she slowly turns her to the steps, not allowing Frank to fall in her sight.

As the teen shuffles up the stairs, silent, like a zombie, Fiona turns to the others. Steve puffs his chest, ready to swing on Frank, but she quickly pushes him back and gets between the two. "Steve, go. Get out. Hey, just go!" She orders.

"Please," she pleads, she points at the door as Debbie softly shows him out with a skillet still in hand. "Come on," Franks yells, "don't go. Come on. Puss, puss, puss."

On the table with napkins trying to stop the bleeding, Ian chokes on some blood that slips down his throat. "Ice," V orders. Frank brushes his hair back, "it's a bloody nose. He's not dyin'."

"Shut the fuck up, Frank," V grits, her mind overworked and exhausted as it bounced from Ian being hit by his own father to the man egging on a 16-year-old with explosive anger.

He goes to walk away before turning to them, "anybody notice that I'm bleedin'?" Ian waves away everyone's hands, marching up the stairs, "I got it. Where's Croy?" Lip follows after him, the brothers now in search of the manic girl.

Lodged in the boys' bedroom, Lecroy sat on Ian's bed with a lit blunt hanging from between her lips. Instead of actively inhaling and exhaling the substance, she simply partook in allowing the smoke to swirl inside her body with every passive breath in and shooting out of her nostrils with every breath out.

Her onyx eyes take a pitch of black that gives her a soulless appearance in the nearly dark room. They stare at the floor with a blank glare, not a thought emerging behind those pretty eyes. Lip and Ian, hell anyone who's a part of the Gallagher's close circle, was no stranger to Lecroy's bursts of rage.

It was as if she was her own Hulk, but without the heroic music playing in the background. She could threaten to tear a building from the inside out and mean it, enjoying the pain that licked at her skin with every hit. To the Gallaghers' it was a part of who she was, who they knew Lecroy to be. In her family, however, this was an unspoken of reality for them; a curse, as her grandmother would put it.

Each Gallagher teen takes a seat on her sides. Lip gently pulls the blunt from her lips, inhaling some for himself as Ian changed shirts. "You should've hi'im' back," Lip opens the conversation.

Ian looks down at him, "if I ever do, I'll fucking kill him." The blip of anger seeps between his teeth as he forces the clean shirt over his head. He nods to the blanked out girl between them. "Besides, Le was ahead on that mission," he scoffs, humorlessly.

"So?" Lip shrugs, "eight to ten for manslaughter. Get laid as often as you want. Tattoos and everything. It's gay heaven, man." Rather than respond, Ian takes his seat beside Lecroy, blotting at the blood on his face.

He takes the offered blunt before passing it back. Feeling her bones come to a settle from the enraged shaking underneath her skin, the girl begins to slowly blink as she comes to reality. Noticing the loss of weed in her lungs, she grabs the blunt from Ian's fingers and places it between her lips.

Lip, who waited his turn in the session, softly smiles and lands a quick peck on the girl's temple. The three musketeers, as always, had won another battle against the world.

Rather than going home, she stayed over the Gallaghers and helped cook breakfast while Debbie set off to steal the neighbor's paper in search for coupons and Ian, with the help of V, steals milk and creamer from Conrad, the local delivery guy for all the corner stores. Basically, a regular Friday.

Plating up the food, it was a simple menu of sunny side eggs with toast and bacon. Setting a plate down for every Gallagher, she received the usual thanks -- one of them being a soft pat on the rear by Lip -- as Ian sat a half gallon of milk on the table.

"Don't forget V's coupons," Debbie states. The boy nods, walking back outside. In the meantime, Fiona comes down with Liam and grabs the mail. Lip helps her set him up in the high chair.

As she sorts through the mail, gratefully taking the cup of coffee Lecroy made for her, Ian comes back inside with V's coupons. He looks at his sister, "any pizza left from last night?"

Both Fiona and Lecroy glare over at him. "No pizza. Fruit or juice," Fiona answers. Lecroy then states, "besides I'm making a whole breakfast. We've got eggs, bacon, and toast. Take it." The two girls smile at his disgruntled yet satisfied look.

