#idec if i drink

[a-ikuoliver]

toxic trait is the easiest way to have me achieve smth is to be mad

[thecedarsights]

fucks sake i have never been so reminded that i am a cracker LOL. haven't eaten spicy food in a long time and ate some spicy asian noodles and had to chug a thing of lemonade😭

[androidboy]

i just drank a cappuccino and everything feels so right in the world

[spyroz]

i don't talk much personal stuff on here anymore but alas. my dad has hit rock bottom and is finally going to be talked into going to rehab for his alcoholism. after all these years. im ready for things to change. i just hope it's good for him

[codexxgigas]

Having an alcoholic parent is so painful idek how to describe it. And a functioning alcoholic at that in a society where alcohol abuse is normalized & you're weird if you dont drink. I hate it hate it hate it i dream of walking into a store with a bat and smashing every bottle of alcohol in there and setting fire to it.

[heartfeltcherie]

why is it that every time i tell people i don’t like being around alcohol, it’s like talking to a brick wall when they still bring it in

[inmirova]

cannot wait to show up to work tomorrow and like lose my mind if anyone asks me how my two days off were. fuck all the other reasons, I should be able to get my mood stabilizers represcribed without finding a new psychiatrist for the sake of literally every single person I'm going to encounter tomorrow

[marshmellowtea]

going out with my brother tonight so i’m hoping for a getting fucked up redemption night because last night was kind of a bust lmao

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Look for the Soul and the Meaning

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Depictions of illness

Summary: You’re sick. Daryl makes sure you’re not alone.

A/N: I have been uber sick this week and just needed some self indulgent comfort. Idec if he’s ooc this time.

*gif is not mine

Groaning, you rolled your head from side to side, even the soft cradle of the pillow intensifying the ache in your skull. Your throat was a tunnel of razor blades, your lungs trying their best to eject themselves over your tongue. Your body ached and protested, skin sensitive from fever. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think.

“I feel gross.” You whimpered. You raised a hand toward your face but found it to be too much work, letting it drop to the mattress beside you.

“Know ya do.” His raspy whisper acted as a balm to your pain.

A blessedly cool cloth touched your forehead, remaining there for a moment before it was pressed against each cheek and then your neck. Your sigh came unbidden, shameless and sudden.

“That’s nice.” You croaked before being seized by a coughing fit. It was dry and unproductive, the mucus coating the inside of your lungs like slime, unmoving. It hurt. “Daryl.” You whimpered.

The flu hit Alexandria during your first autumn within the walls. Though some fell victim, just as they had at the prison, the community had medicines readily available. IV fluids, oxygen tanks, and fever reducers. This virus was different, thank god; a less intense influenza. That, however, was not a comfort when it came to feeling the symptoms.

“M’right here, Sunshine.”

The coolness left your skin to burn, but once his fingers began carding through your hair, his lips touching your forehead, you could no longer feel the heat. And for one moment, coherency filtered through.

“Daryl—Daryl, your bandana.” You wheezed, reaching for the fabric he had pulled down to hang around his neck. Looking at him, even your eyes felt like they would singe out of your skull. “You’re gonna get sick too.”

“M’gonna be fine.” He caught your hand easily—your movements too sluggish—and kissed the inside of your wrist. “Means ya gotta get better so ya can take care’a me.”

You chuckled weakly, triggering another cough. It jostled your sore body, earning a whine and a few tears. Your eyes had screwed shut to ride out the ordeal, but opened when something touched your lips. The bottle felt odd, warm and scratchy.

“Gotta drink for me.” Blue eyes flickered up to the bag of fluids hanging from the bedpost but didn’t linger. “Help them fluids do their job.” You reluctantly obliged, fearing the feel of the water against your already irritated throat.

Turned out, it was heavenly.

You drank greedily, not even thirsty but lost in the relief the cool liquid was providing. When it was suddenly taken away, you chased it with desperation.

“Gimme.” You pouted.

“In a bit. Ya gonna make yourself sick.” The cool cloth was back and the water was forgotten. With weak uncoordinated movements, you pulled the blankets up further, your entire form trembling with chills.

“Tell me a story, Daryl.”

The cloth ceased its travels. “A story?”

“Mhm. Don’t care what it is.” Sleep was standing in the corner, pulling at you incessantly, your eyelids growing heavier and heavier despite the heat and pain. “Tell me about your chupacabra.”

It was Daryl’s turn to laugh, a sharp exhale through his nose. “Nah, that ain’t no sickbed story.”

