#(drinking buddies)

[bigimango]

They never learn

And a close up of the two gremlins

[philosophers-shwag]

Posting the drawings by themselves cause I like them

[Original post]

[bewbberrytarts]

Then and Now

[wallflowers-in-the-wind]

Tamlin: *after a long day at the Spring court chilling at the tavern*

Nesta: *kicks open the door at takes a seat next to Tamlin*

Tamlin: Feyre?

Nesta: Feyre

[that1notetaker]

It only ocurred Lucifer to ask Blitz like at their fifth time meeting for drinks. In the end it didnt matter, not really.

[becabeale143]

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

Day 9: Intoxicated

I was going to go angst, but I’ve come to really love these cracktastic idiots over the last year, especially through fic.

Prompt List by Jamiedraws__ on Instagram

[thirstysudeikis]

Jason Sudeikis being the only good thing in Drinking Buddies .

[soft-persephone]

The Distance Between Our Galaxies

Jake Lockley (Moon Knight system) x Ballerina!Fem!Reader x Luke (Jake Johnson)

T // WC: 1.45k // warnings: descriptions of flesh being ripped // series masterlist //main masterlist

Jake woke up and immediately stilled his body.

A woman, soft and sweet was pressed up against him.

Fuck, Marc.

Jake woke up to the smell of your hair. It washed over his senses, filling him with a distant memory, transporting him to a hazy dream when he was younger. A boy, barely a teenager in the back of Marc’s mind.

You reminded him of that girl he fell in love with when he was younger, much younger.. He never got the chance to touch her. To talk to her or be with her in any capacity, not sure how to reach out and make his presence known.

Taking his chance, he indulged in a deep sniff. Letting his head rest on yours. For just a moment, lingering.

Your hand was strewn across his waist. Your legs were tangled in his. A distinct taste lingered on his tongue.

You.

He was a kid again. He couldn't quite remember what age, but it was young. However, old enough for his first kiss. Their first kiss.

Marc always seems to get them first.

Mirabel’s rich skin, the specific hues of her undertone was something magical, her full lips, and pretty white smile. Jake remembered the hazy moments he was present in the body, quiet as whispers.

Little Bel was a ray of sunshine in their youth. A getaway from the wretched plight that was home, but when they– mainly Marc was with her. It was the first time he didn't have to worry.

He didn't have to take over.

It was a blessing, but also his curse.

The entire experience reminded him of his own personal mortality. His living purgatory of being alive, but being unknown. A deep aching curse to want the things he could never have. He was a fleeting memory in the lives of a few, real for only one moment in time.

He was real once. Scattered in accros time in a world he used to know, but he’s been away so long. His friends might not even remember him. He had no one in London. He didn’t know anything or give a fuck about Europe.

There was no one to recognize him or remember he was ever there.

So all he had were the memories.

In his own universal plane of existence. A fleeting whisper in the wind. He knew he was real, but it would be nice to have his own life back. To make his own world known.

Every moment he was present in the body was a tribute to his own existence, his mustache, his own personal style, his walk, the way he talked. It was the time when body was his and only his. So he interacted with the world around him, outside of Marc’s reserved abrasiveness, and despite Steven’s best efforts to be sociable, it rubbed people the wrong way. He was nice, but they had a habit of not sticking around.

Most likely Marc’s fault.

So he had to hold on and cherish every moment. Every experience, thought, word, touch, feeling, every-everything. Because they were his.

So he cherished his time with you because when else was he going to get another chance.

He gingerly placed a finger on your full lips, slowly tracing them, relishing in the warmth of your breath, tickling the pad of his fingertips.

They were so soft.

His chest ached. His palms suddenly felt sweaty.

He suddenly rmemebrs how Mirabel’s eager plush lips and equally as eager tongue, swiped over theirs with a heated fervor they didn’t quite know was possible. Neither of them good at it, but it was one of Jake’s most precious memories. Her lips crashing awkwardly but passionately along Marc’s, unaware that you were kissing him too.Marc unaware of the boy inside that took his most brutal beatings.

There was no explanation for how Marc’s hand tightened on her side. There was no explanation for how he desperately needed to touch her hair. How he had to kiss her more firmly. How his tongue becomes less aggressive, just cherishing the moment. It must just be how much he liked her was all he thought. The conclusion he came to.

But no, it was him, Jake.

He somehow got control, for just a brief moment, to make his first kiss his, just as much as it was Marc’s.

Marc didn’t deserve most of the women that came into their lives.