"OJ's in the top, grapes in the bottom drawer," she directs. Over at the table, Debbie reads off all the coupons they've received. "Poptarts, Frosted Flakes, Bisquick, Heinz Ketchup, and ooh-ooh! Even got a couple two-for-ones for Tide," the young auburn girl grins, waving the coupon beside her head.

Leaving the fridge, Ian looks over at her, "any coupons for meat?" She nods, "yeah. They got a special on ground chuck at Costco and Hot Pockets." Fiona chuckles, "great. We'll go tomorrow."

Lecroy sits between Liam and Lip, feeding the toddler some eggs and finely crumbled pieces of bacon. As his pouty lips fumble around the tips of the plastic fork, slowly swallowing the egg, Lip watches the two. He sets a sippy cup filled with milk in front of her. She sends him a small smile before giving it to Liam.

"Lip, you seen Frank?" Fiona asks, after reading the postal stamp on a yellow envelope. The teen pauses, swallowing, "uh, no." She hums, "what day is it?" He answers again with a sigh, "Friday. Why?"

Fiona skips up the stairs, searching for him without an answer. A firm knock rings from the back door, Ian sets down a plate in front of Carl before answering. Lecroy side-eyes the boy as he licks at the yolk, shooting a piece of bacon at his forehead.

He glances up at her, a small frown taking over his face, "eat your food, not disrupt the masses." From behind him, Steve walks through with donuts and cups from the local coffee shop. "Mornin' campers," he greets them.

"Whoa, what'chu got?" Lip asks.

"Jelly, plain, and glazed," he sets the stuff down, winking at Lecroy, "I even got you a couple bostons saved."

The girl smiles, "and to think, I was gon'a be mad that you interrupted a healthy breakfast. All's good now." The two laugh as he hands her the cup labeled: 'hot chai latte.'

He leans over, watching as Carl continues to lick at the yolk of his eggs as Lecroy was distracted. Quickly, he takes a piece of bread from his plate, quickly tapping it against the yolk as the boy side-eyes him.

"Bet you hate when that happens," he teases. Ian scoffs in disgust, "they're his tits. It's the only reason he eats eggs."

Lecroy shakes her head, "I've stopped the ranting and just started throwing things at him," she leans over, playfully glaring at the boy, "like a dog."

Debbie's face scrunches in disgust, "he just licked that one." Fiona comes down the stairs, slowing at the sight of Steve. She looks down, noticing the donuts and coffee.

"Oh, great," she sighs. "Le and I've been trying to get them to eat a healthy breakfast." Munching on a boston creme, Lecroy mindlessly waves the older woman off. "I already chewed him out about it, Fi," she pauses mid-chew and side eyes her, "the bostons are mine."

Steve smirks, gesturing to the table, "I bought all the essential morning food groups: caffeine, sugar, lard," he lands peck on her lips, leaning back with a content hum.

She pulls him to the side, "I'm sorry about last night." He shakes his head, "never apologize for your parents. Believe me, I don't. So you can let go of that." Flustered, she sends him a quick smile before looking at the group with a confused frown.

"Has anybody seen Dad?" She asks once again. Debbie answers, "he was asleep behind the armchair." Fiona sighs, marching for the chair with the others following with curiosity.

Leaning over the back of the chair, her face scrunches as she snatches at the polyester material. "It's a tent," she acknowledges, turning to the others, "why is there a tent in the living room?"

"Oh, uh, drying it out," Ian confesses, "ROTC training in Wisconsin next week." Debbie bends down, "I thought it was Dad. I left him a cup of coffee LeLe made this morning." She picks up the cup, "I thought I heard him say thanks."

Fiona leaves without a word, most likely going to V and Kev's for answers. Fiona returns with a final declaration, "I think Dad's missin'." Like clockwork, Lecroy and the Gallaghers start calling across the neighborhood in hopes anyone had seen the drunkard.

"Hey, Ted," Lip speaks into the phone, "yeah. Yeah. Since Michael Jackson died?"

Debbie sits on the landline, "hey, John, it's Debbie. Have you seen Frank since last night?"