“Tell me—something.” You yawned, wincing when you could feel the pull on your inflamed throat. It was quiet in the room, your eyes closed and chest wheezing. But then:

“Once upon a time—”

You mimicked his earlier laugh, your eyes remaining closed. “So cliché.”

The man at your bedside scoffed. “Ya want a story or not?”

“Mhm. Sorry.” You whispered, already fading, the cloth pulling away to be replaced by his fingertips in your hair, ghosting over your face.

Daryl cleared his throat, the deep breath he sucked in was unsteady. “Once upon a time, there was a woman. She was a smartass. Pigheaded as all get out.” The corner of his mouth lifted when you began to snore, your stuffy nose making it impossible to breathe properly. “She met a redneck drifter, a real asshole.” Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your overly warm forehead, letting them linger there. Pulling back, he stayed close, just watching you sleep, stroking the hair on the crown of your head. “An’ somehow, she changed him.”

Sitting back, he grabbed the cloth and dipped it in the bowl of water, back to battling the flames beneath your skin.

“S’far from the end, Sunshine.”

[curryalley]

I need Clint Barton to meet Dick Grayson.

I need Clint to roll into a SHIELD ops assignment meeting having absolutely not read the briefing materials before the meeting. I need Phil Coulson to explain that there has been a serious threat against the life of Dick Grayson. Wayne Corp is about to announce some new initiatives. Intelligence confirms a criminal syndicate plans to kidnap Dick Grayson to force Bruce Wayne to call off the plans. SHIELD needs Wayne Corp to go through with it (and kidnapped sons of billionaires are always a headache) so Clint, we've created an identity for you as a Wayne Corp employee to keep an on things.

And Clint has to be like, "Yeah that won't work."

The analysts immediately take offense. "It's an airtight identity, you've done worse undercover work than babysitting a billionaire's kid."

Clint interrupts. "I can't pretend to be someone else around Dick Grayson. I know him. Me. Clint Barton. We were friends when we were kids."

Everyone at the meeting is losing it and Clint stares at them all. "How many circus kids do you think there are? Haley's and Carson's didn't tour together but our paths crossed in the offseason."

That explains why during his afternoon walk home, Dick Grayson comes across his childhood friend, Clint Barton, wearing jeans and a purple tank top, juggling and doing tricks for cash on the street. SHIELD has adjusted Clint Barton's identity so he's down on his luck, busking for spare change because it's hard to get a job when you're a deaf former circus performer with barely a GED.

Of course Dick wants to help and they reconnect. Dick asks Clint to perform at a Wayne gala. The same gala where the goons attempt to grab Dick Grayson. Dick keeps trying to slip out and change into Nightwing but? Somehow? Clint is always behind him? They're both trying to fight off the goons, still in their civvies, each trying to rescue each other while also not giving away their secret idecities,

"Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"I used to be a cop. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Would you believe me if I said bar fights?"

When it's all over, there's some disagreement about who is walking who home but Clint insists since Dick was almost kidnapped. Clint gets into his Hawkeye gear and plans to spend the night watching Dick's building for trouble when he sees Nightwing go swinging away from it.

Naturally he follows. Nightwing is meeting with the bats to report on the kidnapping attempt when there's a wild bit of confusion and mistaken identity as one of the bats slams Hawkeye to the ground and demands to know why he's following Nightwing.

Clint's lying there partially stunned at being nearly splattered by one of the robins or something when Nightwing leans over him.

"Clint?"

"Hey, Dick."

Clint and Dick were already friends but that's the story of how Hawkeye meets Nightwing.

(In the sequel, Clint turns up outside Dick's apartment months later. He's wearing multiple bandages, drinking a coffee with the name on the cup horribly misspelled with a K and holding Lucky's leash. He looks at Dick and says, "The Tracksuit Mafia has moved to Bludhaven, you got any plans tonight?")

[ruewrote]

𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛 𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: ... GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: almost by hozier WORD COUNT: 937 NOTE: its four in the morning so if there's any grammar mistakes bro idec anymore, anyways love you guys

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the five of you were out on john b's porch passing a blunt around, you were talking absolute utter bullshit about everything and anything, well that soon stopped when you caught a certain look that was shared between john and kie.

a slight awkward cough left you before you stopped speaking, feeling embarrassed, it didn't help that you were newer to the group and didn't have the same bond they all had together.

so pushing yourself off out of the chair you were currently sitting on, faking a smile asking everyone if they wanted anything to drink as you went to walk into the home, hearing no's from everyone you made your way to the kitchen. not feeling a pair of eyes on you as you did so.

