[[ I was bored and found the idea of this ridiculously funny, so here you all go, have a drunk Raven.
For those who have a character in the series, pretend that you're actually you in this, okay?
For the sake of keeping things (nearly) legal in Australia, Raven and the reader are both 17 in this. (:
THERE IS A LITTLE BIT OF SWEARING. JUST A WARNING.
If you're unfamiliar with "x reader" fiction, then here's the key:
(y/n) = your first name
(h/c) = hair colour
(e/c) = eye colour
(s/c) = skin colour
(n/n) = nickname ]]
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It's a cool night in the beginning of May, about nine pm. You have been out this evening, doing something which nobody else cares about, and all you look forward to tonight is a good sleep. Blinking the haze of exhaustion out of your sight as you grab your keys to the house, you unlock the front door and hum a little tune to the empty dwelling. Or, as you don't know yet, not so empty.
"(Y/Nnnnnnnnnnnn)," a familiar voice calls out as you close the door behind you, and you almost drop your keys in surprise. That was Estella, all right, but why was she talking like that? And wasn't she meant to be on a mission with the other girls tonight? You, though being a member of the infamous Shadow Queens, usually stayed home on these occasions; generally, Estella trusted you to be the ones calling the shots into her earpiece, and though Thea and Ruby wasn't as close friends with you than Ese, the four of you got on pretty well and the Stone girls treated you like a part of the family.
So that didn't explain why Raven's words were, well, slurred. She was either method acting, as she did randomly, or ...
Oh hell to the no.
Putting your coat on the rack beside the front door, you flick a bothersome strand of (h/c) hair out of your eyes, and looked into the living room. It seemed empty, until a bottle of something obviously alcoholic was held up and waved about from on the black leather couch, before falling back down as if the hand had gone limp.
"Ow! I'm - hic - here, (y/n)!" Comes Raven's giggling voice, and your jaw drops. Then you facepalm at the teenager's antics, remembering that a) you were underage, despite being only a couple of months off of the legal drinking age yourself (it was sometime in early May right now, Raven's birthday was in about two weeks), and b) that through an accident, you discovered that Raven was a rediculously happy drunk. Thanks to whichever deity supervised drunken activities that she wasn't the violent kind. Thirdly, you were a little bit worried that she had hurt herself with dropping the bottle down.
"Ese," you sigh, removing the hand from your face as you decide to voice your thoughts, "what the hell are you doing?" Picking your way across the floor, your (e/c) eyes are met with the clouded icy gaze of Estella, as she watches you from her lying position on the lounge. Her blonde hair is still tied back in a plait, and she wears a black gown, as if she had been dressing up for someone. And you figure that is is not the best idea she has had, lying down after drinking what you know to be some sort of alcohol. And why would she have dressed up? The tall girl clutches the bottle to her chest and responds to your question after a moment, though you had already forgotten exactly what you had asked.
"Drinking my gue, no, die, nofuckwaitaminute..." She trails off, frowning. "Guy problems away. Yeah that's the stuff. Why, what about you, (y/n)?" Raven looks back up, seeming to be a little bit too close to falling asleep than you are comfortable with. You gently ease the bottle from Estella's grasp, and turn it over in your (s/c) hands. She mumbles a protest, reaching out her arms weakly for the bottle, but you snatch that away too. The blonde pouts at you, looking like a child.
"Guy problems? Why on earth would you have guy problems?" You echo, frowning. If you remember correctly, doesn't the one person that Estella likes romantically like her back? Yeah, you're pretty sure that that is the case, though possibly both are way to oblivious to know of the other's intentions.
"Becauuuuuuuse, (y/n), Harley is the most oblivious lit - hic - little shit I know and I'm normally too shy to even say something remotely suggestive to the guy." Estella frowns again. "Nope, I can still remember, gimme the bottle bac - hic - back." Now she appears to have gotten the hiccups. You sigh, and shake your head in a pitying way, though now you had one side of the story and couldn't wait to tell Thea.
"Nope. No more drinking for you from this one. Give me a minute, okay?" You say, taking the bottle with you as you head for the kitchen to get a glass of water for Estella. You hear a muffled reply, probably something uncomplimentary considering your friend's intoxicated state, and let yourself smile a bit as you put the alcohol away. Getting out a plastic bottle, you fill it with water and put a lid on, before going back outside to the lounge room.
There, Estella appears to be asleep, but when you sit down on the edge of the couch, she opens one eye quickly and looks at you. Thankfully, her hiccups appear to have ceased for now.
"Watcha doin?" She asks, as you gently pull Estella up by her arms. She sways on her feet, and you sigh again. That's happening a lot tonight, you think as you put an arm around her for support.
"Taking you upstairs so you can sleep this off."
"Will you st-a-a-a-y with me, (n/n)?" Estella asks, yawning in the middle of the sentence, as you begin to lead her up the wooden stairs. That, in your opinion, goes to show how exhausted she is right now.
You sigh again, and the only emotion you can muster up right now is defeat. "Sure, Ese." It wasn't your original plan, but the last time this had happened had been a disaster in the morning. You are about to say something else when the scarred teenager stubs her bare toes on one of the stairs and curses loudly.
"Hey, Ese?" You ask gently, thoughts suddenly called back to the black gown. "What's with the dress?"
She makes an I don't know noise, but finally answers once she is tucked in to bed and you are comfortably collapsed on the beanbag.
"Same reason I was drinking, I guess?"
"I am so telling Thea."
"Do it and there will be Quills in unpleasant places."