He always managed to push them away, but the good one’s stuck around.

As much as Jake wanted to take over and show you a true man. A gentleman even, he couldn’t intervene.

Not like this.

You needed someone to meet you where you were at. To help you process your grief healthily.

The memory rushed over him. Blending with the present.

With one final brush of his thumb on your cheek. He sighed before returning to the unknown.

He didn’t have to think.

He was out of your bed without waking you up. He whisked the battered bloody clothes out of your hamper into a trash bag that took him more than a long time to find.

Jake hated large houses that needed maids. Everything was too far and hard to find.

Any evidence of Marc’s presence he scrubbed away.

“Spector had the body too long. There is buis—��

Yeah yeah, Jake replied back in his mind, shoving Khonshu away. You don’t have to tell me twice.

And he didn’t.

Khonshu was annoying.

Being Moon Knight just passed the time. When it was worth it and the work was honest, it could be a purpose.

He missed New York. He missed his cab, Crawley and Gina, her boys. God, those two knuckleheads.

It didn’t take long until he was out the front door of the house

Depsite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake it.

He couldn’t shake you.

But the thoughts started flowing, his mind racing, landing back onto you.

He was thinking about what your life might have been before you met your husband, who you were when he was alive and you both were happy. Leading him to think about his own life, the massive overbearing weight of his own life.

Hard, dark, and heavy, but it was carryable.

A little hard to carry, but he could carry it.

He made a call to steven’s job, doing his best british accent. He updated them on the phony family emergency, so he wouldn’t get fired, but they were running out of time. There was only so much FMLA Steven had left.

You were on his mind. Despite his best efforts to focus on the task at hand.

You felt far away.

The pain was heavy inside his chest, making his heart beat feel wrong. It gnawed at him like a wild dog. A ferocious desire eating him from the inside. The fear of not being fed makes it fight harder and harder. It’s teeth gnashed and bit down on his soul. Ripping him apart and leaving his strown flesh and guts in the cold, what’s left of his heart beating out of his chest.

Jake ignored it, donning the mask and suit of threads. Perhaps the suit's healing factor could stave away at the wild untamed longing.

It must be from Marc’s.

The foreign wild emotion was unlike anything he’d ever felt. He ignored it as he jumped in the air, running across rooftops. He ignored it as he glided through the air. He ignored it as he landed on the fire escape of the little run down hotel room he’d got temporarily for them as Marc did fuck all with the body.

Opening the closet door he looked at the little evidence board he’d been making.

“If you had listened to me, you’d know by now that you need to go back to the large house. With the. . .girl.”

“She’s a grown woman.” Jake blinked. “Why do I need to go back?”

“The spiritual disturbance is in the house.”

“But that’s just—“

“Not. The husband.” Khonshu bellowed. “It’s following him.”

This wasn’t good. Not one bit.

Whatever magical disturbance Khonshu had Jake chasing the past couple of months was getting worse. The nights spent keeping the magical monsters and powers at be from hurting ordinary people were getting longer and longer.

They were running out of time and Marc hogging the body only made things worse.

You don’t need me to tell you what you must do…” Khonshu started, his looming form’s glow faded into the shadows out of his vision and back into the apparatus of his mind. His voice became the memory of a distant echo in his mind. “The gnawing,” his voice faded even farther away, “is of your own creation.”

[jiang-yanli-s-soup]

I just know they would be best friends 🥺

Their chaotic duo would shake all three realms to the core 🤌

And the fact that they both have the same voice actor ლ

[911-incorrect-quotes-dispatch]

*Buck and Hen getting drunk at 2 pm once again* Buck: If you had become a gynecologist, you would have been unstoppable. Hen: How so? Buck: Well, you would’ve been both a lesbian and a gynecologist, which would’ve made you a va-genious. Hen: *fell to the floor laughing*

[tomato-turn]

So, in Twitter (or X now), I saw a post saying that hirotsu is Chuuya's drinking buddy, and when Chuuya gets drunk he starts being a gramps...

@petitesmafia is this what you said?

[joeythephatone]

Jason Sudeikis in "Drinking Buddies"

[annetictac]

Like I used to watch you sleep Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 3

It had been three years almost four since they had broken up, two years since he had last been in the same room as her – accidentally of course – and one hour since he admitted he had been avoiding her since that morning at his trailer.

“It’s not as if I check if she’s going to be at every race-”, he excused himself taking a big gulp, training be damned. “Just big events, it’s not like I was invited to the music events when we were dating, they probably didn’t know anything about me”.

