#whiskey writes

[whiskeythefishski]

Fake album covers for a smosh pop star au I’ve been kicking around in my head :))

Part 2!

Track lists written out under the cut :)

Amanda Lehan-Canto, “Chronically Offline”

Secret Garden

I Live In Your House

Fortune Teller

Grass Under My Naked Feet

Five Nights

I’m Taking the Keys

Creekside Killer

Delores

Do You Promise…?

Sleepwalking

Out Of Your Fucking Mind

New York

Bonus Track

She’s Gonna Have a Baby

Angela Giarratana, “i fear i’m losing the room”

you’ll never be a star, kid [feat. mariah rose faith casillas]

2011

day at the races

i wish i didn’t say that

bit city [feat. chanse mccrary]

i need to calm down

grace

I’m having the most fun

blurry vision

garlic aioli

he’s not a gentleman

i fear i’m losing the room

Bonus Tracks

cut that! [feat. chanse mccrary]

spork’s song

Courtney Miller, "The Wenching Hour"

Boho [feat. Jackie Uweh]

April Fools

Strike a Match

The Sniper

Seriously Super (STUPID!!!) Sleepover [feat. Kimmy Jimenez, Olivia Sui)

Perignon

Johnny & Courtney 4 Never

The Funeral Director

Kiss Currency

We're Just So Opposite!

Bikini Girl

I'm On My Way

Bonus Tracks

See You At Work

The Wenching Hour

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

I’ve always thought it would be fun to be a seat-filler at award shows, and now I can’t stop thinking about sitting next to a flirty Pedro Pascal.. (especially since they say you aren’t supposed to talk to the actors!)

The idea of him introducing himself (as if he isn’t a famous actor), sharing candy he snuck in with you or trying to make you laugh while on air and having to shoo away the award show employees that try to intervene. Him just being smitten with reader the whole night.. okay, I’d *love* to hear your take if it interests you!

Hi Nonny dearest, sorry it took me so long to respond, I just had to get my thoughts together because I LOVED this idea so much!! So here we go, hope you like it.

The Seat Filler

Pedro Pascal x Reader

A/N: here's another one, hope you all like it. No hateful comments please. Again I gotta shout out @ziggyrocket for the support ❤️. It's 6:32 in the morning, apparently I don't sleep like a normal person, I'm on my second cup of coffee, so any typos or whatever are my bad... and Maxwell house coffee's.

Warnings: none (well, corny jokes I guess)

----------------------------------------------------

You had signed up for this gig half on a dare and half out of curiosity. Being a new sign-up, you hadn’t expected to be called in right away, but yet, here you were, in a borrowed gown, in a theater mixed with some of the biggest stars and regular people just like you: seat fillers. 

You remembered the main rules the director told you: 1) look like you’re enjoying yourself, always smile and 2) most importantly DO NOT talk to the actors, meaning the actual celebrities. You nodded and murmured your understanding along with everyone else who was there to work as fillers, not really thinking anything of it. What celebrity would want to talk to me anyway? You mused as you took your seat.

You looked around the theater, excitement flooding through you at the idea of being in such a place surrounded by people you had admired from afar, in magazines, and online. You took a deep breath to steady yourself; you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. You glanced at the empty seat next to you on your left and wondered who’d be in it.  On your right was another filler and on their right was another empty seat.

The filler next to you leaned over slightly and whispered, “Who do you think they’re gonna put next to us?”

You shrugged. “No idea, hope it’s someone good.”

He nodded in agreement, then a look came over his face as he glanced over your shoulder.  You turned your head to look and you blinked hard as you recognized the man coming towards you, and taking the vacant seat next to you. While the man next to you was busy getting settled,  you glanced back over at your fellow seat filler, whose jaw had semi-dropped. You both exchanged excited looks, then you nudged him lightly with your elbow and he shook himself, cleared his throat lightly and sat up. You both faced forward, determined to be on your best behavior. 

