#let the old lady be cool pls

[barbie-nightmare-house]

I have four pre programmed social pleasantries to offer and every time someone goes off script I am momentarily convinced I’m capable of murder.

[irl]

wht is it abt my face tht says yes pls cm tlk 2 me!!!!!! i wanna tlk 2 u!!!!!!! i wanna kno ur life story!!!!!!!!! pls cme tlk 2 me n ask me weird questions!!!!!!!!!!! i lov tht!!!!!!!!! pls cme tlk 2 me!!!!!!!!!!!! cos i need thm 2 kno its a lie

[bluetimeombre]

: ̗̀➛ Call it what you want to

You're an up-coming star, staring in some hit movies like Hunger games Ballad of songbirds and snakes and now Wonka, along the Timothee Chalamet.

[i'm obsessed with my man and just need to ignore the fact he's dating someone that isn't me. anyway, you're an up-coming actress who stared in the new hunger games movie and now you're also staring in wonka, the people love you and maybe, so does a co-star of yours] not proof read. this was very fun to write so maybe i'll do more, if anyone likes it. or just for me

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tayrussell, joshandresrivera, tomblyth, sadiesink_, tchalamet & others

yourusername: wonka press tour starts now!

809k likes. 304k comments

user: wait, you're in wonka?!

user: I LOVE YOU!!

user: mother giving us content, as always

tchalamet: now you've posted can you come up and help me

yourusername: no

tchalamet: pls!!!

user: omg she really said no to timothee chalamet, who does she thin she is?

user: slayyyy

user: isn't wonka supposed to suck

tomblyth: from one press tour to another, i see

yourusername: girls got to earn a living

tomblyth: she doesn't let the grass grow

user: say hi to timothee for me!!!!

user: omg how is she getting all the hottest guys in hollywood rn? gurl leave some for us

wonkamovie: 😍😍

balladofsongbirdsandsnakes: 😍😍😍

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you were flicking through comments by your friends when your phone started to ring, the familiar picture of your co-star flicking up on your phone. quickly, you dimissed yourself from your assistant and took the call. 'yes?'

'I need your help.'

'Timothee, you're old enough to zip up your own jacket,' you tease, leaning on the wall.

'I don't know what jumper to wear, what are you wearing? we'll coordinate.'

you'd opted for something of your own style. a jumper with pinks and blues and a white flowering skirt with a ring almost on every finger. this was only your second big press tour and sitting next to timothee chalamet every day for it was enough to make you nervous. so nervous you woke every morning wondering if you'd throw up. it didn't help you were also surrounded by others you'd looked up to, like olivia coleman and hugh grant. how were you supposed to keep your cool for months. even if now you were considered just as big a star.

'don't you have a stylist for this?' you ask, looking at the crew around, ready to go but waiting for him.

'there's three options and i don't know which one to go for. can't you just come up.'

you could, sure. go to timothee's hotel room and see him probably shirtless. once you'd have dreamt of it, but things were different, now you just didn't have a silly celebrity crush. now he was your co-star and very off limits.

'option two now come on, please.' quickly, you end the call and pick up your coffee, heading to the room where you'd be sat for the next eight hours answering questions with timothee.

you were there first, shaking hands with the interviewer and introducing yourself to her. you took your seat, making little chatter before timothee chalamet walked in, calm, cool and collected. completely different to your flushed and smiling expression.

you watched as he quickly said hello to everyone in the room and greeted the lady who'd be conducting the interview.

timothee turned to you, arms out wide and waiting. laughing, you put your coffee down and stood up, giving him a hug. you shared small pleasantries before he took his seat next to you, shuffling around and settling in. only then did you realise how much your jumpers looked the same, both smudges of similar colours. you blushed more as timothee watched, silently wondering what could make you so red. as if he had no idea what he did to you just by sitting down next to him.

'I have had scrub scrub stuck in my head since seeing the movie,' she- charline, said as you and timothee laugh. 'do you guys have a favourite song you got to perform?'

'I mean, pure imagination was quite a surreal experience. you know, getting to sing something that was so ... iconic, it was-it was a lot of fun. and a lot of pressure, but, in a good way,' said timothee.

'you killed it,' you assure, casually.

'thank you,' he smiled.

'i really enjoyed you've never had chocolate like this number. that was just so fun, the dancing and all,' you say, timothee nodding and agreeing.

'for a moment was fun to, i guess,' added timothee. 'we got to dance.'

you grin at the memory. 'we did.' you remembered the a million takes, timothee singing practically to you while prancing around. it was your favourite scene to shoot because it was such an easy and happy scene. you didn't have to think about it, just held timmy's hand as he twirled you around the place.

'and i know we're here to talk about wonka but i just have to say-' she gestured to you, 'congratulations on hunger games, biggest movie in the world.'

you wave her off, thanking her as timmy claps for you. 'thank you, thank you.'

'i was wondering what was your favourite song to film there on that set and how does it compare to singing on this one.'

ranting about yourself or your achievements was always hard for you. your stardom and come so quickly with hunger games and wonka, so much so you felt like you didn't deserve half of it.

'i mean, for hunger games it was all live. i sang them there and then so that's daunting in itself, um. i loved filming pure as the driven snow, just because i got to- essentially- sing it to tom. it was just him and me and the crew, like for those shots there was no extra's so that was great fun. a special moment. and singing it to him made it a whole lot easier. whereas on this movie, luckily it was all like pre-recorded so, not so daunting. didn't have to sing in front of timothee chalamet,' you say.

he listened carefully to you, seeing your smile at mentioning tom blyth, your co-star from the hunger games. he'd never met the guy, he was probably lovely- from the amount you talked about him. 'you've got a great singing voice.'

'thanks man.'

'this cast is just so insane and obviously you two got close during filming,' says charline, gesturing to the two of you.

timothee nudged you with his head, like he'd done a thousand times before knowing how much you secretly loved it. just like a horse, as had been quoted.

'who's more british, olivia or hugh?'

'hugh, easily,' you say. you loved all of hugh's movies, but you'd never say that to his face.

'you know, i'm gonna go and say you,' says timothee, turning to you.

you drop you jaw, pointing to yourself. yes, you were british, but more so than than the hugh grant seemed impossible. 'me?'

'yea, i mean, hugh grant is like a walking union jack- and i mean that in the best way possible, but you seem so much more like british. you know, wicked sense of humor and the charm and- you love london,' he pointed out.

'i do love london,' you agreed.

'did you have fun filming in england, timothee?' she asked.

they want on and on to talk about filming the movie, answering questions in depth and it was sure the two of you had great answers, listening intently together and everyone could tell. your chemistry was there, your smiles and answers together were almost so perfect it was like it was practiced and the fans ate it up!

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... zendaya, mtv, kyliejenner, yourusername, wbpictures & others

tchamalmet: WONKA!!! coming soon

tagged: yourusername

1.1m likes, 609k comments

user: he posted! he posted!

user: we are getting FED

user: i just know this is all yourusername influence

user: not kylie liking...

user: statistics! statistics!

liked by yourusername

yourusername: bring back little timmy tim!

yourusername: out of all the pictures you chose that one

user: anyone else think her and timmy are getting too close

user: like fr she stealin my man

user: i love them!!!

user: i swear something is going on with her and tom blyth

user: she's just like us!

user: LOVE!!!!!

user: her and timmy >>> him and kylie

user: plssss, i love kylie

user: is wonka a musical

user: TIMMY I WANT TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN!!!

user: fave bob dylan song?

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tomblyth, rachelzeglar, tchalamet, hunterschafer, zendaya & others

yourusername: ballad of song birds and snakes is number one movie? more like i'm the number one most grateful person out there for this chance and being trusted with my girl lucy-grey!!! thank you, thank you, thank you!!

tagged: tomblyth

1m likes 477k comments

tomblyth: lots of love my dear !

user: pls the second picture was so unncesary she just wanted to post it

user: MOTHER

user: parents are parenting

user: I LOVED THIS FILM

user: tom blyth is honestly so hot like wtf

rachelzeglar: my luv <3

yourusername: omg my gf everybody!!!!

joshandresrivera: funny how you don't post a picture of me

yourusername: it's funny because i don't like you

joshandresrivera: tomblyth you gonna let her talk to me like that??

tomblyth: she's the boss

user: how is she so amazing in everything

user: wonder how she got this job? she's literally as plain as a plank

user: hi!

user: the film was insane, i'm obsessed

user: i need this film injected into my veins

user: she's so good at singing, get her on broadway!!!

tchalamet: very proud

yourusername liked tchalamet's comment

user: why would you post the second pic unless they're clearly dating

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user: pls why do i ship them so hard!!

user: lol it looks like he's just refusing to answer questions without her

user: is nobody gonna talk about how they were basically wearing the same jumpers?

user: no because i thought the exact same thing

user: someone pointed it out in an interview and timothee said it was 100% planned, they're so cute

user: doesn't he have a girlfriend?

user: isn't she with tom blyth? they look like they're together?

user: they haven't confirmed it

user: they don't need to did you see her post on instagram?! it was all just him

user: no but the way she's just constantly blushing around him

user: so would you if you were sat next to the timothee chalamet

[agi-ppangx]

a face to remember (hwang hyunjin x gn!reader)

no warnings tbh, just fluff; 0.5k works, not proofread

author's note: um, hi ?? do you guys remember me ??🥸 this is the first thing ive written in the past few weeks so pls be nice, i know its not the best, but writer's block sucks so when i finally managed to put words into sentences im gonna post it and you cant stop me🙂‍↕️

“we finally got to talk to that old lady i told you about yesterday,” you said, pouring yourself some tea into the mug. you peeked at the screen and hyunjin smiled faintly at you, encouraging you to continue.

he was sitting at his desk, his phone leaning against the stack of books he kept there so that you could see him well. dim light in his room made him look so cosy, almost domestic, and it made your heart swell with love. “turns out she used to be a history teacher, so she told us about all of those cool stuff, like this one time-” you glanced at your phone screen again and noticed that hyunjin wasn’t looking at you anymore. he was holding a pencil, but you couldn’t see what he was doing. “hello? are you listening to me?” you pouted, but he only hummed, too immersed in whatever he was doing at that moment. “hey, if you don’t wanna talk i can just hang up,” you mumbled, hurt that your boyfriend wasn’t paying attention to you.

being away from your partner was hard – you missed hyunjin’s soft touch as he hugged you and played with your hair every night before you fell asleep and you missed making breakfast for him and kissing him goodbye when he went to work. your trip was only temporary, but it didn’t make things easier. those video calls were the only way for the two of you to not lose your minds completely, so seeing hyunjin busying himself with something as you talked about your day broke your heart. were you really that boring? 

