Discover Top Posts Tagged with #drunk boys

*Kdj and Yjh are both drunk*

Cale: I’ve always knew the squid was a light weight, but I didn’t know it was the same for the sunfish bastard too…

Yujin: To be far… The sunfish did drink 4 whole bottles of alcohol.

Cale: *nods* True

Kim Dokja: *holding Yjh tight while crying* NO WAIT YOO JOONGHYUK PLEASE DON'T REGRESS (Hic) I WORKED SO HARD FOR THIS SO PLEASE!!

C & Y: … ‘Should we stop him?’

Yjh: ‘This fool looks ugly when crying…’

C & Y: *sees Yjh slowly leaning in to kiss kdj* ‘Wait…-’

Yujin: ‘-is he about to’

Cale: ‘-What is he doing? Is he actually going to…’

*Yjh suddenly kisses kdj and kdj makes a shocked Pikachu eye look*

C & Y: ….(ㅇ-ㅇ)

Yujin: Hey Cale, do you have-

Cale: Of course I do, and you? *takes phone out*

Yujin: Mhm… *Also takes phone out*

C & Y: *Silently takes pictures for blackmail(?)*

Based off of this pic

#tcf #cale #trash of the count's family #holy trinity #cale henituse #lcf #kim rok soo #krs #orv #meme #kim dokja #han yoojin #Han Yujin #sunfish bastard #drunk boys

11, please!

11: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?

Baz

I believe Simon is now on a first-name basis with every denizen of this pub.

I’m also fairly certain every one of them has offered to buy him a drink. I’m absolutely positive he has taken far too many of them up on that offer.

Endless grin, disheveled hair, flushed face. Simon Snow is completely sozzled.

“Baz!”

“Yes, Snow?”

“Baz!”

“I’m right here, Snow.”

Snow wobbles onto the barstool next to me and sets his most recent refill of ale on the table so heavily that some of it sloshes out of the glass and onto the tabletop. He blinks at it regretfully, takes a long pull of the remaining ale and then turns to regard me again.

“Baz!”

Crowley, here we go again.

“Baz, Liverpool won!”

“Yes, Snow. So you’ve mentioned.”

He frowns and leans towards to me, gently swaying. “You called me Simon before.” He leans even closer to me, his scrunched nose almost touching mine.

Snow’s understanding of personal space is precarious even when he’s sober. It’s basically nonexistent when he’s drunk. I don’t mind that one bit. He’s now draped over me, chin resting on my shoulder, lips brushing my ear.

He raises his voice even louder than before. “Baz!”

Snow also loses all sense of volume control when he drinks. He’s literally a breath away from me but still feels the need to bellow.

“Baz!”

“Yes, Simon.”

“They’re all Liverpool fans. Every one of them.” He leans back to wave his glass genially at the other tables, managing to spill more of his drink as he does so.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. Less in the glass means less in Simon. He’s going to have a dreadful hangover tomorrow if I don’t cut him off soon.

He’s still chattering. Snow becomes far more talkative when he’s drinking, his words flowing freely, if somewhat repetitively.

“Baz!”

My point exactly.

“Baz, how’d you find this place? How’d you find a pub full of Liverpool fans, a pub showing the game, in fucking Chicago? I didn’t even know there’d be Liverpool fans here.”

Snow goes on about this remarkable example of globalization for quite some time.

We’ve been in town for a few days, visiting Bunce and her boyfriend. They had some family affair today, so Simon and I had some time to ourselves.

I had considered spending that time in the warm, luxurious privacy of our hotel room but Simon was up with the sun, as usual, and ready to explore more. As if Bunce hadn’t dragged us all over this freezing, windblown city already.

The wind here is ghastly. It almost made me regret not buying that ridiculous puffy coat Simon insisted I needed for this trip. Almost.

I couldn’t face walking along that frigid lakeshore today. It’s snowing. In April. It’s appalling. I truly don’t know how Bunce tolerates it.

I had done some investigating ahead of time. I know how Simon is about Liverpool this late in the season.

Simon would call it plotting but I prefer to call it research. It was easy enough to discover which pub was a favorite among expat Liverpool fans. This one opened at seven this morning to televise the match live. We’ve been here since before nine.

It’s not even noon and Simon is completely inebriated. He’s still talking but I’ve lost the gist of this very one-sided conversation. He’s crossed his arms on the table, one elbow in the puddle of beer he spilled earlier, and his head is resting on his arms. Eyes half-closed, face still flushed, errant curls spilling onto his forehead.