Laying on the floor in the doorway of the living room and the kitchen, Lecroy is caught up in her own two conversations on two phones. One being with her mother:

"Yeah, has he been checked in at all since last night? This morning?" She pauses, "nah, ma, everything's fine... somewhat. The old bastard done went Houdini."

And the other being her boss, or dad:

"Baba, I know," she huffs as the man falls into a rant, "yeah, you wouldn't let him in the shop, regardless, I just need to know if you've seen? I don't care if you drove past his body on the sidewalk."

Fiona stations herself on the couch, "since last night, at the Alibi."

Ian sat on a phone as well, "sorry about the door. And the window. y-yeah, so, anyways, I was wondering; have you seen Frank?"

"Hello, has Frank been down at the department say last night or this morning?" V asks the receptionist at the Police station.

All of a sudden the landline from her house is snatched out of the window, the phone snatching from her hands. "Shit!" She yells, leaning out the window to see the phone being roped down the sidewalk.

"What the fuck? Motherfucker," She wonders to herself, rushing out of the Gallagher house. Still on the phone, but now sitting up, Lecroy laughs with a shake of her head. "That's some ghetto ass shit," her smile drops as muffled voices begin cussing her out on both phones.

Laying back down, she blurts out rushed apologies into both receivers, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! No, 'm not shoutin'a' ye'."

Soon after Kev had roped V back to the house, everyone's phone calls came to a stop. "Anything?" Fiona asks, looking at them. They all shake their heads.

Ian answers, "nobody's seen him since yesterday." Debbie whines, her freckled face falling. Fiona consoles her, "hey, hey, don't worry, Debs. We're gon'a find him, okay?"

Her small body falls into small tremors. From behind, Lecroy plants a gentle peck on her crown, softly rubbing her shoulders. Ian leans over, muttering words of comfort. Fiona looks at everyone, "we split up. All the regular spots, okay? Go."

Everyone splits up. Lip and Karen went together, much to the Murphy's chagrin as the outsider had no purpose to being there. Ian and Lecroy ventured off in her Jeep, pulling off with a screeching. They travel, searching every nook and cranny the piece of shit could possibly hide in.

Even going as far as whipping open port-a-potties until Ian accidentally showcased a shitting man. Quickly, all three scrambled to shut the door before the two redheads run off to their next spot. Rounding corners of junkyards and even the neighbors' backyards, they began dumpster searching for him.

It was a great idea until Lecroy lost her grip and did a front flip into one of the bin. She leaps out of the stank container with a cry, trembling in disgust as Ian laughs his ass, falling in the alleyway. Stealing a tarp and tucking it over the driver's seat. However, returning home didn't make things easier.

Pulling in front of V and Kev's place, they walk in, eyes lighting up at the sight of Fiona and Steve. Stepping deeper in the room, they falter at the sight of Veronica ironing a shirt while topless for the webcam. Ian smiles at the ridiculous scenery, "hey, V."

The woman's portrayal of some sort of sexy housewife doesn't falter as she greets him back, "hey, Ian."

Lecroy, on the other hand, couldn't snatch her eyes off of the woman's breast, blinking with a deadpan. "God, I love women," she mutters shamelessly.

"Um, sorry, Fiona," Ian changes the subject, "Debbie needs you. It's bad." Lecroy nods, jaw clenching as her focus falls back onto what brought there in the first place.

Back in the Gallagher house, a panicking Debbie sobs as she's surrounded by everyone. "Again, Debbie," Fiona speaks. The girl fumbles across her words, sounding as if she was singing hymns.

"Uh, Holly thought she saw a body under the tracks on Halsted," Ian explains. Fiona looks at him in shock, "what?" Steve denies the false tale, "it's not him, Debs, or the police would've contacted us by now."

Lecroy pats her head gently, "besides, it's Holly, honey. She's been in the third grade for four years." Fiona nearly growls, "I'm gonna deck that little bitch."

The Murphy girl shakes her head, "let me do it. I got a pre-buried hole in my backyard anyways." For a second, Steve pauses and glances at the teen with concern before looking back at Debbie.

"Does that even make sense, Debbie?" He asks, bending in front of her. "Why would your dad be in Halsted when he lives in the opposite direction?"