your eyes watered, sniffling trying to gather yourself, lightly shaking your hands to distract yourself from crying, blinking away the tears successfully.

starting to walk back to the front door, swallowing the lump in your throat, pushing the door back open announcing some bad, but believable excuse to them before rushing home.

this is so stupid.

you really shouldn't be so sensitive y/n.

you lay on your back with your eyes closed trying to focus on the soft music playing in the background, but your loud thoughts wouldn't stop eating at you.

well, that of course was until a little tap on your sliding door turned into two taps, this continued to happen. furrowing your brows, looking over to the glass thinking it was just a tree branch.

nope, it was very much little rocks, pushing yourself off of your bed closer to find the cause of the knocking, looking down only to find a cheeky smile on a certain blonde's face looking right back up at you.

"rapunzel, rapunzel let down your hair!" he shouted in a playfully deeper voice, you rolled your eyes before opening it and yelled back.

"you know i have a perfectly good front door, right?" quirking an eyebrow at him and he groaned back at you.

"but this is so much more romantic, no?"

you had to admit that did make you smile, you moved back over to your bed to keep up your 'stoic' act. soon enough a very out-breath jj was leaned against the right side of the railing on your balcony.

"you— ah. that looked a lot— easier from down there." he was now bent over with his hands on his knees quickly regaining his breath as he stood up straight and gave you a look, the sort of look that said i have an idea.

that’s when he started to run for speed towards you, your eyes widened as you realized it was too late to move out of the way when his body collided with yours, ending up with him on top of you, you both groaned as you tried to push him off.

only for him to make his body deadweight against you which made you struggle more, “ugh! get off of me, you’re so heavy.”

“nope i think i’m gonna stay right here, you’re actually super comfy, night night,” he muttered before shutting his eyes, nuzzling his face into your neck. not that you’d mind being in this situation any other time but not now when he’s all sweaty and gross.

you eventually gave up pushing him, accepting your fate underneath him. remembering how super ticklish he is, you wrapped your legs around his waist as your fingers gently dug into his sides making him jolt off of you laughing.

"im sorry-- i-m sorry, ah--." unwrapping your legs, he fell onto the floor, still slightly laughing whilst looking at you, reaching your hand out for him to grab with a smile, "wanna order some pizza?"

that was it for the next so many hours the two of you messed around, having pillow fights waiting for the food to arrive, eating and then you both ended up a tired pile on your bed, jay resting his head on his arms now gazing up at you as you spoke quietly since everyone else in the house had gone to sleep, it was just the two of you awake.

books. you were now rambling about what new book you were reading and the contents in it. telling him your favourite parts so far, barely noticing that you were talking entirely way too much when you stumbled over your words.

not even realizing that you hadn't even been looking at him the whole time, your eyes had been glued to the white of your ceiling whilst using your hands to slightly gesture what you were talking about.

he was awfully quiet beside you, glancing over for you to be met with a soft jj, how his eyes drooped slowly as he blinked, a gentle smile on his lips. he was listening...to you.

you offered an awkward smile before groaning into the palm of your hand and laughing, "i was doing it again wasn't i? should i stop talking?"

"don't, your voice is very soothing."

with that being said you continued what you were saying previously but now faced him, running your fingers through his hair smoothing the pieces that were falling in front of his face.

chuckling when you heard the sound of his light snores, your hand only stopping its movements when you had to lean over to turn off your lamp, snuggling deeper into your covers as you skimmed over his face in the dimly moonlit room as sleep overcame you.

that's when you discovered your new fondness for the blonde pogue.

© ruewrote.

[ronearoundblindly]

Ro! I’ve been on a mint chocolate chip ice cream kick lately, and it makes me wish I could share a pint with a babe (that’s also probably very much the pre period hormones, but anywayyy) which ice cream flavor do you think you would associate with each of the babes? Their favorite flavor and/or personality trait-wise.

Mint chip is my favorite, too! \o/ I don't get to eat ice cream much, but this was interesting to think about. I will try not to project onto the babes, though, only their pure likes maybe...

Oh snap! I can use the banner again!!! (All characters I've ever written for below.)

James Mace - Neapolitan

When this guy indulges (very rarely), he can't decide on just one flavor, so the easiest thing to do is get multiples. If he can go to a shop where you order by the scoop, he'll ask whoever is behind the counter what the popular or new or their faves are and try three of those. Mace, I believe, can pack away some ice cream.

Curtis Everett - Birthday Cake or Cotton Candy

The sickliest sweet things are a delight to Curtis. He's never gotten over how bland and boring and miserable the food of his childhood was. He goes nuts for sugar overload, but in intensity of taste, not in volume.