“what? baby, no, don’t hang up,” hyunjin snapped his head up at your words. 

“then listen to me!” 

“i am listening to you, love.” 

“then what are you doing, huh?” you pointed at the bottom of the screen, right at the pencil in his hand. 

“i’m drawing you!” he responded with a mix of amusement and disbelief in his voice, picking up his sketchbook to show you the halfway done drawing. you recognized your face on the paper, letting about a little oh and blushing like crazy.

“why are you drawing me?” you mumbled in confusion as your whole face and neck turned cherry red. hyunjin giggled at your dumbfounded expression, putting the sketchbook down.

“i always draw you as we talk through the phone, you just never noticed. it helps me deal with the distance,” he confessed, letting out a loud sigh. “i miss you, y’know? so every time we talk i want to remember your face and that’s why i draw you.” you snorted at his words, your laugh echoing through the kitchen. 

“god, you’re so dramatic. i’ve been gone for two weeks and you’re acting as if you haven’t seen me in years.” 

hyunjin shrugged his shoulders with a small smirk. “feels like years to me. but i mean it when i say i miss you. my bed feels empty without you in it.” 

you felt a pain in your chest at his words. “i know, baby, i miss you too. but i’ll be home soon and you won’t have to draw me anymore.” 

“i’ll do it anyway. i love you too much not to draw you," he beamed, making sure to capture the spark in your eyes on his drawing.

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

[thepersonnamedsam]

vacation 🏝️🌊🐚☀️

pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid

summary: the grid enjoys the summer break together on a nice holiday

warnings: none :)

note: let’s all be delulu and think it’s not gonna take a month until we all see our fav people again

masterlist / taglist

yninsta

Maldives

liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 638‘738 others

yninsta the groupchat holiday finally made it out of the groupchat - happy summerbreak y‘all

view all 293‘267 comments

username1 who are the cones?!!! i need to know

username2 probably carlos, lando and danny

yninsta actually it’s me, oscar and danny, so 1/3 right

username3 shooketh that they finally did a group holiday

username4 probably took y/n to convince them to all hangout outside the paddock

username5 yes, she’s probably the connection point between them all, so cute

sebastianvettel looks fun!

yninsta it is! u should come visit us, pls seb

charles_leclerc we all miss you, sebastian

lewishamilton please seb, i need help parenting some young lady

yninsta hope u don’t mean me :/

username6 i love the dynamic, ahhhhwjejejkwjw

username7 i wish to be her, so i could receive all this attention of the drivers

username7 what does a girl need to do?!?3! tell me

username8 sigh, i keep trying to find the key

lewishamilton

Maldives

liked by shakira, yninsta and 1‘378‘728 others

lewishamilton maldives treating me well

view all 927‘209 comments

yninsta ohh, look who’s all fancy now

yninsta where are the photo credits?!? huh?

lewishamilton here

yninsta thanks :)

username9 he’s so hot

username10 what’s gonna happen now?

unsername11 hopefully xavi gets fired

username12 wasn’t he fired already? what did i miss

username11 idk, honestly

username12 ugh, how came one be so hot

yninsta posted on their story!

lando.jpg

liked by yninsta, danielricciardo and 827‘628 others

lando.jpg party rock is in the house tonight

view all 368‘263 comments

username13 this looks like a hangover on the next day kind of night

username14 lando looks so good in the second pic

username15 swooning, i can’t

username16 estie bestie made a rare occurrence

yninsta how can nando smoke a cigar in a club?

fernandoalo_official Because I am cool

yninsta if u still type with capital letters, no you’re not

fernandoalo_official HEY

username17 oh, the old man is mad

daniel3.jpg posted on their story!

yninsta

liked by username18, lewishamilton and 722‘263 others

yninsta enjoying the time off

view all 372‘118 comments

username19 it’s so beautiful there

usermame20 wish to be there rn

username21 ugh, how does danny look this good?!

username22 who’s the one surfing?

yninsta our beloved carlitos

username22 really? he can surf?

carlossainz55 don’t underestimate my skills

yninsta posted on their story!

pierregasly

Maldives

liked by yninsta, yukitsunoda0511 and 373‘638

pierregasly we went ziplining and yninsta kind of went overhead, not because of me tho…

view all 32‘727 comments

yninsta IT WAS TOTALLY BC OF U

pierregasly NO

yninsta YES

landonorris i saw it

username23 was it pierre’s fault?!3

landonorris yes

pierregasly NO IT WAS NOT

yukitsunoda0511 why am i not in this dump?

pierregasly bc you are in japan right now?

username24 poor yuki is not on vacay with them

yninsta he didn’t want to :(

yninsta and is still complaining

yukitsunoda0511 i wanted to see my family

pierregasly wE ARE YPIR FAMILY

yninsta

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 937‘268 others

yninsta the ferrari and the mclaren boyzzzzz

view all 103‘629 comments

scuderiaferrari y/n, you can take our job as pr manager now

mclaren no, she’s already hired by us

yninsta how about i am my own teams pr manager?

mclaren no..?

oscarpiastri i don’t look good in that pic

landonorris haha, thats true

yninsta don’t insult oscar, laNDI

username25 they all look so good

username26 y/n is old enough to drINK? when did she grow up?

fernandoalo_official Barely

yninsta not true, i am actually old enough to drink

yninsta and it was delicious

carlossainz55 yea, bc there is no alcohol in this

yninsta yes it was, what are u talking about

charles_leclerc no, i ordered you a virgin aperol, that’s why it’s so light coloured

yninsta hey, now i’m sad :(

username27 oh i wish to be her

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga

[deadghosy]

MORE OF TRAILBLAZER!READER PLS PLS PLS PLS PLSSS, WHAT DOES THE ANGELS THINK OF TRAILBLAZER!READER???

HAZBIN HOTEL ANGELS X TRAILBLAZER! READER

prompt: how they viewed you in heaven was something no one excepted an angel like you to act.

I just gotta say. You are a fucking menace.

When you first appeared in heaven as the most beautiful thing with your golden eyes and two pair of wings….you weren’t the most nicest as you were too blunt.

“Is this a flash bang? Why the hell is it so bright here.”

everyone gasped at the H word as if this was kindergarten all over again

*cue you need to leave sound*

Sera had to put a few rules in your face. Literally a whole ass rule book as you sat there with a blank face saying. “Are you effing Fr?” Sera nodded and left leaving you with this HUMONGOUS ASS BOOK THAT REMINDED YOU OF FAIRLY ODD PARENTS

Sera founded you as a troubled youth that needs to see the rules all over again to see the true potential for you to stay in heaven.

Emily didn’t think of you being a troublemaker, she found you quite cool as you explored around heaven having the bravery to speak your mind and not let anything bring you down.

Emily and you got along great and fine as she calls you her little collector as you call her…just Em.

It was a late heavenly night as you stood up from your bed as you did a barrel roll for your balcony as you were starving for some digging. You rummage through the dumpster to find a nice old pearly necklace and a bracelet. “Emily would love this…” you said as you smiled not noticing a blonde haired lady watching you with an asumed smile.

The blonde haired lady from afar found you mysteriously cute and attractive as you roam the streets of heaven. 

ADAM HATES YOUR FUCKING GUTS😭😭

It all started when you was digging in trash. It was basically flirting for you to dig through it. *cue fuck boy face* AND THEN ADAM HAD SNUCK BEHIND YOU READY TO INSULT YOU-

But you kicked him straight in his fucking chin-

That horse ass kick gave him a bruise on his chin for legit 2 weeks

You once blasted music in your apartment…I mean shit it was good music you got from the human world you use to live in. You got so much noise complaints but thanks to Emily, she made it seem like you weren’t causing issues.

Lute has no opinions on you, she just doesn’t have time to even look at you. Even though you sometimes break in her place to eat all her food like the raccoon you are.

One day you actually caused trouble in heaven just because you decided to dig in a lady’s trash bin from outside.

“HEY GET OUT OF MY DARN TRASH BIN YOU RACCOON!” An angel yelled from her window throwing her boom at you as you swung your metal bat at her that you totally didn’t find in the trash nights ago…..

The lady screamed ducking as the bat went back into your grasp like a boomerang. “THATS IT! IM CALLING THE GUARDS!”

And so that was your cue to run as if your life depended on it as you thrown a rotten banana peel you found in your pocket. You still had one in your mouth.

And that’s how your 1 month trial ended because you fought bitches for your trash.

[mbbmz]

Hiii!! I see you’re taking asks! Would you consider doing some Tokyorev boys with a gf who is cool and focused at school and with her hobbies but is kinda oblivious to things outside of that? Like with relationships and when navigating life outside of that. Maybe she doesn’t realize that they like her or something? Maybe it can lead to more? Up to you! I can’t decide who’d be cool for this one though.