“Yeah now you are showering with MTV invitations,” Daniel joked shaking his head. It was true that their socials hardly ever combined being from two different fields. The only time they had, he had kept himself at a distance, one of the firsts events he had been invited with Kelly. And though he had seen her get up stage to receive an award he had hardly been near her. “I mean I imagined you were somehow avoiding her at the beginning – don’t we all?- , but I thought you had heard the songs and maybe they touched a bit too close home”.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve heard some, the more popular ones, but well…” he admitted nodding, rubbing his face frustrated. “There’s this little moment when we go to the states … you know they always like to invite as many stars possible or bring someone for an event or two that I think she might come, but … it hasn’t been the case”. He understands now the mixture of dread, relief and disappointment he would usually feel when they gave him the program – the only one he would ask with time in advance for the whole year. 

“Well, what do you expect?” Daniel counters. “I doubt she would just drop to see how you are, if she doesn’t know she’s welcome. I could ask Geri…” Max’s eyes double in size.

“Are you fucking nuts?” he snaps. “And I what, introduce her to Kelly?”

“I’m not saying that, idiot,” the aussie snaps back quickly. “Talking about Ms Piquet… what’s the deal between you?” Max shrugs.

“We are ok, I guess,” Max mumbles, eyes focused on his drink.  

“Really?” Dani scoffs. “Heidi said she didn’t think so”. Max looks up and they battle for some minutes before he sighs in defeat.

“She wants a kid, I’m trying to ..” Max huffs and rubs his face. “Avoid the conversation? The subject all together?”

“Mate,” Dani begins but Max glares and his stops.

“I know,” Max concedes. “I have to talk to her”.  They drank in silence for some minutes, not sure how to continue.

“It’s been what four years?” Max looks up confused. “Since you broke up with her,” he begins, scratching his moustache. “Maybe the whole pending conversation one front is making you see others that might not have been as closed as you liked? As many psychologists I follow on Instagram, perhaps some self – sabotage?”

“Maybe,” Max replied shrugging, another old fashion gulp. He winced at the bitter taste. “I just…” He begins but doesn’t find the words. “Sometimes I think about what could have been if I hadn’t…”

The doorbell rings repeatedly, probably Lando arriving two hours after being summoned.

“Lando doesn’t know right?” Daniel checks as he walked to his front door. Max shakes his head and Daniel makes signs of zipping his lips.

“Hello bros!” Lando greets giving a high five to Daniel who receives it with half of his enthusiasm.

“We were about to fall asleep,” Max replied dryly.

“That’s because you’re old old men, it’s like ten for crying out loud!” Lando cheekily replies. “Old fashion?” he asks once he approaches the improvised bar. “See? Old old men!” he announces victorious. “Where’s the vodka?” Daniel sighs, avoiding quoting ‘too old for this shit’. He pulls out a bottle he gained from Mazepin a few years back that one smell could knock you down.

“Comes with warning,” he explains seriously, taking out small crystal shot glasses.

“Well, what are we celebrating?” Lando questions as he serves generous portions for the three small glasses, taking a curious sniff before buffing. “Fuck, this is strong!” Daniel nods in remembrance.

“Celebrating?” He returns.

“Yeah! Did Max get renovated for 20 years, even if they have to chain him to the car?” The youngster adds gathering courage for the shot. He takes it quickly, wincing and airing his tongue. “Damn!” he manages to screech. Daniel hoots, Max joins him, less thrilled, shaking his head and playing with the brim of the small shot.

“Nop,” Max offers. “We are just being old men reminiscing the good old days,” he continues as he considers taking the shot, but finally pushing it away. It’ll be difficult to explain to Kelly why he arrives drunk home when he has a debrief early in the morning. It will be worse to explain to Christian.  

“Gosh, reminiscing, what an old thing to say,” Lando says jokingly. “Anyways what could you be reminiscing about? World champion for the second time and the season is not over,” He raises one finger as he continues to number “…great car – if the rumours are true, and you can tell me I’d only tell everyone at McLaren – Kelly’s smoking…. Her personality evidently is very importante and she’s just not a body- hello?, should I continue?” he rambles not paying attention to Max’s glare or Daniel trying to hide his snickering.

Silence takes place as Lando steals Max’s shot, cursing in low breath at his pour choices, while Daniel joins with his shot.

“Dudes,” Lando begins in his very best American accent. “If distraction is what’s needed, and vodka is rejected,” shot glass nodded in Max’s direction. “I shall have to follow one of the bests distractors known to modern society… gossip!” He climbs one of the stools, refreshing everyone’s drink quickly.