Jimmy Dobyne - Peach

Fruity, refreshing, creamy, and just screaming to add a dirty joke onto the end of it, Jimmy will use any excuse to sneak a double-entendre into polite conversation with a pretty lady. "Your peaches taste the sweetest..." Yeah, dessert is more about flirting than it is about eating. Ice cream is nice in the heat, however, so it's a great date option.

Johnny Storm - Cookies & Cream

With extra cookie crumbles and caramel sauce on top, he'll demand. Sprinkles, too, if you have it. Maybe some gummy worms or cereal. At least, like, five cherries. Oh! Also preferred that it be hard frozen when he starts eating so that it's not soup halfway through his rapid eating of it. The sensation of eating ice cream gets lost when he can barely tell it's cold.

Jake Jensen - Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip

This flavor has everything (and yeah, ok, I am projecting a bit on this one, whatever). Jake likes a whole lot of flavors and textures; he's actually not picky at all. He does enjoy ~the hunt~ for this rarer find in all his travels because raspberry is a popular flavor--it's often a sorbet though--but it's not the most popular of the berry options. He also will try all of the crazy niche flavors at hole-in-the-wall places. Conversely, it is easier to work while not holding a bowl or cone, so Jake loves a good milkshake or malt. Those he can sucked down like air.

Lloyd Hansen - Mint Chocolate Chip

My theory is this man is obsessed with fresh: fresh food, fresh sheets, fresh intel, fresh meat. Bet you his lip balm is always, only mint, too. Very classic. Very pristine. Fresh. Sweetness with a purpose.

Ari Levinson - Butter Pecan

Fine, I'm projecting again, idec, but you can't tell me Ari isn't this kind of old soul who loves not-overly-sugary treats! You cannot change my mind. That guy loves the crunch of candied pecans in there, he freaking lives for that rounded slightly-savory sweet cream flavor, and he loves that it's widely available but never sold out anywhere. Easy!

Ransom Drysdale - Coffee

And it's weirdly been that way since he was too young of a kid to drink coffee? Turns out, this was the flavor his father got but told Ransom he wasn't old enough for, he wouldn't like it. Of course, Ran immediately ordered two scoops of it in a chocolate dipped sprinkle cone, and while he may not have been totally keen on it in that exact moment, coffee-flavor grew on him. He loves it as much as he loves all of the other behaviors that say "f*** you" to his parents.

Steve Rogers - Rocky Road

Created during the Great Depression, this ice cream was shared between Steve and his Ma quite a few nights when he was too sickly to go out but needed a pick-me-up. Bucky enjoyed it with him, too, but it's not his favorite. Steve tends to really enjoy eating only when there's nostalgia attached to the food.

Bucky Barnes - Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter

Rich, velvety, and made slightly different by each company. Sometimes Bucky wants ribbons of fudge and the tiny pb cups mixed in; sometimes he wants full-blown chocolate ice cream with peanut butter swirled in. Can't go wrong. Only good, heavy, decadent happiness vibes.

I am...stunned at how confident I feel in these choices HA!

Thank you for asking!

[lipglossanon]

i’m the piss kink anon that used the 🫡 emoji (can that be my anon identity?) honestly i never realised until reading ur step dad fic but like.

im so down bad i need real dad! leon to piss down my throat idec at this point. just free use with real dad! leon using my throat as his own personal urinal like yes sir lemme get on my knees whenever u need.

-🫡

Howdy 🫡 anon!

(That emoji is all yours by the way 😉).

AGSJFHL real dad Leon would be so into it too 🤭 especially since your mom is pretty vanilla and sticks to missionary or something

Having you offered up on a platter to use whenever he wants? He’s all about it. Coming home late at night after drinking with his friends, he see that you’re on the couch watching some shitty late night shows. Sits down on the couch next to you and starts to slowly touch and grope you, whispering about how much he wants your mouth on him.

You can smell the whiskey but you’re so turned on and you’ve already promised about being a free use hole for him 🤭 he’s half hard when you pull his cock out of his jeans and he pushes down on your head and just uses your mouth as rough as he likes.

It’s sloppy and messy and kinda gross sounding, but you’re so eager to make him cum that you let him control the pace. He’s so pent up that it doesn’t take long for him to spill down your throat, cock throbbing and kicking against your tongue and the roof of your mouth. However, he’s been drinking so much tonight and now that he’s so relaxed that he just starts pissing in your mouth.