Unfortunately for you, your newest seat mate had different ideas. Pedro knew the whole deal with seat fillers and how they were told not to speak to anyone. But he felt a mischievous streak go through him when he saw you glance at him briefly. 

“Hi,” he said, taking his seat. “I’m Pedro Pascal.”

“Hi,” you said back, nervously glancing around to make sure that no one saw you speaking to him. 

The two of you smiled at each other, before you turned back to face the front. He took a few seconds to study your profile as you sat there, determinedly facing the front, sitting as still as a statue. 

He glanced down and saw that your elbow was resting on the shared arm rest. With a small smirk, he placed his on the arm rest too, bumping yours. 

You looked over at him, smiled awkwardly and whispered a hurried, “Sorry,” before moving your arm and facing forward again.

After a few minutes, you placed your elbow back on the arm rest, and, noticing that, Pedro, bumped your elbow again with his. You moved your arm again. And then a few more minutes later, you placed it back again, only for him to bump you again. After the fourth time this happened, you looked over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow and he just smiled innocently at you.

A few minutes later you felt him shift next to you, you looked over and saw him pulling out a bag of Skittles. You tried to hide your smile, but he noticed and nudged you slightly and offered you some. You looked around, making sure that there was no one watching, and then you held open your palm and he shook some of the candies into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered and popped a few into your mouth. 

A little over an hour into the show, you could feel him getting restless next to you. You figured the sugar had gotten to him. After the Skittles, he had pulled out a candy bar, broke it in half and shared it with you. He fidgeted in his seat, tapping his fingers on his knee and the seat. You tried to ignore it, but you had to admit it was more than a little distracting.

“Are you okay?” you whispered hurriedly to him.

He turned to you and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you though?” you asked, gesturing to his jiggling knee.

He smiled. “Yeah.” But his knee kept jiggling, you had to suppress a laugh at that. 

He noticed you struggling to keep a straight face, and decided to aim the restless energy he had at you. He was going to make you laugh, really laugh, by the end of the show. His mind was made up.

He thought for a moment and then he leaned over to you, “Psst, hey.”

“Yeah?” you answered looking straight ahead.

“I have a question.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Why did the bicycle fall over?”

You were confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I said: why did the bicycle fall over?”

“Uhh, I don’t know. Why?”

“Because it was two tired.”

You turned to look at him after that, he laughed at the look on your face.

“That was corny,” you said, shaking your head, but pursing your lips to keep from laughing.

“Oh, that reminds me of another one,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He looked around,  cleared his throat, and then asked, “What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”

You shook your head and shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to say anything but wanting to hear the punchline, you turned to him.

Barely able to suppress his giggles, he answered,”Aw, shucks!”

You put your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the laugh you felt escaping your lips.

“Okay, one more,” he announced. 

“Oh, lord,” you groaned.

“It’s a good one, I promise.”

You waved your hand slightly for him to go ahead, knowing he would anyway.

“Okay, why are pirates called pirates?”

You bit your lip trying not to laugh. “I don’t know why?”

He leaned closer. “They just arrrr!” he whispered the last word in a bad pirate accent. 

You couldn’t help it, you snorted, then quickly covered your mouth to stifle your giggles, but he’d heard it, and he smiled at that.

“Good one right?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, oh my god, that was bad, but…” you couldn’t finish as a fresh wave of giggles overtook you. Your shoulders shook with your suppressed laughter.

He smiled and laughed along with you. For the rest of the ceremony, he would lean over and whisper comments about one person’s speech, or another’s outfit, nothing malicious or mean, just something to make you smile. And he always had a bad joke or two to whisper to you. 

By the end of the program, your cheeks were hurting from all the smiling and your stomach was sore from the laughing. You couldn’t help it, a few had escaped, luckily it was during the jokes the emcee told, so it looked as if you were enjoying the show. Truth be told, you couldn’t remember what had happened during the show, or who had won which award. If someone had quizzed you on it after, you surely would have failed; but you felt it was worth it because being seated next to Pedro had made it the best night of your life. You hadn’t laughed that hard, or enjoyed yourself that much in a long time.