Kazutora, Chifuyu, Baji x oblivious! Reader

Chose them because I thought they would be so funny trying to rizz an oblivious reader, anyways hope you enjoy

No warnings, fluff and crack (mostly crack), Kazutora struggling, Chifuyu is kinda cringe ngl, Baji is as oblivious as you are

Kazutora

- He hates you fr (he loves you sm)

- This guy already struggles with realizing his own feelings, he ain’t gonna help you with realizing his

- God help him, he can’t flirt for life and you don’t seem to realize his advances (which aren’t really advances)

- I mean come on he tries hard, really hard, giving you flowers he stole borrowed from an old lady’s garden (I swear he does that)

- I think he struggles with compliments

- put on makeup and poor guy will freeze

- "You… put on makeup…" (meant as a compliment)

Chifuyu

- Tries to pull up moves he saw in shojos but is too nervous to do them correctly

- Tries to to kabedon (the thing when someone pin you against the wall)

- failed miserably, pushed you instead and you almost fell

- he apologized by giving you chocolates (you just saw this as an apology and nothing else)

- i think he’s a bit shy while kindly letting you know he doesn’t see you as a friend

- At one point though he had enough

- "Im not being friendly!" (You thought he meant he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore, god give him patience)

Baji

- Tf you mean love? What’s that? (Baby don’t hurt me)

- Thinks he’s just friendly and protective (he has a crush on you)

- Chifuyu has to put some sense to him by saying scaring off other guys that talk to you isn’t friendly behavior

- Proceeds to take you on a date at the park (Chifuyu told him to do this)

- Stiff because he was bored (I mean, why a park out of all things? There’s nothing to do there)

- MUST have thought you were dating at the end of it

- "What do you mean we’re not dating?" He took you on a date and gave you flowers, how are you two not dating ? (Chifuyu pls help him)

[phosphostar]

Could you make hc for the mouthwashing crew (minus Jdiddy) if they had actually been saved and made it back to earth after the crash? Like what life would be like for them? PLS PLS I JUST WANT A HAPPY ENDING FOR THM😭

LMFAO OF COURSE I CAN!!!!!!

return velocity

what if the crew (anya, daisuke, curly, swansea) made it back after the events of mouthwashing..?

cw: uhhh none really? except for what’s under the cut! tell me if i missed anything <3

𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞

oh my sweet summer boy.

he made it out with uhm

let’s just say a whole bunch of scars

his mom, was obviously worried. horrified. her baby.. hurt?? because of her? her heart is broken

but daisuke’s like “nono it’s okay!! i got a cool scar to show off to the ladies!!”

she just facepalms

i also hc daisuke never really learned how to drive. was too worried about partying. so swansea had to drive him and anya to their respective houses (i’ll get to why curly wasn’t there in a moment)

his parents meet anya and swansea

they are so happy they met swansea. this man taught our son? he’s gonna do great.

until daisuke goes back to yapping about video games. yeah so great.

they heavily thank anya though, for helping with saving daisuke after climbing into the vent. without her, he would’ve certainly died

basically daisuke finds his purpose (keeping cool in situations and dedicating his life to his friends)

𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐚

my poor baby anya

so we all know she struggled getting into medical school prior to the events in mouthwashing

in my mind daisuke’s parents helped pay for her medical school due to her basically saving his life

she goes to medical school, gets her necessary digress, and works in healthcare!!

ABORTS THE BABY.

SHE DOES NOT KEEP THE BABY.

becomes curly and swansea’s primary healthcare worker because she knew them best

really into gardening! helps take her mind off the ptsd of everything that happened

got a restraining order against j-diddy

gets a kitty named towellet. she loves the thing.

𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐚

oh my swansea. no one loves you the way i do.

obviously is so happy to see his wife

and his kids!! can’t forget about them

they’d be worried sick, obviously hearing about the news of the tulpar

he reassures them that he’s safe (obviously), and he’ll be able to retire!!

his wife is obviously excited

i hc his wife is already retired and his kids already have kids

peepaw swansea for the win <33

i also hc he adopted an old bulldog.

they watch soap operas together all day and snore on the couch super loudly

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲

…

surprisingly didn’t die??

also he wasn’t in swansea’s car because uhm.. he was airlifted to the hospital

his recovery is difficult, obviously

he has moments he’s not sure he’ll make it out alive, and wonders if he should even still be breathing

obviously loves when swansea, daisuke, and anya visit. he literally loves it

he was given a multitude of surgeries, including skin graphs from donors, so some parts have darker hair than others, he thinks it’s cool.

daisuke was also a good match for blood i hc!! anya, daisuke, and swansea now regularly donate blood and plasma <3

i hc curly got an emotion support/guide dog names ratchet

sweetest baby around and curly adores him

he has prosthetics for his limbs, and used to completely cover them, a mask on his face and his hood up to complete the look

now he’s more confident in himself, and will happily go without a mask and basketball shorts!!

he has a voice box, but is still getting used to it!

daisuke bleached all his hair and cut it off for curly to make him a wig

he dosent wear it much, but he keeps it in a safe space

he wears a much more comfortable hair system

daisuke made his out of love, not practicality

𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞

company goes belly up.

curly and everyone sues him. even j-diddy.

they all win

what more can i say

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

they all still love hanging out, the 4 of them

goes to anya’s graduation

daisuke constantly draws for all of them

swansea fosters kittens

anya loves to bake treats for all of them

curly loves to spin his shoulder around to cause his prosthetic to spin in a complete circle

…

i’m so sorry

𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲

well.

woah.

he had a hefty trial.

obviously found guilty

got beat up in prison

was released on good behavior 🖕

i don’t think anya ever truly forgave him, or anyone for that matter.

which like good?

but he does visit curly sometimes at his hospital room

and sends the whole crew birthday/holliday cards

(only sends them to anya after his restraining order is done)

got a pitbull named mikey. loves his baby

he’s trying to turn his life around

he’s definitely still not sane

has been admitted to a mental institution involuntarily a few times

is on heavy medication to regulate his mood

got a sleeve tattoo of stars representing the crew (with their permission). i think he has a full sleeve

(thank you @/curly-my-beloved for that idea!!)

definitely got some of daisuke’s doodles tatted on him

a few important dates

he’s trying to be better

still an ass tho

i still don’t like him

[sunlightmurdock]

AETERNA | Four

Three | Masterlist

chapter synopsis: rooster gets a glimpse of what he’s been waiting for.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin. supernatural circus au. smoking; the fic takes place in the 70s and so 70s era things will happen; this fic has mature themes and is intended for adults, minors pls dni. spooky stuff. word count: 8.8k

There is a river on the O’Malley land that comes from way up in the mountains, spilling down into the valley that Atwood was built upon. Across some pastures and some trees, there’s a quiet spot where nobody ever comes — not even the seasoned pros who got their fishing licenses direct from Mr. O’Malley himself.

In the early mornings, Rooster gets antsy. He tosses and turns in the swelter of his camper for a while, counting the rays of gold that pass across the weathered ceiling. He can hear everyone else tossing and turning too. 

He hears Paulie and the guys still up talking from the night before. Waylon snoring wildly from a few rows away. Erin and Tomas feeling each other up in their tents.

It has become his common routine to now give up sleeping once the morning sun crests the roof of the farmhouse up on the hill. On those mornings, he goes walking. 

He came across the spot where the horses are buried. Where the blackberries grow and brambles have started to consume an old chicken coop. Then, he came across the spot by the river.

As he plucks at the strings of his beat-up, old guitar on Monday at noon and tries to pretend that he’s all alone, Rooster regrets ever telling his chosen few about this place.

It had been fun, at first, when the eight of them had taken the walk out there and spent a couple of hours cooling off. But now, he’s stuck with the sound of Jake’s voice while the others play in the water in front of him.  He should be grateful that the rest of camp hadn’t bothered to invite themselves, too.

The next place he finds, he won’t be as quick to share.

Jake basks in the sun, his skin shining gold. He’s laying in his boxer shorts on the smooth rocks that verge the O’Malley’s access to the river, his arms crossed under his face and his eyes closed.

Rooster sits at the edge of the rocky riverbank with sunburnt shoulders and a guitar in his hands, strumming absently at something old. He’s watching his friends swim; Natasha sits on Bob’s shoulders and Callie sits on Rueben’s as they chicken fight in the clear, moving water around them.

The conversation between himself and Jake fell stagnant a few moments ago. His brown eyes track the blue dragonfly as it plays around the reeds that stand tall, out of the water, thinking of what Jake had last said. He can’t let it go.

There isn’t a lot left for them to argue about, these days. Something shiny and new comes along and the habit strikes back up. 

“If she’s got any sense, she’ll stay away.” Rooster sounds much older than he is sometimes, and that’s why all those lonely older ladies love him so much. Jake doesn’t bother to lift his head, but Rooster can hear his smile through his words.

“She’s got a sense of adventure, old man,” Rooster is only a year and a half older, technically. Jake teases him anyway. Rooster plucks at the strings like it doesn’t bother him. “And the sweetest tits. She’ll be seein’ me again.”

Rooster misplucks. 

Jake grins against his arm, a beaming smile from under his sunglasses, content with the idea that he has gotten under Rooster’s skin. 

The sun scorches above them, one of the first days in early May where the sun dares to be this hot. There’s still a light breeze, one that makes the heat just about bearable outdoors, but one that makes the river a straight godsend.

Callie shrieks as she topples off of Rueben’s shoulders and crashes into the cool water, sending droplets of water flying over Rooster’s thighs.

It’s a very unassuming scene, these town newcomers playing at such normality, right as the Redbrook River fishing season picks up. It’s far from secluded, just not frequently stumbled upon this far out.

Jake lays undisturbed, grinning against his arm, as Rooster tries not to picture your tits — more specifically, Jake’s hands on them. It’s bad enough he had to listen to it all. It’s a conflicting thing to have enjoyed so much about what he was hearing, and to have known it was all for Jake’s benefit.

“Keep dreamin’, bud,” Rooster answers right back. Their group of friends continue to splash in the water, long past the days of being fazed by Jake and Rooster’s competitive streak. “She thinks you’re a freak.”

Jake’s lips quirk and he twists his hips and rolls onto his back, draping an arm over his eyes. The sun covers his chest gladly, bathing him in mid-morning light. “I can work with freak. She thinks you’re a stick in the mud with an attitude problem.”

Maybe I am, Rooster acknowledges bitterly.

“If she likes you so much, why’s she chasing me?” Rooster counters.

Jake takes his arm away from his eyes and props his elbows against the flat, warm surface of the rock under him. As he lifts his sunglasses, the light catches on the green of his eyes, twinkling daringly as he looks across at Rooster. His grin stretches wide across his lips, dimpling at just one cheek — practically the only thing not symmetrical about his face.

Rooster stops plucking at the guitar. He fucking hates when Jake smiles at him like that. Smug and daring— and Jake knows how much he hates it. 

He sets the guitar down swiftly and stands up, shaking his head. “Fuck you.” 

They’re joking, but Rooster knows you won’t come chasing after Jake as easily as he would let on. He scared you last night; really scared you. Gave Rooster the impression that you’re smarter than he gave you credit for when you had first come poking around out here, all by yourself.

From the second things felt wrong, you had hauled yourself out of that truck like your hair was on fire. And, you hadn’t left your friend behind.

You had gone home last night, and you had checked that the latch on your bedroom window was locked. He had heard it click from across the fields, but only because he had been listening out for it. 

In theory, he likes you. He’s sure that the two of you would get along just great. But, way out here is no place for a lady.

“You act like it’s my fault your balls haven’t seen action since Roosevelt died.” It’s a slight exaggeration. Rooster’s moral compass sometimes loses its true north, and he winds up rolling out of someone’s bed before sunrise once again. It’s easier when he knows he’ll never see them again. 