You choke and splutter, but can’t pull away as he keeps your head still, petting you and moaning about how good it feels. Your cunt sticks to your panties from all the slick you’re leaking

“You’re the best,” he slurs, “be daddy’s good girl and drink it all up, baby.”

[brighttears]

Dusk

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description, no use of y/n 

Summary:  Not long after you, Joel and Ellie arrive in Jackson. You and Joel are instantly drawn to each other, not able to get the other off your minds before you’ve even spoken.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of drinking

A/n: my brain is soggy rn but here is the first chapter idec if it flops the second chapter is almost done i am seeing this one thru i have like a whole document for planning shit. this will be a slow burn btw

—

“these hands that kill, these hands that slaughter the marrow of life, these hands which are capable of so much tenderness, which is where love lies, i do not know how to contain these contradictions, within you, within us”

—

You don’t smile, don’t move your face at all, just kind of… observe him, head cocked, half hiding behind a post about thirty feet away from him in the Tipsy Bison. Usually, Joel would glare his glariest glare and it’d do the trick, but you don’t look like you’d even be phased, and you’re also making him nervous and self conscious and all he can think is don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush. Not knowing how to handle this, Joel folds his arms, glances at you and then away, at the floor, clears his throat, shifts, and looks back up and past you as if he doesn't notice you at all. It’s a little creepy, but your shameless intensity intrigues him more than anything has in a long time. Also, you are fucking stunning. Joel tries to subtly puff his chest but then decides against it halfway through. In his peripheral, he may have seen the corner of your lip curl. When he turns to look, he only catches you eyeing him one more time as you turn and walk somewhere behind him, past the corner he leans against. He catches himself before rubbernecking and instead lets you disappear. 

Then Tommy comes up from the other side of him, startling Joel so much that he flinches and almost chokes. “God damn it, Tommy.”

His brother only laughs, nudging him with a knuckle in his shoulder. “Am I goin’ crazy or did that chick over there just make you blush?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Joel grumbles, looking around to see who else may have caught him.

“Ah, come on. It’s cute.”

“Shut the fuck up Tommy.” he grumbles tongue-in-cheek, nudging his brother back. “Fuck do you want, anyway?” he smirks.

“Well, I came over to ask if you wanted a drink, but I can tell you her name if you want.”

“Whose name?” Joel very poorly feigns obliviousness and it makes Tommy laugh.

“Aw, come on. Look… I know you haven’t been here long, but,” he cocks his head until Joel looks back at him, “you can relax, you know,” he chuckles, but Joel isn’t amused. Tommy has had this talk with him a few times now and he does not like hearing it. ‘Relax’ sounds like such a ridiculous suggestion. When he’s mulled it over after past conversations, he only becomes more frustrated by the contradiction of his heart and gut—the pull of desire towards the concept of relaxation and the alarms going off at the same time. Joel has always felt intensely and it jabs at him as Tommy speaks. “I mean, we’ve got a bar, Joel, you can ask her out.” 

So that’s what he’s been getting at this time. Joel scoffs overdramatically. 

“Well, when Maria finds out about this she will be settin’ you up with her.” Tommy smirks.

“You will not tell Maria.” Joel snaps quietly, turning his body towards a still wildly smirking Tommy. He quickly tries to correct himself, “There’s nothin’ to tell.” but Tommy ignores it.

“Hey,” he shrugs his shoulders, “who says I’m tellin’ her? If she finds out she finds out.”

“Tommy, I swear to god…” Tommy cackles, Joel shakes his head and lets himself chuckle. Then Tommy leans on the wall next to his brother and they just appreciate each other's company. 

After a few moments of silence, Joel asks, trying to keep his voice casual, “What—what’d you say her name was again?” 

Tommy laughs again, “You’re just gonna have to go ask her yourself.” Joel gives him a mostly fake glare. “Aw, come on. Lemme pour ya’a drink, loverboy.”

“Loverboy?” Joel follows his brother to the bar.

—

A couple hours later, Joel sits at the edge of his bed, elbows resting on spread out knees, eyes closed and face resting on clasped hands like he’s praying. He’s more cursing himself though, trying desperately to tug at the flap that will roll the projector screen back up where images of you flick over it on a loop. 

He’s seen you a few times but has yet to make actual eye contact with you for more than two seconds. 

The first time he saw you you were eating alone at dinner, all the way across the room from him in the Bison. He stole glances, which was more like a diet stare, until you caught him. When he dared look back up, you were staring back at him while chewing. He did not look up from his plate again that night.