“Paddock gossip?” Daniel wonders wriggling his eyebrows.

“Nah, that shit is dead now,” Lando rejects quickly, stabilizing over the stool. “I should probably have something to eat with this… I’m starting to get dizzy,” he stumbles out of his chair grabbing the first bag of chips he finds.  He takes a handful and tries to eat them all in a bite. It takes more minutes of awkward silence while Max and Daniel wait for him to resume what he knows. He swallows exaggeratedly taking a small sip of the glass closest to him – Max’s watered down old fashion-. “So, as I was saying, did you watch Anna Pearsons’ documentary last night?”

Before he said this, Daniel had mimicked the young driver and had his mouth full of chips, that he half spit when Max’s ex’s name came to the table.

“Hear me out! Hear me out!” Lando continued quickly misunderstanding Daniel’s reaction. He took out his phone and began browsing his phone quickly “I didn’t watch it only because she’s hot! Which of course she is, I would say yes even if she only wanted me to follow her around to give her bottles of water. She’s one of the biggest song writers active right now, has broken many records and she’s in all an important character of our generation!” Max gives him a look that he once again misunderstands. “OK ok, but I think she will be! And look look!” Remote in hand he turned on the tv now in synch with his phone to immediately put a talk show neither Daniel nor Max recognized.

Max had not seen the rest of the documentary the day before, Penelope had woken from her nap and he had been playing with her for some of the afternoon while Kelly left with some friends for dinner leaving them for an early night. She had joked with him that he had to wait for her for them to finish it together. He had nodded with no intention of following through. He had no intention of finishing it, not pleased with the pitch in his stomach that had taken residence in his chest since he had first seen Anna on TV. It had taken him years to stop feeling the knot after they had broken up, he felt incredibly weak and stupid for feeling like this over an exposee of his ex-girlfriend. What would his father think.

“And also, apparently she’s single!” Lando added pressing play, breaking Max’s thoughts. “Was it this one?” Lando muttered to himself.  

“I mean she wrote to him what’s probably the most romantic album of our generation! Am I supposed to believe that love exists after this?” A young commentator said in disbelief. There are about six people seating in a room, most of them younger than Lando, only a women in her forties is at the middle acting like some sort of moderator.

“How could he do this to her?” Another asks.

“Men are assholes!”

“Wait! Wait,” an older female reporter interrupts the talk. “No one has said who left who, we only know that Roberto waited ‘til the end of the first part to be dropped before saying anything, which yes is a little sketchy” she tried to reason. “We don’t have anything that says what happened between them, Ms. Pearson’s team has not given any statement. There will be no crucifiction of character while I’m on the show”.

An image of Anna wrapped around a tall, wide brunet came up. “--- in fact, this is the only official confirmation we ever had they were even together”. A series of no more than ten photos of her and tall dark and handsome apparently actor showed consecutively through the back of the show. It ends with a capture of an Instagram post that reads something along the lines they had broken  up and the asked for the press to leave them alone. Dani snorted besides him.

“It is so douchy! They have never talked to the press about them and now he gives a f** (a bleep interrups) communicate without sharing it with her first?”

“We still don’t know if they talked it previously!”

“I mean she wrote songs that we call classics!” The first of the commentators returns to attack.

“Even if they were not for him, even if as she says she inspires from many situations not only one love, dude we are talking about the girl who sang the Can’t help falling in love rendition not breaking eye contact with him,” Another interrupts.

“He was the actor hired for the rendition, of course she had to stare at him!” Another counteracts.

“Rumours say they had been together as far as 2019,” A snort scaped Max, because that little he knew wasn’t true. “So even Last Kiss could be his!”

“And she was the one who made them hire him!”  The older reporter’s face revealed to feel the chat was going out of control, keeping herself out of the latest exchange of opinions when Lando stops it.

“This one isn’t helpful,” He mutters as he checks another video. “I saw a good one yesterday that spilled all the dish!”

“I loved this album because I gave myself the licence to write from different perspectives, to return to my beginnings,” Anna’s voice comments as a photo of a girl – her – no older than 10 was in a big desk writing away. “I used to write stories before I wrote songs and now, I feel this album is honouring that”. She raises from the chair and the camara gives a bigger plane of where she is. A quick assistant hands her a guitar once again. “This is an old one, but a good one…” She begins strumming.  