Jake tends to be a little more… sentimental, about things. 

Rooster opens his mouth to speak. He’s standing there with water droplets drying like flecks of gold on his freckled shoulders, his curls wet at the nape of his neck and his blue boxer shorts clinging to his thighs and what hangs between them. Jake looks him over, pushing up onto his elbows, venom on his tongue.

The words die in Rooster’s throat as he looks up the riverbank and finds where the faint ringing in his ears is coming from. 

Upstream, nestled in the shade of the pines, Amelia watches them all. He wouldn’t notice her if he wasn’t specifically looking for her, tucked halfway back into the treeline and sitting down, her sketchbook open wide in front of her.

Her hair is wild and messy, like it always is. She must know that Rooster is watching her, but her eyes are on the ones in the water, cold and blue. Too calculated for a girl her age. 

“I’m going into town,” Rooster decides, not speaking to any one of them in particular, but loudly enough for them all to hear. Amelia looks at him. Her pale skin and sharp eyes remind him of a porcelain doll sometimes, and not in a good way. “Don’t need me.”

They will, undoubtedly, need him for something around camp. Everyone around here earns their keep, despite frequently having no place in the world to be but right here. Given that Rooster no longer performs, his duties around camp look a little bit different to everyone else’s.

He breaks up the fights, and man there are plenty. He’s the one who heads into town; he can keep his head down and get what he needs, a polite face and someone not interested in finding new friends. He keeps the customers where they’re supposed to be on show nights. 

Rooster pulls on his jeans and he takes his guitar.

On his walk back to their settlement, through the trees and across the fields, he gets to thinking about how much this sprawling land reminds him of fuzzy childhood memories.

He remembers his parents in shades of blue. The broken porch swing at the front of their house that his mother wasted away in. His parents’ bed with the slight dip in the middle. The car rusting away in the back, while he was still too young to drive it. He remembers everything about his mother and her sickness.

His feet brush across the grass and he thinks about his existence back then. Growing like a weed, always feeling hungry and always being too tall for his jeans. Playing with the neighboring boys in the street out front. Looking at that picture of his father in his service wear on the mantle, wondering what he would look like at that age.

Far beyond it now, Bradley hasn’t much considered his similarities to his parents. In some ways, his life is better than theirs ever was. Hell, he’s seen more of the continental United States than they ever could have dreamed of from their West Virginia trailer. He has time, which they never seemed to have enough of.

That being said, he’s glad they never got to see who he would become.

“Mornin’.” The voice startles him, which is a surprising feat in itself. Jeans unbuttoned and his shirt fisted in the same hand as his guitar, Rooster spins on his heel to look, finding Gus O’Malley himself sitting on the front porch of the Big House that Rooster had been passing by.

“Oh. Good mornin’.” Rooster tries to find it in himself to be polite, like he doesn’t know the kind of man who sits in front of him. He saw the fist-shaped hole in the house’s back door. “Sir.”

Gus is an average-looking man, with thinning hair and sun-reddened skin all over. Sun damage across the tip of his nose and his forehead, wrinkling him beyond his years. “Where are you headed?”

He looks Rooster over with an especially spiteful kind of envy.

“Just back from the river, I cut through the field.” Rooster explains with a quick gesture back over his shoulder.

Gus, red-headed and sitting with his hands on his rounded stomach, gives Rooster a look over.

“Yeah, I saw y’all out that way,” Rooster tips his head slightly, studying the amused shift in Gus’s tone. “That one with the dark hair, she your girlfriend or something?”

A pang of protectiveness strikes him. It’s not just about the fact that Natasha, who had been sunbathing on the large, flat rock that protrudes from the middle of the river, is like a sister to him. It’s that Rooster hadn’t once spotted Gus.

He hadn’t heard the heavy rattle of his strained breathing, or the lazy thudding of his heartbeat. It prickles at him like heat. 

As much as Natasha can care for herself, and take care of men like Gus, Rooster doesn’t want his bulbous nose poking anywhere around their digs. His mouth tips toward an aloof smile, disarming.

“Or somethin’.” He tells Gus with a soft nod, despite having never touched Natasha in his life. Gus smiles back at him approvingly.

“How are you finding it here? — I heard Maggie was putting you to work.” Rooster knows that Gus considers this question to be a test, and that he’s gauging exactly how close Rooster has been getting to his wife.

“Quiet. Nice to have somethin’ to do sometimes.” Is all that he offers up.

Gus’s mind ticks over the answer. He leans back in his rocking chair and nods his head. “Well, you kids stay outta trouble.”

The saying is that trouble tends to follow — and that isn’t quite the case for Rooster and his crew. They usually just happen to be where the trouble is already occurring. Well, that isn’t quite the case either. There’s nothing incidental about those two things.

You too, Rooster dreams of saying aloud. Instead, his eyes spark with a calm and polite smile as he nods his head and takes that as his dismissal. “Yes, sir.”

It plays on his mind as he pads his way back to his camper, images of Gus leering at them from his truck, probably drooling something fierce. Had it been while Rooster was teaching himself that Ray Charles track, or was it while he had been bickering with Jake? — What had he been so distracted about that he hadn’t noticed?

Gus hasn’t been around much since their tenancy began, and Rooster hopes that things will be that way for the majority of the summer.

His trip into town requires more clothes than are generally needed around camp. Shoes, for one, are a must, and shirts that are actually buttoned and paired with a tidy undershirt are appreciated too. He combs some tacky, woodsy-smelling pomade through the sides of his hair to tame the air dried, river-mussed mop of curls.

Perfectly presentable to go into town and hang fliers all afternoon. He could have taken Jake and Javy with him, maybe some of the others, cut his task load in half. But the alone time is worth the hundred or so extra papers.

As some kind of sick testament to the joke that Rooster will never really be rid of Jake, Elvis on the radio accompanies him into town. 

He hears you before he sees you. Smelling of daisies and cheap cigarettes and a fresh pack of gum, he twists his neck around at the stop sign and starts to wonder if he’s losing it. It’s not until the truck comes around the bend that he finds you.

Perched on the back steps of a large, brown-stoned building with a cigarette in your hand and a worried little frown plastering your face. Your hair is scraped all the way back, tucked into a neat updo, and you’re wearing a candy-striped tunic with white knee socks and Keds. Perfectly presentable.

It makes him think of the first day that he saw you, on the seats of that truck on all fours and waving at him in those little shorts.

“Maybe not branded,” You muse, letting your head fall back against the wall behind you while Olive studies the new baby blue colour on her nails. “Is there another word for when someone burns a shape into your skin?”

You don’t notice the green pickup truck pull past and head for town as you fret to Olive. It’s been a while since you had a man to complain about, but this isn’t your usual kind of conundrum. 

She smirks. “Maybe it’s something freaky-deaky.”

The back-and-forth repertoire thing that brought the two of you together fails today. The witty remark dies on your tongue with a wistful sigh. You wish you could laugh with her. He laughed it off pretty easily, waved you goodnight like nothing had happened. 

It just doesn’t… feel right. There’s an unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach that you just can’t shake. “D’you think it’s like a cult thing?”

That’s no joke. You hear the stories about the hippies still hanging out in the countrysides, girls going missing across the country. Mansonites that didn’t wind up on death row. 

Your folks let you get away with a lot, but joining a cult might push the boat out a little.

Olive doesn’t seem half as fazed. The miserable guy who named himself after the least impressive animal on the farm hadn’t seemed too worrying to her, beyond his attitude. “His hair was short. Guys with crew cuts aren’t in cults.”

She’s still kidding. The comment wasn’t meant to reassure, and it doesn’t.

“Yeah.” You guess, knees tucked up to your chest as you mull over the idea. He looked tidy. Smelled good. His hair was certainly a little longer than a crew cut. Rooster’s hair was longer again. Neither of them looked particularly unkempt — Jake had smelled like a piney, masculine cologne. 

Cultists surely didn’t take such a pride in their hygiene.

Now, Olive knows not to joke with you too much. She had seen the dazed way you had stumbled back into the bar, colorless and rendered silent. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out that whatever went down in the cab of that truck wasn’t a joking matter.

She just hadn’t expected it to be so strange.

You hadn’t been expecting him to let you go. Surely if he was so dangerous, he wouldn’t have helped you back into your shirt. Maybe you’d had too much to drink, but you don’t remember the last thing he said to you.

Something along the lines of taking care of yourself, making sure you got home alright. Entirely unthreatening, as he had remained in the cab to buckle his belt and wait out his boner, you guess.

“Why didn’t you just ask him what it was?” She frowns at you, plucking her cigarette from her lips and stubbing it out on the wall. Break time is over and soon Conrad will come looking, 

You don’t remember that either. 

You must have made such a fool of yourself scrambling out from under him and offering no explanation as to why his tattoo gave you the jeebies so bad. But then, he hadn’t exactly offered to settle you about it.

Your nose wrinkles as you straighten out your dress and follow your best friend back inside. 

The Pines has this perpetual kind of dust smell. Olive joked once that it was something to do with all the time running out around here. It’s a joke that sticks with you sometimes when those years of dust are making your sinuses itch.

Faded yellow walls and deep blue carpet. Stock-image paintings on the walls. It’s an okay place to send your parents, in the grand scheme of things.

Your mind is far, far from the Pines today. Out past Airport Road, following that narrow winding road up the O’Malley driveway. You think of the two strange, strange men who live out there now.

“It could’ve been really traumatic.” There can’t be a lot of ways that someone winds up with a cross branded into their skin that aren’t traumatic. Olive doesn’t think that way. She gets her answers when she wants them. She would have asked him then and there. She’s braver than you, like that.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t want him asking about Wes.” Olive sometimes speaks without thinking. His name hits like a ricochet, which is a strange thing. You spent your first seventeen years hearing it every day. It’s a shame that now his name is tainted— it will always bring sorrow.

You’ll never scream it when he’s taunting you again, never again write a gift tag addressed to him. You swallow. You almost have to shake your head to bring you back to what the original conversation had been about— not your big brother.

“No.” You agree. Atwood knows what happened to Wesley. The story spread like wildfire that late July. In a way, you’re glad that it had — you hadn’t ever had to explain a thing for yourself because everyone already knew.

She’s back on the topic of Jake quickly. “So, you think you’ll see him again?” 