The next time he saw you you were on horseback, squinting against the sunset as you rode in from a patrol shift. Your rolling hips popped into his head and spooked him several times the next day. He definitely did not let the film roll at night. 

The last time he’d seen you before today you had caught him staring again at breakfast. After counting to ten, he looked back up, but you hadn’t looked away, barely containing a laugh with food in your mouth. Were you laughing at him? At the fact that he couldn’t stop looking at you? Were you making fun of him inside your head? It made Joel blush and he once again became very interested in the food on his plate for the rest of the meal. 

You are annoying the fuck out of Joel because you make him fucking blush, his mind wanders to you far too often throughout the day, and he is too fucking nervous to talk to you. He feels juvenile. He considers asking Maria to either put him on a shift with you or never put him on shift with you, but either way he’d be letting the cat out of the bag and she would never let it go, and then Ellie would find out and would never let him hear the end of it. 

It was in that moment, realizing he was just at the edge of losing sleep over you, that Joel knew he was fucked. 

— 

Before Joel and his little friend Ellie, you were the newest person to Jackson by far. Meaning, everyone was already all settled in and it left you feeling distanced and insecure. You still jump at every noise, hunch over your plate as if to protect from someone snatching it from under you, and are in general not very hospitable. It isn’t really anything against anyone, mostly just habits you’ve picked up from the road. The people here are nice, but that isn’t comforting these days; it can be more frightening than someone who’s upfront about being malicious because at least then you know what to expect. Arriving here, you didn't know what fuck was going on. You are so far removed. Some nights you pack up all of your belongings and consider taking a horse and bolting, but when you start thinking about where you’d go, you understand again why you hadn’t done it last time. It’s a bit nerve wracking here, but out there is walking around in a nightmare. 

Maria was the one who’d vouched for you when she and the rest of the horseback crew found you lying in the snow not far away from their settlement. You had collapsed from exhaustion, malnourished and lucky you still had all your toes when you woke up. You’re also lucky that they didn’t kick you right back out when you did wake up, since you’d basically trashed one of the rooms in their mini hospital in a wild panic. Despite that, Maria took a liking to you; she told you she liked your spirit and how gentle you were when some of the kids ran up to you—the shiny new toy—later that day while you were eating your first actual meal in the Bison. She and Tommy basically weaseled their way in from there and remain your only real friends, which you like. 

You saw Joel and Ellie ride in a couple months later and as soon as you got Tommy and Maria alone you questioned them about why they liked these two so much. Tommy told you that Joel is his brother who had come all the way from Boston to find him, having taken care of this kid, Ellie, the whole way there. You were impressed and wildly intrigued. 

What makes them stand out in your mind more is that you saw yourself in their eyes when they first rode into town—more than anything it was bewilderment. Because of this, no matter how curious, you know you’ll have to wait for them, like stray cats, to come up to you first. 

Ellie barely registered you though and you didn’t think Joel did either until you caught him staring. It was threatening until you noticed he was blushing. Then, it was fun, because you were making the big tough pretty boy blush without even smiling at him. 

You happened to be cleaning your saddle one day at the stables when Joel walked in with Tommy to grab horses for patrol. They weren’t having any kind of private conversation, just talking about the weather really, so you indulged yourself by inching a little closer to the doorframe to get a listen of his voice. Gruff, twanged, sweet. Tommy made him belly laugh, and that was the moment you knew you were fucked. 

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Absolutely no-one asked for this, but me and @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ have very strong feelings on what different EM characters would have as their fish and chips orders. 

pov: me writing this fr

this is a full stupid ass shit post, it’s not serious guys, and unless I post something about it it won’t leave my brain

So without further ado, EM FISH AND CHIPS

First in the ring, the man who STARTED IT ALL, THIS LITTLE SHIT

Salad Days - Will What’s-His-Face

It’s canon that Will gets chips and a fanta, that’s it. 0 nutritional value. Also 10/10 on choice of chippy, it’s actually a really good chippy

HOTD

pov: aemond avoiding the grease

Aemond is not particular to a chippy dinner, insisting he doesn’t want anything bc it’s ‘too greasy’ (pussy). Aegon absolutely tears him apart for it. Just buys a San Pellegrino cos he thinks it’s fancy - absolutely fuming  cos Aegon shakes it up on the way home and it fizzes everywhere when he opens it

If Aegon hasn’t been drinking, bog standard boring ass fish and chips with half of a bottle of ketchup slathered over his chips so nobody else nicks them. Won’t go near mushy peas, thinks they’re gross af. If he’s drunk, a doner kebab, but the local chippy doesn’t sell them so he gets Alicent to drive 15mins up the road to the one that does. A diva through and through.