He takes my breath away.

I push the curls off his face, my fingers lingering to stroke through his hair. Simon closes his eyes and smiles.

“Baz.” Thank magic, he’s at the point of mumbling now rather than shouting.

“Yes, Simon.”

“Like it when you do that.”

“When I do what, love?”

“Mess with my hair.”

I keep my fingers running through his curls. I never want to stop.

“Baz.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. This was ace.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

Simon’s eyes stay closed.

I pull my phone from my pocket and tap on the app for a car service to take us back to the hotel. Simon’s in no state to navigate public transportation and it’s too fucking cold for me to even consider it.

Looks like we’ll be getting that afternoon in the hotel room after all. Maybe Simon will have slept it off by the time we meet Bunce and Micah for dinner.

I run my fingers through his hair one more time.

“Come on, love. Time to go.”

Simon blinks up at me and sways as he gets to his feet. I reach for his hand but he just leans into me instead, arms wrapping around my waist. I slide an arm around him to steady him.

He’s asleep on my shoulder by the time the car pulls away from the curb.

Simon

I’ve wiped down the kitchen counters. Washed all the dishes that were piled up in the sink. Folded and put away my clean laundry. I suppose I could sweep too but I don’t feel like it.

It might seem like I’m making a go of cleaning the flat but I’m moping. Actively moping.

Penny huffs at me from the sofa. “Just text him, Simon.”

“He said he wanted to be alone today. I’m respecting that, Penny.”

She rolls her eyes at me and goes back to her book.

I’ve wanted to text Baz since I woke up.

It’s August 12th.

Before this year I hadn’t really understood the significance of this date for Baz. I mean, I knew his mum had been killed and all, but I didn’t know the date or the details of it all.

Or who had orchestrated it.

Baz was home with his family every previous August and I was always languishing in some miserable care home, desperately waiting to be released to go to Watford. We were never in the same place.

But this year we’re both in London. He didn’t go home for it—he’d have been alone if he had anyway—the Grimms are visiting Daphne’s parents in the south of France for a few weeks. Baz was invited to accompany them—I was too—but he hadn’t wanted to be with Daphne’s family for this.

Understandably.

I’m not sure what I was expecting for today. I guess I wasn’t expecting he wouldn’t want to be with me either.

But I can understand that. It’s the first anniversary of her death where he actually knows what happened, knows she was murdered.

And knows who gave the order to do it.

Which is probably why he doesn’t want me around. I may not be the Mage’s Heir anymore but he was still my mentor for all those years. (actually, it seems I am the Mage’s heir, according to his lawyers) (They’re still trying to sort that out) (I’m not sure what it all means.)

Baz doesn’t sleep over at my place every night. With Fiona gone we’ve actually been spending some nights at his place. He’s got a nicer television.

Fiona’s an absolute terror when she’s home. She bangs on the bedroom wall and yells even if we’re just watching a movie in bed. Thinks she’s funny, she does. Makes me practically jump out of my skin, even when I’m not snogging Baz. That’s why we avoid his place most of the time. He’s been sleeping over here more often than not, now in the summer, since we don’t have classes.

But he didn’t sleep over last night.

He wanted to stay at home today, be on his own, is what he’d said. I thought he’d stay over and leave this morning but he’d gotten quiet when I mentioned it last night.

“You don’t have to stay,” I’d said. I didn’t want to press him on it. “It’s alright it you don’t want to.”

Baz had frowned at me. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Simon. I’d just rather be on my own tomorrow and I’ll likely not be good company. I should just go tonight, so I’m not a frightful grump at you in the morning.”

“You’re always a grump in the morning.” That had gotten him to indignantly deny it, but with a hint of a smile on his face. Baz did end up leaving soon after. Said he’d text me when he was ready to talk. I’d promised myself not to pester him.

It wasn’t even half-past ten and I already wanted to pester him.

Penny finally groans and tosses her book aside about an hour later. “Simon, I can’t take one more minute of you brooding. It’s one day. Surely you can survive one day without seeing Baz?”

I shrug.

I get a huff and an eye-roll this time. “Come on. Let’s go. We’re going out.” Penny shoves my shoulder and I shuffle out the door after her.

Penny knows me so well. She takes me to Borough Market, which is at least some distraction. Until I’m done eating, that is.