You linger in the hallway as she knocks on to Mrs. Palmer’s bedroom door. “Didn’t give him my number.” 

“But you know where he is.”

“Yeah,” You mull over the idea. Seems a little pathetic to drag yourself all the way out to the O’Malley farm for the third time this week. Not very ‘California’ of you to spend your time stressing over some Carnies. “I dunno.”

“Maybe it’s just a war thing.” She considers, closing the door behind her and leaving Mrs. Palmer with her morning meds. You watch Mrs. Palmer’s blue rinse disappear behind the wood, her head turned toward the window. “He was over there, probably.”

“Probably.” You agree. It’s hard to find a guy born before ‘55 that doesn’t have a thigh full of shrapnel or a jagged scar somewhere he can’t hide. But you’ve never seen anyone with a wound like Jake’s.

Teetering on the verge of hidden and displayed. He covered it up, technically, with the ink and the necklace — but he wears both on top like a badge of honour. You just can’t shake the grin on his face when he noticed that you had noticed.

Like he was excited by it.

Rooster, three blocks away, feels eyes on him from before the heel of his boot first hits the sidewalk. It’s nothing too new for him. These small towns are always filled with people who like to stare, and people who like to ask questions. 

Jake’s the entertainer of the bunch, not him. 

He’s got his to-do list crumpled up in the pocket of his Lee’s and that’s all he’s here for.

Hanging fliers always comes last. He has found that townsfolk don’t generally take too well to strangers coming and sticking up what they consider to be trash all over their streets. First, comes the library to get those books that’ll keep Amelia from getting bored. 

The door opens with a jingle, the bell above it swinging wildly to alert the aging, half-deaf librarian of the stranger in his midst. Rooster’s boots are silent across the worn carpet, heading for the fiction section. 

“Afternoon.” He nods towards the staring librarian as he passes him by, earning himself a sound of acknowledgement at least.

Amelia reads a lot, and she passes her books around camp once she’s done. She must have library fees all across the Continental US by now, but they keep her put— out of trouble. 

She’s the youngest of their settlement. Maverick’s daughter when the cops come asking, just the kid he had found on the side of the road when they don’t. She’s not like the rest of them. Rooster knows that she likes him, she finds him funny and he doesn’t treat her like a baby — but he steers clear of her when he can.

She’s too curious for her own good. That’s landed them in trouble before. Trespassing seems to be in her nature, and Maverick usually has better things to do than to keep the twelve-year-old occupied. Their crew doesn’t exactly roll with too many babysitters, either.

In spite of all of that, she’s a good contortionist. Rooster watches every weekend as people in the audience gasp and lurch away from the way her joints bend and pop at will. They don’t even notice, half the time, that she’s the same grinning kid who does the aerial tricks in the first quarter.

She’s been good at making people squirm for as long as he’s known her.

“Could I check out these three, please?” He sets down the three dust-covered novels, broken spines and peeling covers included, and looks the gentleman in the eye. 

“You’re into thrillers.” The man comments, picking up the top book from the small pile and inspecting it. Rooster doesn’t care to make conversation, or to correct him. He smiles and nods like that’s the case. “I’m not going to ask if you’ve got a library card with us, because I know you don’t. Are you new to town?”

Rooster bites back a sigh.

He smiles something polite, albeit tight-lipped. “Yeah. Working just outside of town, got a lotta downtime during the day. You need my name first?”

Bradley taps on the counter as the man takes down some vague details, asking his small-talk questions each step of the way. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Atwood’s desolate Main Street, where the afternoon heat has driven people back inside.

The whirring fan behind the librarian's head kicks out more dust and lint than it does cool air, growling in complaint with each circle of the fan blades. 

Perspiration beads at his weathered, wrinkled skin. The long arm on his smudged watch face tells Rooster that the seconds are ticking on as normal, even though everything here feels so much slower.

He’s grateful for the heat because at least it means fresh air; leaving the librarian behind with another abrupt jingle of the bell above the door. 

With barely enough time to walk back to his truck, Rooster realizes that you’re heading his way. Thoughts are buzzing around your head like radio chatter, almost enough to make him wince. He doesn’t even realize you aren’t alone until he catches the scent of Old Spice walking next to you.

He lifts the tailgate and swings it shut with a bang. You notice him as he turns his head. Walking in your cute candy-striper uniform with your bag on your shoulder and a guy at your side.

He almost smiles. This wouldn’t be the first time that Jake’s kissed a girl with a boyfriend and suffered the consequences. But, he knows better than to assume. Plus, the step that you take away from the boy at your side is instinctual.

Barely even a conscious decision, but Rooster sees it and understands what you’re telling him. The blond in the coveralls at your side is not your boyfriend. 

In no mood for a conversation, or to upset the poor kid who probably thinks he’s got a chance with you, Rooster opts to give you the same polite nod he had wanted to offer everyone else that has crossed his path today, and turns his back. He walks around to the cab and flings open the glovebox, grabbing the red fliers. 

Shoes tapping delicately across the pavement. Perspiration and Old Spice beading along the back of your friend’s neck. The thoughts whirring around that pretty little head as you sneak closer. You’re leaning against the truck when he straightens back up, one elbow popped against the side and your brows furrowed through the glaring sunlight. 

Rooster gives you the benefit of pretending that you got the jump on him.

“Hi.” It’s a greeting by nature, but there’s something accusatory to your tone that tells him, yet again, he seems to be being held responsible for something Jake did. 

“Afternoon.” Rooster answers you, lifting his head to check on the sulking guy about a foot behind you, watching this exchange with his hands in his pockets. His train of thought isn’t half as pissed off as it could be.

“Are you by yourself?” You ask him, subconsciously reaching back to feel for your updo, smoothing back some humidity-stoked stray hairs.

“Jake’s a big boy, I figured he could watch himself for one day.” He replies, not sounding exactly kind in the way he refers to his buddy. 

Convenient for you at least, to be able to corner an inside source. The thought does cross your mind that maybe Jake is being punished in some way for his behavior last night, kept at their camp like a grounded kid.

“So, who’s watching you?” You poke at him, trying to get a feel for the type of mood he might be in today.

He turns his head and looks at you, his expression serious. Maybe it’s the look on your face, or maybe it’s that he likes you, but his hardened expression cracks and he breaks a smile.

“Looks like that would be you, doesn’t it?” He replies, tilting his head to the side, flashing you his stack of papers. “It’s gonna get pretty lame, just warnin’ ya.”

You turn your head and shoot a glance back at where Billy stands a couple of feet back. His hands are balled into the pockets of his overalls and he might as well be tapping his damn foot at you, but he just sulks instead. 

Rooster had this look on his face when you’d left last night, just this knowing expression— a real ‘I told you so’ kind of thing. He’s more of a straight shooter than his buddy is, maybe you would get some real answers out of him.

“Well, you need some help?” 

She thinks you’re a stick in the mud with an attitude problem, and yet, here you are offering to traipse all over town with him sticking these things up. Rooster looks over the top of your head, glancing back at your friend.

As much as he would get a kick out of watching you hop into the truck and stick with him, Rooster knows better. He’s already shaking his head before he speaks, certain. There’s a place for you, and it’s not with a guy like him — or a guy like Jake, for that matter.

“No, you two look like you have plans and I’m starting way out by the Shop’N’Save. I’ve got this.” He shakes the papers once and leans back against the door of the truck. He isn’t expecting you to give up easy, but he isn’t expecting you to step around him and grab the handle either.

You’ve already made your mind up. “Well, I actually wanted to talk to you, so y’know— two birds, one stone and stuff.” 

Rooster stands up and watches with furrowed brows as you pull the door open and step up into the cab. Then, he looks toward your friend. Your forearm grazes at Bradley’s, your skin against his as he stares ahead. 

Billy. Closer to a family member to you than a boyfriend with the tepid attitude you’ve got towards him. There’s a loyalty and affection there that Rooster would be grateful for if the roles were reversed.

Rooster looks between you, settling down onto the tan leather seat, and Billy, blue eyes are narrowed and he looking just about ready to rush him. Rooster catches the handle of the door. He considers telling you to get out. He should.

You hit him with an expectant raise of your eyebrows, and crane your neck back to look at Billy. “I’ll call you later. Take Lori out on that date!”

Billy’s mouth opens and closes. Rooster presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, his decision made for him. Even if he’s your excuse, he’s not going to make you get back out and walk home with the kid when you’re so clearly trying to ditch him. It’s just not gentlemanly.

Your mouth twitches, equally surprised at his compliance as Rooster swings the door to the truck shut with a resigned smile, walking around to his side without much acknowledging your friend at all. You’re watching Billy through the side mirror as Rooster starts the grumbling ignition. 

“He’d follow me around forever if I let him.” You mumble quietly. Then, it’s like you remember yourself. You shake your head and sigh. “That sounds conceited, and I don’t mean it like that, but girls ask him out, y’know and — he just— he’d rather pick me up from work and sit in the same diner we’ve always sat in.”

There’s quiet on the other side of the cab, Billy is already walking away in the rearview mirror. You turn your head and he’s watching you, one hand on the wheel and the other out of the window. 

“This is what you wanted to talk to me about?” He prompts you, knees spread and his thighs straining against the blue denim, fingers drumming against the exterior of the door. He cocks an eyebrow at you, waiting for your response.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, you’re sitting in the cab of this truck and your mouth is watering. But, you’ve got better sense this time.

“Okay, fine. Look, I want you to give me a straight answer,” You turn in the seat, tucking one knee under you and creasing your features sternly. “About what’s up with you guys. Did Jake say anything after last night?”

He considers relaying the comment about your tits, just to further ruin Jake’s chances, but he plays dumb.

“No, but I figured you didn’t have the best time when you came running back in like that.” Rooster shrugs.

“He just gave me the jeebies,” You admit, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. Your tone is light but your skin is prickled like you’ve somehow found a chill on this warm summer afternoon.  “Like that tattoo on his neck, it’s like a scar, right?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” You’re studying him from your side of the bench, and you’re good at it, looking for the smallest little tell. Eyes on the road, he gives you nothing but a shrug. “The scar’s what freaked you out?”

“No, like — it’s weird. How’d you end up in a circus? — Are you on the run or something?”

His mouth twitches. He turns his face toward the window, smiling at the scenery rather than at your face, shaking his head all the while. 