After the show was over, you headed out with your fellow seat filler.

“You seemed to really be enjoying yourself,” he said as you filed out into the lobby.

You nodded with a huge grin on your face. “Yeah, I did.”

“I could tell,” he said, nodding, “what was he saying to you to make you laugh so much?”

You shrugged. “Oh, just a few jokes, and comments that’s all,” you said lightly.

He looked at you curiously, but when he realized you weren’t going to elaborate he commented, “Lucky you. The one they put next to me was on her phone the entire time.” He shook his head. “At least you got some entertainment.”

You two chatted for a little more, making plans to grab a late dinner with him and some of the rest of the seat fillers. Before you could leave, however, you felt someone tap you on your shoulder.

“Okay, I have another one,” you heard Pedro’s voice in your ear before you could turn around. “Just thought of it.”

You looked at him. “All right, go on.”

“Which bear is the most condescending?”

You started laughing then answered, “what?”

“A pan-duh!”

You burst out laughing along with him. “Where on earth did you even hear these?”

He shrugged. “Internet.”

“They are so bad,” you said, still chuckling.

“And yet, you laughed. Therefore they did their job,” he pointed out.

“True enough,” you agreed, “thanks though.”

“For what?”

“Making this event… well, eventful. I was prepared to be bored out of my mind, sitting there like a statue, smiling a fake smile the entire night.”

He smiled at you. “Well, I’m glad I could help. So, what are you planning on doing after this?”

You shrugged. “I was gonna grab something to eat with some of the rest of the seat fillers…”

“Oh, okay, I'm doing the same.” He nodded and looked away. You noticed that for a second he looked slightly nervous, but before you could get a good look, his face cleared and he turned back to look at you.

“I guess I should let you go then…” you said, turning to catch up with your friends.

“Wait, one more question.”

You stopped and looked back at him. “What's up?”

“Well, you know, I have a lot more jokes…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, and, well, all my friends and family have heard them. But you haven’t, at least I’m pretty sure you haven’t….”

You nodded. “I haven’t, I don’t think.”

“Good, well, I shall have to inflict them upon you, you know, if you don’t mind. Maybe over dinner tomorrow?”

You thought for a second. “I don’t mind at all,” you answered with a huge grin.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

some of the questions do include some small spoilers for late s2 so it might be best to finish watching at least ep39 before doing this quiz

hey!! i made a which prime defender are you quiz just for funzies <3 a couple of the questions do have spoilers for late s2, so if you haven't finished ep39 at least you should probably wait to do it!! do my quiz boy :3

[threewhiskeylunch]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Aaaayyyyye. I finally found the mental capacity to sit down and write a thing. It's not long and it's not mind-melting, but it's words all in a row that somehow manage to make a little fic.

Stars beloved pirate Andronikos Revel and Male Sith Inquisitor of the Chiss variety. That's Star Wars: The Old Republic for the curious.

Happy days.

[whiskeysmulti]

A Little Bit Sweeter (A Banana Fish Drabble)

Gift for @bananafishdepression

Ash's birthday Fic 2024

Ship: implied pre-shorash (somewhere between Angel Eyes and Banana Fish setting)

Summary: Ash never really liked his birthday when he didn't find anything good about being alive. Shorter was about to try to change that.

Word Count: 505

Ash hadn't really been too keen on his birthday when he found nothing good about being alive. He wasn't really even alive anymore, he was merely existing. Alive meant he felt more than empty numbness and chills at night. But that was all about to change.

He'd never realized how fast his life could change just by meeting another kid in juvenile detention who was about to become his savior, a true angel in his eyes. Anytime before when Ash had been ganged up on, it ended badly. However, now that he'd met this other kid, no one dared to mess with him now.

"I'm Shorter. And as long as we're friends, no one's going to mess with you." Ash had heard comforting words such as this before, but this time, he had hope. This kid seemed genuinely sincere and he wasn't going to let his past fears get the best of him. However it wasn't so easy to let someone in when the only protection he'd had for so many years was the gun he grabbed to protect himself with as a kid. Why did Griffin never make it home?