“Will you stop checking your phone? It will vibrate if he texts you, Simon. You know this.” Penny bats my hand and I shove my phone in my pocket before I drop it.

We wander down to Southwark Cathedral and then end up near the Bridge.

“He just wants some time alone today, Simon. It makes sense.” Penny pushes her glasses up and frowns at me. “I’m sure he’ll call or text you later tonight.”

“I know. I just hate the thought of him being alone. It’s the first year he knows what really happened… who really planned it …”

She doesn’t let me finish. “Simon. You can’t take on the guilt for that. The Mage made his own decisions and is the only one responsible for his actions.” Her finger pokes my chest. “It’s nothing to do with you.”

We’re almost to the station when I feel my phone vibrate. I yank it out of my pocket eagerly.

It isn’t Baz.

It’s Fiona, of all people.

FIONA: Are you with Baz?

ME: No. Why?

FIONA: Where the fuck is he?

ME: At his place. Why are you texting me?

FIONA: Why the fuck aren’t you with him? Don’t you know what today is?

ME: He said he wanted to be alone.

FIONA: AND YOU JUST LET HIM BE ALONE? Merlin and Morgana, Snow, I can’t believe I actually gave you credit for not being as thick as you look.

ME: Why are you texting me?

FIONA: Because Baz isn’t answering my calls or texts, you fucking nightmare. I thought for sure you’d be with him, so I thought I’d text you to tell him to FUCKING ANSWER ME.

ME: Oh.

FIONA: How’d he get you to shove off for the day? Aren’t you usually glued to his hip?

I frown at my phone. Fiona is an acquired taste. I haven’t quite acquired it yet. Baz says most people don’t ever manage to.

ME: He asked me to.

FIONA: Jesus Christ, Snow, you are an absolute pillock.

Fiona likes to swear like a normal. More so when she’s really pissed off.

FIONA: Do you have a key to his place?

I do actually but I’m not sure I want to tell her that. It’s her place too.

FIONA: Don’t you fucking stop answering, Snow. Are you going to answer my question? DO YOU HAVE A BLOODY KEY OR NOT?

ME: Yes.

FIONA: Yes, you have a key? This isn’t fucking twenty questions, Snow.

ME: Yes, I have a key.

FIONA: Get your arse over there and see what’s going on. I’ve been texting and calling him for the last hour and he’s not answering, the bloody wanker. And for the love of Merlin have him text me when you get over there.

ME: All right. I’ll head over there now.

FIONA: If one of you doesn’t text me in the next hour, Snow, I will literally set you on fire when I see you next.

ME: Ok, ok.

Lucky for me I’ve got my key fob in my pocket. “Penny, I’ve got to go to Baz’s.”

“Was that him then?” Penny looks puzzled. “You usually get this soft, sappy look when you text Baz. You looked more like you were going to throw up this time.”

“No, it was Fiona. She’s been texting him but he’s not answering. She’s blustering but I can tell she’s worried. I need to get over there.”

“Shall I come with you?”

“No, better not. Not sure what kind of mood he’ll be in when I get there. Better if I go alone. I’ll text if I need anything.”

“All right, Simon. Text me if you need backup.”

Baz is in a mood alright. A drunk mood. I’ve only seen him that way one other time. Fifth year in the Catacombs.

I’d burst into the flat, not sure what I would find.

What I found was Baz, bottle in hand, leaning against the living room sofa. His hair is tangled, falling into his face. He looks even paler than usual. The wanker must not have fed last night. No wonder he’s completely pissed.

Baz is a lightweight under normal circumstances—even one glass of red wine gets him completely legless if he hasn’t fed. I can’t imagine what this bottle of single malt has reduced him to.

Well I can. He’s a morose, incoherent mess. I’ve never heard him slur his words like this, not even back in fifth year.

“Baz. It’s me, Baz. Look at me. There you go.” I pull his face up and sweep his hair back. His pupils are huge, his grey eyes flat and lifeless.

“Shnow.” My name is garbled, Baz’s lips barely moving. The bottle in his hand waves erratically.

“Baz, give me the bottle now, alright?” I have to pry his fingers off the neck, managing to spill a little as I wrestle it away from him. At least it’s not empty. I’ve no idea how full it was when he started but there’s less than a third left now. I move to put it on the table across the room.