“Maybe some folks just get their kicks juggling,” He taunts you with a shrug of his broad shoulders, craning his neck as he turns off of Main and toward Third. “You don’t hear me questioning your career choices.”

“Okay, fine,” You’ve seen Jake drop an entire marquee into stunned silence with his act, he’s undeniably good at what he does. You swipe through the fliers absently. “I just— I got this weird feeling from Jake last night.”

Clearly today, he’s in the mood to play. He quirks one eyebrow and smiles out at the road ahead. “Yeah, they usually tell you all about that feeling in Health Class, I think.”

You swing out a hand and smack at his arm, scoffing out a distinctly unimpressed and unladylike sound. “Shut up! I’m not talking about that, I’m talking… like that tattoo on his neck? — Was that— Was it a burn? — What was that?”

He pulls over to the side of the road coolly, killing the engine and looking across at you like you’re asking him to explain the intricacies of geometry. The Shop’N’Save is dead empty this time of day, feels like you’re the only thing around for miles. He reaches for the door handle and leans back, itching for some space, needing some fresh air.

“Means that Jake’s an idiot who’ll do just about anything on a bet.” He answers as bluntly as one can, taking the fliers from the middle of the seat and the shiny new staple gun from beside them. “He wasn’t gonna hurt you.”

You’re hot on his heels as he steps out of the truck and heads for the telephone pole, taking the fliers as you duck around him.

“I figured that much.” There’s a bite to your tone as you take the page and hold it up against the wooden pole, narrowing your eyes at him. He lifts his brows, unimpressed but amused. “I mean, I’m standing here, aren’t I?” 

Standing on a stretch of road that you’ve driven by a thousand times but never once walked down, the breeze catches your skin and makes your white and pink striped skirt blow around your thighs. His gaze flickers between your face and your hand on the pole with a beat. 

His boot tucks itself between your tidy white sneakers, his shoulders seeming to stretch wider as he steps up close. 

He places his hand over yours and tugs it upwards, readjusting the flier to a height that he deems appropriate. Pinning your hand with his palm, he lifts his other hand and strikes a staple into the wood.

“Call it baggage. Things with us tend to get complicated,” He nails another staple into the other side of the flier, and turns to look at your face, a grin ghosting at his lips. “Hell, why don’t you put that kid you were with out of his misery and go out with him?”

As you open your mouth to argue back, he drops your hand back down to your side with a squeeze and takes a look towards the two buildings to his left. Anything to cut this conversation short.

He jerks his head toward the stores behind him. “Feel like helping a guy out and asking to stick these in their windows?”

“Fine.” You thought he was a lot cuter when you couldn’t hear what he was saying that day out on Airport Road. He leans back against the door and watches you walk inside in your uniform, thinking to himself that you’re plenty cute right now.

Just like he had expected, both the gas station and the liquor store allow you to hang the fliers without so much as a question about why. Rooster wouldn’t have gotten the same treatment. 

He lifts his fingers and waves them at you as you cross the small parking lot back towards him.

“Let’s go, unless you want to be out here all day.” You hear him laugh to himself as you walk around the truck and pull yourself into the passenger side. He fixes his smile, knowing that it’s just likely to provoke you. 

As much as he’d rather not have you in his passenger seat, you’re useful when it comes to navigation. He wouldn’t have even tried half of the side streets that you point him down. He humors your questions for two hours, giving you barely there answers as the beat-up, old truck rattles down oak-lined streets. 

The afternoon sun fades from golden to gray somewhere between Sixth and Elm. The sky hangs low, darkening, a covering of dark clouds threatening a downpour. 

By the park, Bradley pulls over and hops out with a stack of fliers, offering you little more than the instruction to, “Stay there.”

He slaps the red papers up where he can, smoothing the papers out with his palm and working them into wooden surfaces with the staple gun. You are left with the rather cushy job of sitting pretty in the cab, while he does the hard work.

A couple of kids whizz past on their bikes, calling out loudly as they cycle home. Atwood is the kind of place where mothers are more than fine with saying goodbye to their children after breakfast and not seeing them again until sundown in the summers.

While following them by, you catch sight of a glinting metal at your feet. Just to check, you feel at your earlobe. Sure enough, your earring sits in the footwell.

As the driver’s side door creaks open, Rooster stands on the sidewalk and frowns at the way you have folded yourself downwards and are reaching for something under the seat. His brows knit together as you strain uncomfortably.

“You okay down there?” He prompts.

You huff, still struggling. “My earring. I hit it all the way under the seat when I was trying to grab it— I must’ve left it last-“

Last night. When you were sprawled across the bench with Jake’s tongue in your mouth. Rooster smiles at the way you stop mid-sentence, like that’s going to save his feelings. Like he hadn’t stood inside and listened to every last part of it. 

“Got it!” You pop back up, holding the dainty thing between your fingers and smiling at him. It stretches across your cheeks and your eyes glint with delight. The afternoon sun seems to brighten with you, despite the clouds rolling in from the east. 

His eyes widen with a dramatism that tells you you’re being mocked. “Thank god.” 

Caught somewhere between shooting him a glare and laughing, your face settles into a reticent smile as you fold your arms over your chest. “You’re a jackass, you know that?”

“So I’m told.” He agrees, settling back into the driver’s seat as the rain clouds decide to make good on their promise. Clicking his tongue, he sits back in his seat and glances across at the very much paper fliers he had just hung. “You hungry?”

“Hungry? Mm, a bit,” You shrug your shoulders, he nods, the answer spurring him into action as he heads back towards town. “Does that make this a date?”

He huffs out a small chuckle, which wounds your ego more than you would like to admit, reaching across your body to tug open the glovebox. “Depends if you’re as scared of me as you are of Jake, doesn’t it?”

Now, that’s the type of comment that doesn’t deserve an answer. You’re not afraid of him. He’s too honest to be frightening. Raw and witty, maybe a little grumpy, but man — that smile is one worth working for. You like him, a lot.

Your lovey-dovey thoughts come to a sudden stop as you track his hand. More aptly, you track what his hand nudges out of the way.

Unfazed, Rooster reaches past the box of Trojans and fishes, instead, for cigarettes. He plucks one from the pack and sets it between his teeth, then looks across at you. Watching him with an unimpressed expression that’s halfway to being a full-blown scowl. 

He smiles around the cigarette.

“What? — Did you forget how that earring wound up on the floor?” He taunts you, reaching back across with little regard for your personal space, in search of a lighter. 

You knock his hand out of the way and hand him the silver flint-wheel lighter from your own pocket. “It’s a big box, is all.” 

He steadies the wheel with his knee, cupping his hands around the flame to ignite his cigarette, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not my truck.” 

“Hm.” 

He looks across at you, one brow quirked, and a smile of disbelief toying around the cigarette.

“I’m not saying anything,” You answer, defending yourself with little conviction, arms still folded over your chest. “Just didn’t realize this passenger seat was such a tourist spot.”

He coughs out a laugh around his cigarette, his cheeks warm and crinkling around his endlessly deep brown eyes. His freckles are darker under the gray clouds, dotting his nose. He reaches across the cab and swats at your arm as you had gone for his.

You press your tongue into your cheek; keeping yourself from beaming as his hand comes up and covers your mouth, smelling of the cologne on his wrist and the cigarette he had held. 

“Cool it, kid — that spot’s all yours,” He’s still laughing as he talks to you, glancing across at you. Blinking at him with his hand settled across your jaw, the gold ring on his pinkie finger sitting against your chin. He pulls it back to hold his cig, his touch leaving you longing. “Now, what do you want to eat? — I’m buying.”

You crane your neck to look at the brown leather watch on his wrist, already knowing that you’re going to be in the weeds for missing dinner back home. Damage already done, you decide to introduce him to Atwood’s finest— the shitty little diner owned by Billy’s uncle that has had the same shitty menu for thirty years. 

It’s the perfect spot, in a hometown kind of way.

You hold your head a little higher than usual as you stroll through the place.

There are a couple of girls who work at Louie’s that will just die when they see you with the tall stranger, and you enjoy that just a little. Rooster enjoys it a little, too.

He’s busy looking around at the decor as he slides into the wooden booth, not exactly critical of it but not impressed either. He shucks a hand through his dampened curls and settles down into the seat, spreading his knees and kicking one of his feet between yours under the table.

“That’s the bridge out by us, right?” He asks, pointing to one of the paintings on the wall. Just another oil canvas in a dusty frame that you’ve never taken much time to critique. You purse your lips as you study it.

“Yeah, you’re right,” You come to realize, glancing back at him. “You’ve been exploring out there?”

He sits back a bit, as a tall brunette comes to fill your water glasses, brown eyes on you and a small smile on his mouth. “Yeah, a little. It’s quiet out there.”

“Lonely?” You prompt, lips stretching into an amused grin. Man, it almost gets him again. He bites at the inside of his cheek to keep from matching your look, rolling his eyes as he looks back towards the painting.

“Get real.” He mutters.

He watches you resting your chin on your palm and batting your eyelashes and simply shakes his head.

“This isn’t a date, by the way,” He’s cool as can be, staring back at you like you hadn’t seen the look in his eyes when you had him laughing. “You did me a favor, so this is me bein’ nice.”

“Well,” You hum, tapping your fingers along the edge of your glass, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Louie’s isn’t exactly a busy spot at the best of times, but especially not on a Monday night. It’s just the two of you, the waitress who was rude to you in the playground all those years ago, and maybe a couple of line cooks in the back. 

The entire place is wood-paneled three quarters of the way up the wall, with green paint covering the rest. There are family photos and mass-produced paintings on the walls, and dust on the lampshades. Roy Orbison playing on the jukebox. A candle in a glass jar lit on the table between you.

He pays attention as you recite your usual order, finding the items on the menu as you go. Then, probably to make this thing easy and over sooner, he decides he’ll just take the same. 

Begrudgingly, he has to admit that your choice and your order is better than he had been expecting. Good, even. It feels good, being out and sitting across from a pretty girl, picking at fries that are a little too salty, like nothing had ever happened. Trying not to laugh too hard at her jokes, even when his lips keep twitching around the straw of his ice-cold Coke. It has been a long time. 

It’s almost disappointing to settle the check, and to have to see you walking ahead of him back to the truck. The rain has stopped and the air is grassy and piney, the sky a fading lilac, casting shades of blue across your skin. 

Cooler breeze passes you by, bristling at your skin just enough to make you appreciate the fading heat of earlier that day.