Lip steps in from behind, "well, depends. How was he lookin' when you, uh, left him at the Alibi Room last night, Steve?" He stands up, called out as Fiona follows. "When?" She asks.

"Uh," the man stammers, "ten? Ten thirty. Went to apologize, bought him a drink, then went home." He begins to light a cigarette, trying to appear collected under the lie.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Fiona asks. The front door opens as Kev walks in, "hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" The elder Gallagher steps toward him to the side.

"They found a body under the L," he says.

Once again, the family races off to the tracks, their hearts pounding against their chests in hopes that the body wasn't their father. Sliding to a stop at the circle of officers, Fiona speaks first.

"Do you know who that is?" She pants. "Stay back, okay? Stay back," the officer orders rather than answering her question.

They watch, silently as the coroner studies the body before flipping it over to reveal some homeless man who was very obviously not Frank. Veronica and the kids squeal with cheer while Lip and the others puff out a sigh of relief.

Wiping his hands down his face, the cyan eyed boy takes a hold of Lecroy's left hand, squeezing it into his chest. She looks at him, gifting a small smile, nodding. It's okay, she mouths to him. He simply returns with a smile, looking at the younger Gallaghers.

Off, behind them, Karen watches them with studious eyes, lifting an eyebrow at the slip of affection. Despite the continuous ride on the Thrilling Gallagher Adventures coaster thanks to Lip, she could care less about the boy's obvious yet simple need to involve her in his life. All she needed was a fuck buddy and he seemed to keep her entertain, much like the rest of her roster.

However, that doesn't mean she's willing to give him up and allow him to fall into the Murphy teen's arms. While Karen's... extra-curricular activities were a known fact, not much was known about Lecroy. Her mother's a nurse, takes care of the Gallaghers and is an advocate for DV, her father owns a small auto shop, her nana runs the neighborhood daycare center, and the teen was a certified hustler.

That was it. Not too detailed. Not too vague. A respectable, working class family. Karen could barf.

Oookay, so, this is probably the longest piece I've written yet and this is just 30 mins of episode 2. The rest will be added into Chapter 3, later on.

As we've slightly touched on Murphy's mental health - specifically -- disruptive behavior disorder, at some point we will take a dive into just exactly what she's inherited from her family and how it affects her daily life. So, I'm really excited to highlight that part of her character, even go as far as doing a little background chapter.

Don't be afraid to inbox me or simply heart, reblog, comment, and/or follow me for more content! Ask me any questions, my time is yours right here,

Much Love!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

#lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher imagines #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fanfic #shameless imagines #shameless fanfiction #shameless #lip gallagher x black!reader #Jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white x black!reader #jeremy allen white fanfic

[noonmutter]

Cy has questions for Leon! 34, 44, 53, and 70

What do you daydream about?

Leon rubbed thoughtfully at his cheek, then looked out the window at the veritable herd of bakar romping about in the back field. "Lately? ...'Bout kids, if I'm honest. Some... int'restin' stuff came up durin' th' Faire, an' it brought 'em t' mind all over again."

Have you ever been arrested, and if so what was it for?

He burst out laughing. "'Ave I ever been arrested? Cor, I'm a farmboy, mate. If y' ever ask a farmboy if they've ever been arrested an' they say no, they're a damn liar. Either about gettin' arrested or about bein' farm, but they're a liar fer certain. ... Anyway last time I got arrested was fer drunken carousin' in th' Dreamgrove tha' expanded out int' Bradensbrook, right after we took out Xavius. It was a night fer celebratin'! ...it mighta turned int' a panty raid once we got drunk enough. Celestine o' th' 'arvest was not amused when she posted our bail."

What would you do if you could live a day without consequences?

"Truthf'ly, I'm not sure I'd be able t' trust tha' enough t' do anythin' wild enough t' be int'restin'. Th' next day's bound t 'ave consequences fer wot 'appened, yeah? But if it were real an' it was just a day in a vacuum as it were... hm." He thumbed at his beard. "Try an' bargain with somethin' fer immortality, maybe. No consequences, hey?"