“We were in the backseat,

Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…”

 “This one is good,” Lance muttered in drunken appreciation. She kept playing in the back, camara closing the frame around her face and the top of the guitar.

“I hope I never loose you,

I hope it never ends,”

“Lando?” Dani interrupts, half amused looking at the younger pilot’s infatuated face and noticing Max was paying attention too closely at his ex as if she had been in his living room instead of his TV. Lando hummed confirming he was listening. “What’s the dish?”

“Oh she’s probabily going to be main artists in one of the F1 european stops,” Lando rambled breaking the spell of the situation.

“What?”  Max splutters.

“Yeah probably second half of next season,” He continues. “Apparently they are backing her to some old contract they had with the company that represents her”.

“Oh!” Daniel huffed. “I doubt after the last time she would be so willing to come back”.

“You are old! She came like four years ago, apparently it was a two-year contract that she summoned some clause to break it, they have been delaying and she only has ‘til next year before penalties”.  

“Maybe she prefers the penalties?” Daniel snickered not missing Max’s face at the news. Lando however drunk he was, his eyes narrowed information being processed.

“What do you mean?”

Max openly glares at Daniel.

“What happened?” Lando continued skipping between both older drivers to see if something scaped. Then he got lucky, Max was avoiding staring at him and Daniel was having a field day. “It’s not like you two …. Dated right?” Then Dani couldn’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing. Max’s face was all Lando needed for confirmation. “Nooooo!” He cried almost falling from the stool. “How the fuck did no one know?” Lando’s eyes seemed ready to pop outside. “Shakira has barely showed twice and we all knew she and Lewis are a thing”.  

“It’s not like no one knows, it was winter break, we ar- were very discreet and … Christian knows, Dani knew,” Max shrugged, knot tight. “It didn’t last long”.

“You fucking bastard!” Lando cried slapping Max on the back not sure if congratulating him or in envy, taking a quick shot. “Dani dude, you can’t have shit like this at home!” He turned to Dani sniffing the half empty bottle with fake disgust.

CHAPTER 4

[warpedlegacywrites]

For the DADWC: "I drank every sky that I could," from the Florence + The Machine lyrics prompt list, for Dorian Pavus?

Happy @dadrunkwriting! Have an adorable scene of Dorian and Cullen hiding from a party at Skyhold and drinking on the battlements!

Dorian storms down the hall of Skyhold as fast as he can without looking like he’s hurrying. He estimates he’ll have maybe until the next bells before anyone notices he’s missing, and he wants to savor every moment of freedom he can. Much as he normally relishes the chance to be everyone’s favorite exotic curiosity, tonight’s crowd is especially voracious.  He pushes through the final door and emerges into the frosty night air, breathing the cold deep into his lungs. Yes, tonight is a night for solitude. Contemplative, constructive. Quiet.  The battlements are mostly empty, sparing the odd soldier on patrol. Dorian storms past all of their stiff salutes without so much as making eye contact. Perhaps his impending departure and proceeding journey home has lowered his tolerance for being the center of attention, but tonight he really just wants to be alone— He comes up short just as he rounds a corner and nearly trips over Cullen, leaning forward between crenelations, propped on his elbows and gazing out at the vast, white emptiness below. He might have anyway, at the rate he was going, if the foul-smelling smoke from his pipe hadn’t warned him just in time.  Cullen looks up in surprise at the dramatic near-collision, pulling the pipe from his mouth. He blinks once, twice, and then shock melts into wry humor.  “You too?” he asks. 

Dorian takes a moment to straighten and readjust his stance, trying to reclaim some of his laconic charm and cover up his malcontent. 

“I only needed a moment to catch my breath,” he says, coming around Cullen to lean with his back to the view and crossing his arms. “These people are relentless.” 

“Tell me about it.” Cullen’s eyes roll dramatically, and he returns to puffing at the pipe and admiring the view. 

Uh-oh. There’s that grumpy tone that Dorian has come to associate with the intrepid Commander’s darker moods. Even at a glance, it’s plain to see the broody shadow over his face. 

“You’re not about to hurl yourself over the battlements, are you?” Dorian asks, only half-joking. 

“Not yet,” comes Cullen’s flat response. 

“Good. The Inquisitor would be so disappointed in me if I let you deprive her of another dance.” 

“What’s disappointing is how difficult it is to find a good Fereldan ale tonight.”

Josephine had left standing orders that not so much as a single hops leaf be allowed within sniffing distance of the main keep, where it might offend the delicate sensibilities of a few dozen of her little Antivan merchant court. 