He starts by turning up the radio, tires rolling through a deep, mud-splattered puddle as he pulls out of the parking lot. You should feel exhausted after being at the Pines from the crack of dawn, but he’s got your stomach alight. Tapping his foot to the drum beat absently, one hand on the wheel, his jaw set and his shoulders straight. 

“Which way?” Like he couldn’t piece it together. You were walking home today, you’d hightailed it to the right after leaving Dutch’s last night. It would take him minutes to find his way to your front door.

Stretching your arms above your head, you sigh and settle back against the door. “Next left and then right at the lights.”

He was right. The guesses in his head would have led him to the Post Office near the park, and then he spots that station wagon in the driveway. He lets you direct him to the right house anyway.

Sturdy car in the driveway, flower boxes on every window, and the greenest lawn on the street. It looks like a nice place to have grown up. If he had grown up in a place like this, he wouldn’t be itching to leave half as badly as you are.

He looks back to you, watching him and trying to figure out how to route the conversation back to what had happened in that dark parking lot last night.

“Thanks for helping me out today.” The plain white fabric of his t-shirt stretches around his arm as he cards his fingers through his curls. 

You bite at the inside of your cheek. Fingers skimming over the stitching in the seats as you try to figure out your next move. Late already, he’s in no hurry. 

“I guess I’ll see you Friday.” You decide.

His brows draw together. “Friday?”

You smile, pointing down at the significantly smaller stack of red papers now between the two of you. “Uh-huh. Friday at eight.”

Friday at eight. You’ll stroll through those lit arches, looking for him. His brows knit a bit, but he doesn’t tell you to stay away, that’s not in the rules. 

He flattens his mouth a little, almost a smile but not the same kind where his eyes had lit up so bright.

“Right,” He nods. “Friday.”

You smile at him, reaching across and giving his arm a quick squeeze before you turn and hop down from the truck.

If this was a date, he would walk you to your door and sneak a kiss before your overprotective mother found an excuse to come to the door and introduce herself to him, which is when he would be charming enough to impress her but cool enough not to embarrass you. 

Your heartbeat ticks steadily in your chest. You’re already thinking about what you’ll wear on Friday night— whether you’ll bring Olive, or Georgie— absolutely not Billy. He watches you climb the porch steps and let yourself in through the creaking, blue door with the glass pane in the middle, not stopping to look back at him because you’re worried that your parents will notice it was a stranger who brought you home. Your mother greets you from the kitchen.

His mouth dries as he pulls away from the curb.

He could be like Jake, and let himself enjoy the feeling. Pretend that he hasn’t done the things he has, pretend that he hasn’t sat and listened to all the thoughts you have about him. 

He could pretend that he really doesn’t want to see you at the show this weekend.

But, the sun has already set on his day of normalcy. He turns the sound dial, tapping his foot to the only radio frequency that doesn’t drop out on the backroads out of town, windows down and the scent of fresh-cut, wet grass and new deliveries of hay carried by the evening breeze.

Fingers draped loosely around the cracked leather of the wheel, shooting the occasional glance over to the empty passenger seat. 

Lilac skies casting shadows across the rolling fields all the way out of town. 

It’s forty minutes before the truck pulls onto that gravel driveway with a growingly familiar crunch. He stops it in his spot by Jake’s trailer and steps out onto the mulchy, wet grass, following the sounds of conversation until he gets to the yellow RV. 

The yellow RV houses Natasha, Bob and more recently Mickey — but that’s just until he apologizes to Reueben. Most nights, that’s where you can find the guys. It’s the furthest vehicle on the row, and Natasha always lays out rugs and the camping furniture that’ll fit in the storage space.

Like he knew he would, he finds his friends busied with a game of poker, settled into the chairs they could scrounge up, illuminated by a couple of camping torches.

Jake’s tall tale about one of their times back on the West Coast falls flat, trailing off until it stops all together. He watches Rooster cross the lot, headed right for them.

Wordless, Rooster greets his friends with a cool smile as he steps right by them and plants himself into a wooden chair at the far side of the circle.

“You were gone a while.” It’s Javy that comments first, meaning well, not doing the best job at hiding his cards as Natasha studies them shamelessly from his side.

“Yeah.” Rooster agrees, sitting forwards as Callie kicks her legs up and stretches them across his. “Deal me in.” 

Jake’s brows draw together, their round seemingly dead in the water as Bob starts to collect the cards back in. He studies Rooster through the warm light of the lantern, narrowing his eyes just a bit.

“You want to play?” Jake scoffs.

Rooster rarely plays with them. He usually makes a point of keeping to himself, when they’re all together. He likes Natasha, and he’ll keep her company, when he’s not with Maverick. Everyone knows that he likes to pretend that he’s stuck with Jake, rather than accompanying him by choice.

Rooster’s mouth twitches, reaching out and letting Bob set the cards in his hand, meeting Jake’s gaze for the first time since he sauntered past him and sat down.

“Scared you’ll lose?”

…

NEXT CHAPTER

TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKED

tags: @sunflowercharlie13 @spinning-away @eloquentdreamer-blog1@a-reader-and-a-writer@breezyweazybeezy@mel119g@hersuitisbanana@one-sweet-gubler@atarmychick007@ximehs@nnatel@topherwrites@seitmai@yepyeahuhhuh@cherrycola27@ohtobeleah@roosterbruiser

[crazylittlejester]

hello. i have come to the realization that you also think Warriors has a bunch of sisters.

as someone who is a firm supporter of this headcanon, I want to hear your thoughts because it's such a fun idea.

i mean. if you'll thoughts. pls thoughts.🙏

HELLO!!

That man has the energy of someone who was raised by a bunch of women /pos he has sisters, SEVERAL of them, and I will die on this hill

I headcanon he’s like, the dead center middle child with three older sisters (if you count Linkle being his slightly older twin as an older sister) and three younger ones, and he’s the only boy. I know everyone keeps saying Wars has that “Eldest Daughter Trauma” energy and yes i see it however i like the idea that he had older sisters and a mom around when he was growing up. he’s got plenty of trauma in every other aspect of his life let him have this 😭/j (i do headcanon his dad is dead tho. rip Wars, you grew up without a father-)

Like yes he’s an older brother, he’s got that chronic older brother disease bless his heart, but hear me out and consider: Little Wars who had the love and support of older siblings and who tries to be like them every time he tries to comfort any of the chain. They’re all jealous of what a soothing presence Wars has and they’re all like “What would Wars do?” when they’re out of their element and don’t know what to do, but WARS is like “What would my older sister do-”

He was definitely pretty close with them before he left for the army, and though I headcanon he hasn’t physically gone back to see them since he’s definitely sent them letters and it makes him really happy to hear back because at the end of the day he’s the little brother who gets excited to talk to his older sisters because he STILL thinks theyre so cool and awesome (theyre a few years older than he is) and he’s glad they’re all finally old enough that they aren’t just looking at him and seeing stupid baby brother (they’re VERY proud of him, and they miss him a lot)

Also I love the idea that somewhere out there in a village on the edge of Hyrule kingdom is at LEAST one lady who every time someone mentions the hero of hyrule goes “you mean that dork ass little brother of mine? oh no, I’m VERY proud of him, but that doesn’t erase the time he threw a tantrum in the middle of the kitchen at age three because he was bored and I didn’t want to play with him. Absolute brat that one” or “Hero of hyrule? Little nerd got himself locked in the bathroom once when he was two and we couldn’t unlock the door from the outside and his dumb ass couldn’t figure out how to undo what he did so we had to break the door down to get him out. Very glad to hear he’s gotten at least a little smarter”

his younger sisters all definitely miss him too, so does his mom because i WILL give that man a living mother if its the last thing i do he’s EARNED it 😭

Plus I think it’s more tragic that his family (except his dad) IS alive but he feels like he can’t go home because he’s Different now and he’s been ruined, and that if he goes home it won’t be the same and his family won’t be able to love him for who he is now and they’ll grieve instead the boy who went off to war so he keeps himself away out of fear (he’s wrong and they want him back more than anything)

[jampookie]

🎸⚡ Max Trio Headcanons Time!!!! Yay!!!!

IF YOU HAVE ANY OF YOUR OWN PLSSSSS TELL ME OMGOMG

Jaime:

- SHE DATED MARIA IN MIDDLE SCHOOL: IDC. THEYRE MIDDLE SCHOOL EXES what evidence do I have?? uhhh,,,.......none but i pinky promise they are.

- She's Chinese and Freeeench!!! : Chinese from her Mom and French from her Dad. She knows both languages fairly well and her favorite hobby is to say random things to Max in them that he will never understand (and loses his mind over~)

- She used to have medium length hair but cut it in freshman year: New Year New (Jai)Me!!!

- This is even more random than the Maria one but I hc her to be siblings with the spinoff ep 2 nurse: hear me out okay i just.........idk i think it's probably the lack of max trio content that's getting to my mind.

and it's just nurse lady has the same color palette as jaime ssss...sso...so....WHATEVER

- ⬆️ Adding to thisssss:

When she was a kid her sis was goth (liek as a teen? 10 year age gap between them im guessing) and mini 5 year old Jaime always felt INSPIRED🪄🪄 so she got alot of practice as a kid by stealing makeup hehehe and now she has a PhD in dressing goth! huzzah!

...most of her clothes are hand me downs but atleast she got a starter pack of some sorts 😾

- Whenever she's bored she practices her makeup-ing on Damien,: Since he can actually sit still. She tried it on Max but he either fell off the chair or subconsciously rubbed it all off when his face got itchy....whoops.

- She playssss....keyboard 🎹! I think! And she probably sings sometimes too. Lalalala 🎤🎤

- After Ep 11 events she made pretty good friends with Jake!!!:

Fun Scenario - One day Jaime just so happened to not have makeup on so she was just walking around with her natural BEAUTAY but Jake didn't recognize her like that so he released a quite high pitched SHRIEK and fell backwards thinking she was someone else. They were both quite confused.

- DAMIEN AND MAX CALL HER 'JAY' AS A NICKNAME: Change my mind😈😈😡🤑

- She's not very good at facial expressions:

If she's having the time of her life she'll slightly smile. If she fell off a cliff and lost a few limbs she might slightly pout. The other 99.99% of the times in her life are just a deadpan expression, 😐.

Max:

- MAAAAAAX MY MAIN MAN!!!!!: Before I FULLY start up abt him I just wanna blab a lil on how I think him and Jaime met.