Baz makes a reaching motion when I move away. I’m back at his side immediately. I put my hands on his shoulders and lean close. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, ok? Don’t move, just stay here ‘til I get back, yeah?”

I fill a glass with water from the tap. I can feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. Fuck. It’s probably Fiona again. She can wait a minute.

I drop down on the floor next to Baz and he leans into me heavily. “Here you go, let’s have a little bit of water now.” I hold the glass to his lips and manage to get Baz to take a few sips.

I’m thoroughly regretting not letting Penny come with me. She’d be able to hit him with a spell or two to bring him round. I’m no help to him at all.

I coax the water in him, little by little. He slumps against me, head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm around him. “I’ve got you, love.”

His head unexpectedly comes up at my words and bangs into my chin. He shakes his head and I rub my chin. That stung.

“You’ve never called me that.” His voice is clearer. His focus is off but there’s an intensity to his gaze that wasn’t there a few moments ago. “You’ve never called me ‘love’ before.”

He’s right. I haven’t. That’s what he calls me. I adore it when he does. It makes me feel cherished and special and his.

I’m not as comfortable with endearments. Afraid I’ll sound like a right plonker, I guess. They just don’t come naturally to me, usually. But it did this time, just slipped right out. Didn’t even notice I’d said it.

I lean in and kiss Baz’s forehead. He smells like a distillery. I smooth his hair back and trace his cheekbone with my thumb. “Well there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there, love?”

Baz smiles and closes his eyes, his head dropping back on my shoulder. “I like it,” he mumbles. “Like it when you say that, Simon.”

“You should have called me, Baz. I hate the thought that you were sitting here all alone. I would have come.”

My phone is buzzing again and I continue to ignore it. Fiona is going to light me on fire but I don’t care. He’s ok and that’s all that matters. I’ll get to her later.

“Didn’t want to get all maudlin on you.”

“You know that wouldn’t matter to me.”

I can feel Baz’s breath on my neck. He’s tilted his head back, half on my shoulder and half resting against the sofa cushions. I tighten my arm around him. “You can be any way you want around me, Baz.”

“She’s not coming back.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s stark and true but not something he hasn’t known for awhile now. So I don’t say anything.

“She came through the Veil to find me. She couldn’t find me, Simon. She couldn’t find me because I wasn’t there. She came through for me—she didn’t go looking for my father or Fiona. Me. And I wasn’t there.”

I feel a chill wash over me that’s almost as frigid as it was the night Natasha Pitch appeared in our room. Of course he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there because the fucking Mage had him kidnapped.

All she found was me. The Mage’s Heir. Wasn’t that fucked up, when you stop to think about it?

“She’s not coming back, Simon.” I still don’t know what to say to him.

“She’s got no reason to, now. We figured it out. She’s been avenged. There’s no reason to come back next time.”

Oh shit. Fuck.I hadn’t thought of that. No wonder he’s a fucking mess. He probably hadn’t thought about that either.

We solved her murder. We avenged her death. She’s got no reason to linger anymore, no reason to come back through the Veil next time.

Fuck.

I’ve had some seriously conflicted emotions about the Mage, this past year. Part of me hates him for leaving me in the homes all those times, for lying to me about being the Chosen One, despises him for using me and manipulating me like that. For almost bringing the magickal world to the brink of war. For letting think I had to fight Baz to end it.

Part of me is grateful he found me and brought me to Watford, to the World of Mages. Without the Mage I wouldn’t have Penny, or Baz or Agatha, or any of the things that made my life better the last eight years.

My therapist says it’s normal to feel conflicted.

But I’m not conflicted now. I can be grateful that he found me and brought me to Watford and I can wholeheartedly hate him forever for what he’s done to Baz. And I do. I hate him for murdering Baz’s mum, hate him for causing Baz to be turned. I can’t forgive him for any of that.

But it truly enrages me that he took Baz’s one chance to see his mother again away from him. Because that’s what it was—his one chance. Natasha Pitch has no reason to come back next time the Veil lifts. And my heart breaks for Baz right now.

He’s realized that too.

I get him another glass of water and eventually manage to shuffle him down the hall and into bed. I tuck him under the duvet and watch him fall asleep.

I finally extract my phone and see the torrent of enraged texts from Fiona.

I tap out a response to her and then text Penny that I’ll be spending the night here. And then I turn my phone off and watch Baz until I fall asleep.

#carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #follower asks #otp questions #drunk boys