He couldn't blame his brother, but it just meant Ash had to grow up and had to do it fast. But for now he had at least one friend he could somewhat trust, as Ash didn't often trust anyone older than him. Thankfully Shorter was roughly the same age.

The more the two talked, the more they learned to trust one another and the closer they got. But that dreadful day, that reminder that he was still alive and had been brought into such a fucked up world on this specific day was inching closer and Ash wanted nothing to do with it.

He pulled the covers over his head and ignored the cries of his fellow gang members, until he heard that very familiar motorcycle pull up and that voice that somehow always could calm him, even when it was shouting.

"Yo, Ash! I didn't ride over from Chinatown for nothin' get your ass down here!" No doubt it was Shorter and he wasn't taking "not tonight" for an answer.

Quickly Ash threw on his red hoodie and sneakers and headed downstairs to a sight he didn't expect. There in Shorter's arms was the biggest cake he'd seen in a while. Ash had never had a reason to celebrate his birthday because he never thought he had a good enough reason to live. But here, before him now, stood one of the few people in his life he could always trust and depend on, going out of his way just to bring Ash a cake for his birthday? If that was anything, it was love. But love would take a little longer to get out of Ash and that was something Shorter knew from the beginning. Which was why he was willing to go slow and be patient and savor each moment he had with Ash, it made the chase a little sweeter.

[imgonnaragnorockurshit]

Whiskey's Marvel Masterlist!!!

(These are just my opinions lemme know what ur favorite marvel project is!!)(also my opinions change super often too so anything under my top 10 moves around)

Marvel's Daredevil

Thor: Ragnorak

Hawkeye

Spider Man: Into the Spiderverse

Shang-Chi and The Legend of The Ten Rings

Moon Knight

Thor: Love and Thunder

Guardians of The Galaxy

Black Widow

Loki

WandaVision

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier

Avengers: Infinty War

Captain America: The Winter Solider

Deadpool

Logan

Deadpool 2

X-Men: Days of Future's Past

X-Men: First Class

Ant-Man

Spider-Man: No Way Home

Dr. Strange: Multiverse of Madness

X-Men: Apocalypse

Captain Marvel

Marvel's the Punisher

Captain America: Civil War

Avengers: Endgame

Eternals

The Avengers

Doctor Strange

Marvel's Jessica Jones

Spider-Man: Far From Home

Black Panther

Spider-Man: Homecoming

Amazing Spider-Man

Venom

Captain America: The First Avenger

Ant-Man and The Wasp

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Marvel's Defenders

Iron Man

Marvel's Agents of Shield

Venom 2

Marvel's Agent Carter

Amazing Spider-Man 2

Gardians of The Galaxy vol. 2

The Wolverine

Iron Man 3

Iron Man 2

X-Men: Dark Pheonix

Thor: The Dark World

Thor

X-Men

X-Men: The Last Stand

The Gifted

Fantastic Four

Spider-Man

Spider-Man 2

Spider-Man 3

X-Men Origins: Wolverine

The Incredible Hulk

Marvel's Iron Fist 🤮 #fuckyoudannyrandyouinsufferabletool

Thank u @shayveridekidd for giving me the go ahead to post this hehehe

[whiskey-writes]

I have bad news...

Regarding the future of this blog and the fics in development

Hey babes. First off I am so so sorry for going awol. Life hit me hard for the last hurrah of 2019, and just as I was about to settle back into writing, tragedy strikes. The short of it is, my iPad bricked itself today and I never had the time and means to back it up nearly as often as a should available to me simultaneously. Meaning whenever I would have the time, I lack the means, and vice versa. And therefore I am liable to lose literally all of my written work that I have saved on the notes app. I spent the whole day on the phone with tech savy friends and family, pouring over the internet. My only hope is going to an Apple store and hoping they can give me a hail mary to fix this. To me this isn't just lost time in writing.