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

"A rancher, like m' dad." Leon patted his own shoulder with a soft smile. "I din't quite get th' bigass-rectangle build 'e 'ad, an' th' older I got, th' less I wanted t' do with th' animal an' th' more I wanted t' make stuff outta th' animal. Which...sounds kinda terrible, puttin' it tha' way, but I just mean workin' with leather an' turnin' it int' somethin' useful or pretty was more int'restin' than tendin' a few dozen 'ead o' cattle.

"I liked th' idea o' makin' thin's a lot more than I did takin' care o' thin's. Heh. An' 'ere I am, doin' an awful lot o' both."

#prompty things #leon

[indigothemuse]

Lemongrass Tea and Other Small Things

hi!! here's my KOTLC secret santa!! for @novaliae!! thank you so much to @song-tam for hosting this event!! it was super fun and i hope everyone else had a good time!

you can read it here on my ao3!

oh my god, and, of course, thank you so so much to @wonder-womans-ex for being a FANTASTIC beta, and the reason why it's coherent (im so sorry i forgot to mention you the first time around)

Being part of the group to create the Black Swan felt natural. Tiergan had never felt as though he turned his back on the rest of the elves. Weren’t they trying to create a better world for themselves? He sighed. He’d never imagined that this would be the outcome. Prentice had been lost for so long, so to only now get him back…

But only to get him back, memories almost lost. And…Cyrah. Tiergan had loved Cyrah, and her death had almost broken him completely after Prentice called Swan Song and his mind breaking.

Prentice was slowly coming back. It was a process, he had to remind himself. Losing your mind and then regaining it was practically unheard of. (Never mind Alden.) And Sophie…he felt grief for her. She had lost her childhood, turned into a soldier by not only circumstance, but by them. By him.

“I can hear you brooding. You can’t solve anything by being miserable.” Prentice leaned against the railing beside him, holding out a mug of tea. At Tiergan’s look, he smiled softly. “Lemongrass. You used to drink it when your anxiety got worse.”

Tiergan’s mouth felt dry. He hadn’t drunk lemongrass tea (or mint—Prentice’s preference) since the mind break. It tasted like home. By his smile, Prentice knew it.

“Thank you, even if you’re going to act insufferable about it.”

“Me? Insufferable? Never!”

“Mhm.”

Tiergan broke first, laughing into his cup. Prentice grinned. He took another sip of tea. It tasted, well…like lemon. But it reminded him of home, of sitting in Cyrah and Prentice’s home, of playing with a young Wylie. Prentice smiled at him, and the two stood in silence.

The silence breaks, just a few minutes later as Wylie, Linh, and Tam come home. They look happy, and Tiergan greets them warmly. He’s glad that they’re happy.

Linh is beaming, teasing Tam about something. His son The boy is blushing furiously, much to her delight. There’s water droplets hovering around her, a sure sign of her joy.

Wylie has such a fond look on his face, and Tiergan wishes, oh so desperately, that he could preserve this moment, forever. Prentice is laughing at something Tam said, face transformed by joy. He’s so alive.

He takes a sip of his tea, relaxing into the comfort it gives. And he watches, surrounded by his family.

Tiergan is going into his final year of regular Foxfire, before the elite levels, surrounded by his family. Prentice is draped across his lap, feet in Cyrah’s. Livvy is there too, all on the floor of Cyrah’s room.

They’re dressed in finery, preparing for her Winnowing Gala. Her hair is pulled back in an elaborate updo, gold threaded through the red strands. She’s beautiful, he thinks, and reaches across to squeeze her hand. She gifts him with a bright smile, eyes twinkling.

“Cy, hold still. You’re going to make me mess up!” Livvy has a makeup brush clutched in her hand, dipped in fine gold powder.

“Liv, it doesn’t matter—”

“It matters to me, hold on.” Tongue poking out, she dusts the gold across her eyelids.

Prentice sighs, leaning back against him. “I think I could just fall asleep like this.”

“Do it.”

A soft laugh. “I need to finish getting ready too.”

“Mm. You look fine.” He punctuates this with a soft kiss to his cheek. He smiles, clearly pleased.