Helaena doesn’t eat fish, so opts for just chips and is the only patron who actually buys the picked onions. Has mushy peas and curry sauce and mixes it together with her chips, mostly does it to annoy Aegon tho.

Daeron is waiting at home, but everyone forgot to get him something so ends up with the crap, lukewarm chips left behind.

Alicent is a scampi girlie all the way, with a diet coke

Otto is put off by the food hygiene rating at the local chippy, so takes his own fish to get battered like a weirdo. Decimates his chips with a litre of vinegar.

Daemon never gets to eat a chippy dinner, so he gets a pie as a side dish, despite Rhaenyra claiming it’s not a side dish. But Daemon stands by that it most definitely is. It’s a gash steak and kidney pie and refuses to use any cutlery for any of it.

Rhaenyra is also a scampi girlie, but unlike Alicent, has G&T out of a can.

World on Fire - Tom Bennett

Now THIS BITCH.

Ok.

Strong feelings but, Tom is a Northerner yeah. So he is a full gravy bitch. Loves that shit. Would bathe in it if he could. Has dry ass fish, unseasoned chips cos he’s boring af.

TLK - Osferth

*sigh* Osferth. Angel. Baby boy.

Osferth orders a battered sausage, but gets given a battered Mars Bar by mistake. He doesn’t like confrontation so he pretends like that’s what he ordered anyway, but he’s secretly devastated and tries not to gag when he eats it.

Uhtred can have the kebab that gives him food poisoning, shitting for days, idec, if face annoys me

High Life - Ettore

Ok this guy is weird. SO he’s gotta have a weird choice.

Ettore has the saveloy because he enjoys the innuendo. Stares at it on his plate for an uncomfortably long time, making sinister eye contract with everyone while he eats it.

Trigger Point - Billy Washington

Ooft. THIS sad boy.

Billy gets a chicken and mushroom pie. Yes from a FISH AND CHIPS SHOP. But the Food Safety rating of his local is like a 3, so the pie has been sat under the heatlamps for HOURS, so it’s all grey, sad and soggy. But he eats it anyway.

To tie it off, I imagine Ewan Mitchell as 100% a battered sausage guy. He has gravy (cos midlands boi, we love). Won’t touch mushy peas with a barge pole and perhaps partial to a chip cob. Carbs on carbs, we stan.

Thanks for reading this absolute trash.

[wyattjohnston]

daisy & birdie take miami - jack hughes | andrei svechnikov

series: we don't have no time to waste & starting at the end

word count: 1,345

note: this is such self-indulgent world building that idec that i’m shadowbanned and it won’t show up in the tags. i haven't finished birdie & svech's fic yet.

i made some insta edits at the bottom too :)

Daisy didn’t skip class very often—her degree was important to her and the effort she’d put in to get transferred to Columbia could not be wasted.

However.

She made exceptions for the All-Star Break because there weren’t many other times during the year where Jack was actually able to relax. Not that the All-Star Weekend resulted in much relaxing at all with a tight schedule and handlers making sure they stuck to it.

Daisy, though—Daisy got to enjoy herself.

She was enjoying the free alcohol that had been set up in a sectioned off area at the Resort for the players’ guests who hadn’t ventured out into Fort Lauderdale by themselves. Daisy had thought about taking herself around, but she was no stranger to Florida and it was easier to just drink where it was free. There was also the fact that she was only a quick walk away from the hotel room if she got antsy about the unfinished assignment waiting for.

It wasn’t even a big deal to be sitting by herself, alternating between scrolling through her phone and taking off-angle, long distance shots of the little rink or interview tables that had been set up.

“Can I sit here?”

Daisy lifted her head, already readily agreeing, and was a little shocked when she half-recognised the person standing in front of her.

It took a few moments for Daisy to realise that it was Birdie Jones—an Instagram model she followed, known for her bright, colour-blocked outfits with matching vibrant makeup. She looked completely different in jeans and a tank top.

Birdie relaxed into the free chair beside Daisy, immediately stretching out and craning her neck to see everybody in the area.

“Someone got married last year,” she said when she was looking back at Daisy. “I want someone else to do something insane this year.”

“I was the one who got married,” Daisy said, a shocked smile on her face. Nobody but Jack had brought it up and she fully expected it to just be something that had happened that wasn’t interesting enough for anyone to remember.

“It was you?” Birdie asked, her voice increasing in pitch considerably and she sat up straighter. “You’re my hero.”