If I may shed the author and speak to those of you still around as a friend... Speaking and writing is hard for me. I often struggle like mad to find the right words. And of course it is at the most critical points where I have the hardest time articulating myself. This is just as true when it comes to story telling.

To me, I don't see myself as the creator of the stories I write. This is probably going to sound really cheesy but please, bear with me for it is the best way I can think to explain: My stories take life in their own way inside of me. I, just as much as any other author here, weave my heart and soul into their creation. Writing, in my experience, takes the amount of time it does not because it takes me that long to find the words, but because the story presents itself in my mind at its own pace. It comes to me more so than I write it.

So to lose all this work... It isn't a matter of simply getting over it and writing it again. The story has already been given life. Trying to write it all over again is like trying to recall a dream upon waking. It never is right. There is always something critical missing in the flawed retelling. And maybe this is stupid, but to be completely vulnerable and honest: it feels like the loss of an old friend. I know I am not alone in saying so much of myself is poured into my writing it feels like an extension of my soul. And now that has been ripped away.

(cw?: thoughts I expressed to my cousin amidst a brief moment during my anxiety attack where I could speak)

Like many of you, I came to fanfiction looking for support and escape. For healing. Being able to find that in the wonderful stories made possible by this community is what inspired me to start writing, and that writing has been instrumental in my personal growth over the past year. I have so much to thank for all of you. I owe immense gratitude to every one of you who have even so much as viewed one of my stories. I was nearly ready to release the second installment of Letters to You. And so much of the work I have prepared for that story and many more, just...

...gone...

Vanished.

It kills me. Both for the loss, and for not being able to share the stories that you have inspired within me with all of you. Especially since you have been so patient and have waited so long.

I am going to make an appointment with an Apple store and see if they can save at least something.

If the worst should happen, I will do my best to make up for what has been lost. I owe that much to you all, at the very least. I am sorry.

I love you. Thank you for being there for me. And I hope to see you all soon with the next story, for better or worse.

[whiskerknittles]

Make it Better

“Doctor, please, I assure you that I am fine.”

Julian continued to wave the tricorder over his hand, unphased. “If you were fine, then the constable wouldn’t have brought you to the infirmary, would he?”

Garak sighed. “I suppose he’s not one you could accuse of overreacting, could you?”

“Garak, the cut was through almost to the bone! How could you overreact to that?”

“Believe me, Doctor, I’ve had much worse.”

Julian pursed his lips. “Ah, yes, the life of a tailor is filled with extreme physical danger, isn’t it?”

Putting aside the tricorder, Julian took Garak’s hand in both of his. He roved his fingers over the now repaired skin, pressing gently to feel for any remaining damage. Though done with complete professionalism, the feel of his warm skin against Garak’s hand was alarmingly intimate. Garak cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I would call this extreme. After all, it’s perfectly healed now. By Starfleet’s most talented doctor, no less.”

Julian’s furrowed brow evened out and he finally looked up to meet Garak’s gaze, brown eyes shining with sincere, albeit begrudging, affection. What fool am I, Garak thought, as he felt Julian’s grip on his hands soften from clinical to familiar, to let such a lovely and caring human become so dear?

“You must promise me to be more careful,” Julian insisted, and Garak smiled at him.

“Of course. You have my word.”

“Good.” Julian, with some reluctance, released his hand. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Is there anything left? I suppose you could always—what is that human saying?—‘Kiss me and make it better’?”

Julian stared at him for a long moment, his eyes wide. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Garak’s. The contact was shockingly brief, and before Garak had the chance to even realize what was going on, Julian was pulling away, flushed and looking practically anywhere but at him.

“The—the saying is, ‘kiss it and make it better’,” Julian told him.

Garak sat perfectly still, trying to calculate mentally past Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me oh my dear how bold you are for doing that! So what now, Elim? Pass it off or…

“Well,” he said eventually, “I must admit, I’m not very sorry for the mistake.”

Julian smiled at him, shy yet brilliant, and said, “Neither am I.”

——

For @amemait!! Hope you get well soon!