“That’s because ‘good Fereldan ale’ is an oxymoron.” Hmm. Can an oxymoron be more than two words? Ah well, Cullen’s not likely to care. 

“Don’t tell me you actually prefer that syrupy mess they’re serving in there?”

Dorian scoffs. “I should hope you think better of me than that.” And he pulls forth from the folds of his robe the wine bottle he’d managed to smuggle away from one of the servants. And by smuggle, he means bribe. 

It’s a bottle of clear cordial made from some type of winter night-blooming flower Dorian only vaguely recalls are called something like “snowbells”. The label reads “Blissard” – a pun so terrible it should have landed its crafter in prison. But judging from how protectively the servant was hovering around the cupboard where it was stocked, Dorian is fairly certain it was well worth the loss of his second-favorite ring. 

Cullen glances at the label with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Is that one of the bottles Josephine has been so paranoid about? She better not catch you with it.”

Even better. “Catch us, my friend. I’m making you my partner in crime tonight.” 

He and Cullen share a grin as he pulls out the corkscrew he’d grabbed on his way out. The cork gives way with little trouble, unleashing a pleasant if sharp scent that reminds Dorian of flower petals. He takes an experimental sip, and immediately his tongue is awash with something dry and pinpoint-sharp, a cold burn that he feels sliding smoothly down his throat. A bit like drinking the sun-kissed sky in the midst of winter. 

He makes a pleased sound, and hands it to Cullen, who hesitates. “You’re really going to turn your nose up at this when you’ve already burned off half your taste buds with that?” Dorian points with his nose at the pipe. 

Cullen smirks, and takes the bottle, challenge accepted. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs, giving it a thoughtful frown, before taking a pathetically small sip. “Mm, that’s actually not bad.” 

He hands it back, and they trade it back and forth for a few rounds. Soon, Dorian can feel its effects tingling pleasantly in his extremities, and the relentless mountain winds don’t bother him nearly so much. It’s not the sort of thing they’d serve in Tevinter, and… surprisingly, that’s exactly why he likes it. 

Tevinter wines are so dry they’re more like scorched earth than sun-kissed flora. Which he normally quite enjoys – “a vintage that’s as sharp as his wit” is his favorite joke at parties. Where else will he be able to sample such a wide variety of flavors, from so many different skies? 

Vishante kaffas, he’s waxing poetic again. Usually a sign of melancholy. Better continue to drink about it. 

“You leave in the morning?” Cullen asks, in a deliberately casual tone. 

“That’s right.” Dorian takes another drink. “Within a fortnightI’ll be back to civilization at last. I can almost taste the sweet air of the Nocen Sea already.” 

“Have you said your goodbyes to Tess?” 

That’s the cordial – Cullen almost never lets his pet name for the Inquisitor slip in mixed company. Theresa never seems to mind when he does, though. 

“Haven’t had the chance yet. She’s been waylaid by Josephine’s cadre of accountants most of the night. Supposedly, it’s absolutely vital to the future of the Inquisition.” Dorian allows himself a sly sideways glance at Cullen. “I think she’s avoiding me.” 

Cullen smiles knowingly. “Don’t take it personally. That’s her default maneuver when avoiding her feelings.” 

“Oh, I take it as a compliment. The longer she avoids me, the more she’ll miss me.” 

“She’s not the only one.” 

Dorian gives him a skeptical look. “Andraste’s arse, you’re not about to get sentimental on me, are you? Because I’m suddenly strongly reconsidering sending you over the battlements after all.” 

Cullen laughs outright. “You wouldn’t dare risk Tess’s wrath.”

“I already risked it when I told her I was leaving.” 

He’s met with a canny stare. “Are you sure it’s her who’s doing the avoiding?”

Dorian’s breath hitches for just a beat, but he recovers quickly. “You see? This is why I’ve got to leave. Far too many of you know me far too well. I need to return to a place where no one has the slightest clue what’s actually going through my head.” 

It’s as close as he’ll ever come to an admission, and Cullen seems to recognize it, reclaiming the bottle with a victorious grin. 

“Far be it for me to ever claim to know what’s going through your head.” He drinks, and hands the bottle back. 

“There’s a good man.” 

Yes, he’s going to miss this place.

[crossovershipsandedits]

Characters: Zoro x Acheron

Fandoms: One Piece | Honkai: Star Rail

Relationship: Platonic/Romantic

They both got lost and found each other. It's canon, I don't make the rules.

Acheron drawing by Krinnin!!