“You smell like lemongrass. Did you get perfume?”

“Mhm. Kesler.”

“Nice. Maybe I should ask him for some.”

“What? For your boring tea?”

Prentice twists, a look of pretend outrage. “Hey! Excuse you, I have great taste!”

Tiergan can’t help the fond smile. “Sure, love.”

He scrunches his nose. Cyrah, done, moves closer, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

“Gross,” Livvy calls, clearly unbothered.

“The polycule is open for you! As we’ve said many times!”

“I’m good. Now, finish getting ready so we can go wow everyone with our hot gayness.”

Tiergan snorts and lets Prentice pull him to his feet. “Okay, I’m thinking of eyeliner.”

“Are we trying to give Cy’s parents a heart attack?”

“Mhm! It’ll be fun, baby!”

“I agree. Can you imagine Mom’s look?” She presses a kiss to his cheek.

He rolls his eyes, but leans against her for a moment.

“Right!” Livvy claps her hands a few minutes later, resplendent in a bright red dress, gold beads in her hair. “We ready?”

“Yep!” Prentice has a gold bracelet on, matching Tiergan and Cyrah. The three of them look like a set, and makes something inside him warm. They’re both beautiful, each positively striking in their splendor. (He could look at them forever, and never grow bored.)

Tiergan and Prentice take one of her arms, and together they walk down the stairs into a dazzling ballroom. It’s filled with young men, all vying for her attention. She graces them with one last smile, before sweeping into the crowd. Tiergan dances with Livvy, and then Soheila, Cyrah’s younger sister. They talk amicably, before the song ends, and he’s left alone.

He spends two dances leaning against the wall, watching his friends. Cyrah is a sight to see on the dance floor, her blue dress easily more magnificent than anyone else's. It makes sense, seeing as she’s the star of the night. Still, she’s beautiful in her element, a specter of powder blue and gold and shining red. I love you, he will say that night, later, when all three of them are in comfortable clothes and her makeup is gone and her hair is down, and he will find her just as beautiful.

Prentice too, is alluring. He’s in dark blue pajamas, lounging back on her bed, eyes closed. Maybe he is foolish, he thinks, but he kisses his forehead anyway, pulling a blanket over him. I love you, he has whispered over and over, and it’s never felt as true as it does right now.

He hasn’t said I love you since Cyrah died. It’s as though his heart has closed off, unwilling to let anyone near. But this is Prentice, he reminds himself, as they sit on the couch. His feet are back in Tiergan’s lap, as they so often were Before. His hands are holding a book, balancing it upon his legs. Prentice is drinking a cup of tea, eyes almost shut. He laughs a little at that. Some things don’t change. He had always been an early sleeper, the first to fall asleep anywhere. He keeps reading, only reaching over to take the cup away to place on the low table.

“I love you,” Tiergan breathes, oh-so-quietly, hoping Prentice hears but also wishing desperately that he doesn’t.

He wakes up the next morning underneath a blanket and resting against him. He’s warm. It’s like being a student all over again—falling asleep on sofas together, waking up late for class.

He’s not quite sure what woke him up until he hears the kids frantically whispering.

“I said to be quiet! Not to bump into anything!”

“I didn’t do it intentionally!” Linh whispers back to him, and he can practically see the twins locked in their quiet debate.

Wylie laughs quietly. “I’m sure they’re still asleep. Dad can sleep through anything, and I’m pretty sure Tiergan can too. Trust me, we could set off alarms and they’d sleep through the night.”

He’s not…wrong, exactly. Cyrah had been the early riser of the three, and she would wake them up in the morning. Tiergan would be content to sleep through the day, but he has to teach.

Oh no. He has to teach; he has a job. But he’s warm…hm. Would Leto care if he called in sick? Wait, no, he has a meeting with Sophie. Hmm.

He waits for a few minutes until the kids leave, and carefully moves off of Prentice, fixing the blanket. Tiergan can’t resist, and presses a light kiss to his forehead. “Sleep well, love.” I love you. He goes to get ready for the day, leaving a short while later, brushing his hair back into a bun.