“We’re not really married.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t matter. Someone had to; it was Vegas.”

“That’s what we thought!” Daisy said, slapping Birdie’s arm in excitement. “Some people didn’t find it very funny, but we’re young and dumb so I think we got a free pass.”

“Which one’s your husband?” Birdie asked, gesturing to the hockey players.

Daisy pointed to Jack in the crowd of players, staff and media, leaning in so she could make sure Birdie knew where she was pointing, “Jack, from the Devils.”

“Oh, nice, I’m with Andrei from the Hurricanes.”

“I know,” Daisy admitted. “I really like your Insta.”

“Oh my god! Thank you, that’s great and really nice of you, but, like, I have an idea and I need a friend who will be in the post with me. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone, so we’ll need to do a quick run to some stores but I have an idea.”

“Me? In one of your posts? I would be honoured but—”

“No buts! Whatever you’re about to say and put yourself down is not true and I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t serious.”

Daisy stood up before Birdie did, the excitement of their afternoon already getting to her.

She hesitated only briefly before shooting Jack a text to let him know she was heading out, she knew that his phone hadn’t left his hand all day even as he sat in front of the media and that he was incapable of letting a notification go unchecked. That was a him problem, though, and part of her hoped that his reaction to seeing a text from her would be caught on camera.

Birdie had gone into the weekend with the intention of taking break from work. A lot of people would, and did, argue that taking photos and posting them to Instagram or making videos and posting them to TikTok didn’t constitute work but Birdie’s 3 Million Instagram followers had not appeared overnight.

There was one idea she wanted to do, though, far less formal and intensive than normal but otherwise much the same—Daisy was the final piece to that puzzle.

Birdie dragged Daisy through Fort Lauderdale, in and out of stores trying to find the perfect baby blue outfit to match the baby pink one she’d brought for herself.

“How did you and Svech—Andrei—meet?” Daisy asked as she pulled a face at a skirt Birdie was holding up. “Does it have to be a skirt?”

“Course not, we can find you something else.” Birdie hung the skirt back up and searched for the next baby blue item. “I met Drei through a friend of mine meeting a guy on the team. How did you meet Jack?”

“High school sweethearts; we’ve been together since junior year.”

Birdie’s smile was real, the sweetness of it all hitting her right in the heart. It was made all the sweeter by the lovestruck look on Daisy’s face. She hoped her own face looked like that when she spoke about Andrei.

They didn’t find anything that they both loved enough to make it onto Birdie’s feed, and wandered in and out of a few more stores—including a pit stop to get some mojitos because it was happy hour at the bar they passed.

“Do you know who Andrei is just from my Insta? Or are you into hockey?” Birdie asked, having clocked a few things Daisy said throughout the day as the latter but not being a hundred percent certain.

“I’m a Red Wings fan, born and raised. I was into hockey long before Jack came around—but the school I went to had quite a few of the US Development Team kids so I think I was doomed to love this stupid sport. Are you into it?”

Birdie laughed. “I love the Canes as, like, a little family, and that’s about it.”

Daisy agreed, at least, that it must be pretty bizarre to get thrown into the world of hockey if it wasn’t something you were interested in.

After a couple of mimosas, and a few texts from Andrei that moved from him being lonely in the hotel room to being less lonely at the hotel bar, the girls found the store that worked for them. The perfect colour caught Birdie’s eye as soon as she walked through the door, and she held up a pair of blue pants—that had a matching blazer—to Daisy who instantly agreed that it was perfect.

“This is so wild; I’m going to be in a Birdie Jones post. I know that you’re human, and I went through this exact thing with Elena Rubio where I like met her and was so uncool about it and now she comments on my Insta posts and it’s normal.”

Birdie snorted, loudly, “You did not just compare me to Elena Rubio.”

“I mean, like, you’re both famous or whatever and I’m a nobody college kid.”

“I’m not ‘famous or whatever’,” Birdie said as she rolled her eyes. Daisy protested.

They were back in the hotel lobby when Birdie said, “We’ll probably have to take the photo in the morning, I need Drei to take it but he’s out having fun somewhere.”

“No way! Like, I thought he was taking some of your photos but he’s like a full Instagram Boyfriend?”

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

“Jack’s useless. I’m going to steal Svech for a little bit. Just a day or two, build up a backlog.”

“We should hang out in the summer or something—you don’t need Drei, you need me.”

There was some squealing, and some earnt glares from the older men in the lobby, before Birdie was catching Daisy who flew at her with an unexpected and excited hug. It was easy to be swept up in the excitement.

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