With a quick, “Foxfire!” he arrives on the campus, giving a quick greeting to some of the prodigies. At least he gets to skip orientation. In his office, he sits down, pulling out a folder.

He has to prepare for his first prodigy—a level 4 student named Sage Keyston. They’re working on better mental concentration, especially when it comes to transmitting.

It’s a good lesson, and Sage makes a lot of progress.

“Good job today, Sage. I’d recommend practicing with someone else too. If you’d like, I can send you a list.”

“Sure! That sounds awesome! Thanks, Tiergan!” Sage gives a cheerful wave and flounces out, going to their next class.

He only has a few moments before Sophie’s coming inside, giving him a nervous smile. Her hair’s been braided with small flowers, possibly courtesy of Biana. “Hey, Tiergan.”

“Sophie. Do you need something?” She’s not scheduled to come in until later, close to the end of the day.

“I had a question. It’s, uh, a little personal though.”

“Okay…why don’t you sit down? I have some tea, if you’d like it.” She’s trembling slightly, he notes as she sits down.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Sophie is devoutly staring at her hands, and he turns to give her some privacy. He doesn’t have lemongrass here, but he does have rose tea. While he makes them each a cup, she starts talking. “I… being queer isn’t really accepted here, is it?”

Tiergan flinches, almost splashing himself. “Er, not really. Most younger elves are more accepting, but you know how traditional older elves can be.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask what brought this on?” He hands her the cup, and she hugs it to herself.

“It’s uh. I think I like Biana.”

“Ah. Any reason why you came to me?”

She peers at him from underneath her bangs. “You’re the only adult who wouldn’t be weird about this, or strange for me to talk to, especially without anyone listening.”

He nods, taking a seat. “I see. Well, I’m happy to help, if I can. As I said, most of the older elves aren’t quite as approving since it’s a “bad match”. However, I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me. Hell, I don’t think it even could.” He gives a soft smile, glancing at the photograph on his desk. It’s from when they graduated—the three of them, all smiling and pleased. Sophie is still clutching at the cup desperately, and he aches. He knows.

“I just…I know it’s natural, and normal, and perfectly fine. But that was back in the Forbidden Cities, with humans. And here…everything is so focused on getting a good match that even the idea of a bad match…”

“It was hard. But, Sophie, it gets better. Trust me on this one. It might hurt, and it might be difficult, but it’s worth it.”

And really, it is, isn’t it? He’s…he’s happy now. She smiles tentatively at him, and drinks some of the tea.

“Thanks, Tiergan. I think I’m gonna go to my next class. Can you write me a note?” “Of course, Sophie. Good luck.” He writes out a quick tardy pass and hands it to her. She grins, and leaves.

And there he is. Back in his office, on his own. He drains his tea, and glances down at his imparter.

Prentice: Tiergan, how important was the red vase to you?

Tiergan: What did you do.

Prentice: Absolutely nothing, I’m a perfect angel and you know it

Tiergan: Mhmm, sure. And to answer your question: No, I don’t care about the red vase. Please sweep up the glass so no one gets hurt.

Prentice: Sure thing! Have fun at work, love

His face warms, and he taps out a quick reply. I love you. He doesn’t send that, but the thought lingers throughout the day.

He goes home, bearing a message from the kids. Prentice is waiting for him on the sofa, reaching out to pull him into a hug.

“Good evening. How was work?”

“Not too bad. Sage made a lot of progress.”

“That’s excellent! I’m glad they’re improving.”

“Mhm. Also, the kids said they were going to go to Havenfield.”

“Sounds fun.” Tiergan adjusts to sit sideways on his lap, leaning his head against his shoulder. “Hi.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing important, love. Do you want me to read outloud?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This time, it doesn’t have to just be in his thoughts. This time, he says it, soft as it may have been.

And so, the night draws to a close: the two tucked away in their own little world, reading. And he’s happy.

I love you.

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And that's that! thank you so much for reading, and i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

#kotlc secret santa 2022 #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc #tiertice #kotlc tiergan #prentice endal #cyrah endal #wylie endal #tam song #linh song #fluff #some angst #domestic fluff #canon compliant (mostly) #ignore the fact that i forgot to link ao3. its fine