In either Freshmen or MS (I can't decide) Jaime was just listening to music in art class minding her own business till a red and orange gremlin invited himself into her personal space. "WHAT THE HELL DUDE YOU LISTEN TO (certain cool band) TOO!?!? WHAAAAT!?!?" shrieked the gremlin, unaware and uncaring of the other 30 people in the room.

And there you go. Jaime Max friendship. Huzzah!

- Half Brazilian Half Mexican!!: Mexican from his Mom so he knows his Spanissssh!!! I've never thought about Max's dad so lets say he's fatherless. Good for him.

⬆️ - ONTO THIS: I also headcanon Drew as half Mexican (and half Filipino if anyones interested) so so so so SO me thinks Drew and Max are cousins! Teehee!

They used to get along. They fell out. Or the two sides of the family fell out? Can't decide but I will agree with any theory that suggest DRAX ENEMIES GAAAHHHH DRAX ENEMIES!!!!!

- He plays guitar, drums and also sings: Triple cool 😆

- His eyebrow piercing got irritated alot. Like ALOT:

He forgot to clean it. Damien tried endlessly to tell him he'd end up with a tomato brow if he didn't take care of it. He didn't really listen but hey it worked out in the end!! happy days!

- He has BIG mood swings BIG: This is canon but WHATEVER. I like to imagine some of the hangouts he has with his friends go like:

5 minutes in: Oh yay! This is a fun hangout!

10 minutes in: I HATE THE FLOOR AND I HATE THE TWO OF YOU GO AWAY LEAVRMA,LEN,ENNOW

12 minutes in: I love you guys pls neevrbr leavemr idk what Id do without u ❤️❤️ group hug guys group HUG❤️

13 minutes in: we're not hanging out anymore

13½ minutes in: NO COME BACK IM SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT

- He laughs either like a hyena or like Peter Griffin: he's either "SAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHGKAKLJJABLJAHLJIBJAKLBJAKLLJABJKBJAIBZIBAIJBIABJLIBIAIBJLIBJLALBJAJLBIKABJLIKBMAL" or "nyeheheheheheh...." depends if he's feeling BIG AND BOLD or mischievous cheshire cat 😈

- His love language is pacing around the room and telling you his grand bizarre plans and interests. Just endlessly talking....:

Me too Max. Me too.

- Sport is one of his other hobbies besides music he definitely loves the competitiveness part in sport class:

Half his classmates want him blown to smithereens, but hey he's a really good player so the sporty ones like him! He LOVES to win AND WON'T ACCEPT A DRAW EITHER HE WILL NOT

every time a draw happens he grabs the nearest ball and throws it at the nearest person while shrieking in agony

When his team wins hes like ☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻🤡😂🤡😂🤡😂🤡😂🤡🤣🤡😂🤣🤡😂🤡☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻 nanananananananan hahahahahah

- He has ALOT of his freckles because he's always outside:

It's the only reason Jaime and Damien have an ounce of Vitamin D, cause Max always drags them outside to hang out!

- TOOTH GAP. CANON. CANON. DONT CARE:

😁😁😁

- Him and Damien love South Park!!:

His favorite is probably Cartmannn..... He likes to imagine himswlf and Damien as Cartman and Kyle. He's very sad Jaime doesn't really watch it though.

- All 3 of them love Homestuck though!!!! When the 4th member of their band didn't DITCH THEM YET (🙄) They all cosplayed the Beta kids:

Max was Dave, Damien was John, Jaime as Roseeee.....and Loser Traitor 4th member was Jade. Screw you LT.

Damien:

Damikins Damikins Damishminkywins my little shmitten kitten booboo snooky cookie🥹🥹🥹🥹

HE HAS STRETCHED LOBES.: IM TELLING YOU.

He also has lazy eye: if you don't know what that is it's basically One eye is great and does it's job. Second eye sucks and goes loosy goosey (up down left right instead of centre we'll say.)

HE'S GERMANNNN: I can't decide if he actually speaks German though idk....hmmmmmmm yeah maybe actually

Likes to paint 🎨🎨: AND HE'S DAMN GOOD AT IT TOO 😈😈 He mainly does objects but sometimes people!

HIM AND HAILEY MAKE THE BESTEST FRIENDS!: They're both physically 17 but internally 97. They stand together, deeply sigh together and criticize the hideously idiotic people around them. Damiens the more talented one at it though.

⬆️ wait this just occured to me. Hailey Damien and Zander as a trio would be so great?? OMG

New HC!!!! Him and Zander both wear alot of jewelry (bracelets and rings and stuff) so they might trade some 🤔🤔: hmmm

He's one of those people that's naturally very good at Math: so he's always the one his friends (or just random classmates..) go to for either answers to steal or just for help. He doesn't really mind either, how kind of him 😁😁

Basic Stuff..

..like bdays and heights!!!

🎁

Max: December 3rd 2003

Damien: January 17th 2003

Jaime: October 31st 2003

📏

Max: 5'7 idk (170cm)

Damien: 6'3 (190cm)

Jaime: 5'3½! (161cm)

OKAY THERES THAT DONE. idk if you can edit posts i forgor but hey if i think of any more hcs or see any from others I like I'll come back and update. TY FOR READING ALL THIS BABBLING HELPME

[manicplank]

Alright now this one will be dimn but

Head cannons about how they feel about the simps?

hehehehe I like this prompt hehehehehehe

How do they feel about their simps?

Peppino: He's incredibly confused! Who in their right mind would want to [TAUNT SFX] a fat old man like him? He doesn't realize there are people out there that love dad bods. Even without the lust, why are people obsessed with him?? Regardless, he feels a bit honored and flattered.

Gustavo: Oh goodness, people want to do WHAT to him? Hug him and snuggle him? Boy, he would LOVE that! He's so honored that people love him as a person. He feels the love and positivity, and it makes him so happy. By the way, Gustavo, people want to uh... Yeah, never mind.

Mr. Stick: Woah! Ladies, fellas, and theydies* want him, he's shocked! He doesn't necessarily dislike his appearance, but he didn't realize people found him so fine. He totally lets it get to his head. He's just confused as to what a "twink" is. Don't tell him. He can find out on his own.

Pepperman: Finally, he's been recognized for his amazing art. He has a following, his own fan base, and even people making fan art of him. How wonderful! He might flex those muscles just to make them shiver with glee. Oh, how they must worship his greatness!

The Vigilante: WHO ARE ALL YOU PEOPLE??? HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU AND HE DOESN'T KNOW WHY PEOPLE ARE DRAWING PICTURES OF HIM!!! Oh wait, he has "simps"? Oh, that's a new term to him, but alright. He thought y'all were angry criminals hunting him down. Well, this old man is flattered that people admire him!

The Noise: Heh, more fans, huh? Well, that explains why NTV ratings suddenly shot up. Let him just show off the goods to his fangirls and fanboys and fan-nonbinaries. (Is there a term for that?) He's such a cocky little bastard. Look, but don't touch! *finger guns* (Seriously, don't touch. He bites. Hard.)

Noisette: WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE AND WHY ARE THEY SIMPING FOR HER AND HER BOYFRIEND??!?!?!? She is totally fuming! At least over his simps. As for her simps, she's totally flattered! She doesn't understand the hype. She's just a simple little lady trying to run her café.

Fake Peppino: Omg people! Him loves people! Can he eats them? No? Boo. :( He's excited that people want to give him hugs and squishes and pets! Yay!!! If only they would come into Bruno's, he pretty pretty promises that he won't try to bite or eat them!!!

Pizzaface: What? He has what now? Simps? Like the Simpsons? Simpletons? Yes, simpletons. Heh. Of course he's to be worshipped. People love pizza, he could imagine they'd love a flying pizza. He's confused on why they keep saying he's hot. He hadn't been in an oven.

Pizzahead: Yes, of course he has simps. I mean, who wouldn't want a piece of that pizza? Ah, to have such loyal fans, he loves it! He's totally flattered and absolutely lets it go to his head. Who would've thought his ego could get any bigger.

Pillar John: Oh, thank God! People want to save him! He's been waiting for so long! Wait, they want to WHAT him??? OHHHH, hug! He thought you said... Nevermind. Please send help! He wants out of this tower without dying!

Gerome: What the [taunt SFX] is a simp? Oh... Heh, neat. He thinks strangers being in love with him is a little strange, but he'll take any love he can get. Lord knows he doesn't get enough of it. Cool. *back to mopping*

-

** If "theydies" makes anyone uncomfortable pls lmk and I will change it! I thought it was just a silly term that Stick would use to refer to his enby fans.

edited to add that this is what noise considers "showing off the goods" (it wouldn't let me link it)

[highlordofkrypton]

Time for Day 3 of @tamlinweek, and the first of two prompts: Mates!

For an angsty-er reading: keep in mind that this scene is set in a universe with the same 'canon' events that ended Rhysand and Tamlin's friendship 🙃

Otherwise, pls enjoy the softhearted feels~

Read Mates on AO3 or below the cut:

“What do you think it’s like, wildflower?”

“Hmm?”

“Being mates?”

The cool breeze of the Illyrian mountains skirts across his broad back, a soothing touch across the litany of scars there. He’d fallen asleep under the sun, basked by the peace and quiet that comes with being around the person he loves. It takes Tamlin a moment to stir, to lift his head from the faceplant he’d dozed off in. He rests his chest on his arms, looking at the dream beside him.

Handsome in a sly way, Rhysand is crafted like finery—unique, sharp, and well-thought out, like the Mother had been inspired to bring life to the word striking. There is no one like him, save for his father, but Tamlin believes that Rhysand could not wear the moustache or the goatee the same way as the High Lord of Night does.

Tamlin reaches out to touch this High Faerie who is so different from him, yet the same. He is the dark to his light, the lean to his broad, and the cleverness to his strength. They are the unwilling heirs, and the reluctant soldiers, to their father’s brutal wills.

He shifts in the grass, leaning over Rhysand, and presses a generous kiss against his liss. He suckles at that bottom lip, and coaxes him to open—to let him in. The answer to the question is etched directly onto Rhysand’s tongue, a secret language only for him.

“Like that, probably,” he whispers, breathless. His fingers are still tangled in those raven locks, curled and caressing.

“What? Like kissing?” Rhysand snorts, a beautiful imperfect sound. Tamlin lives in those little revelations, the Faerie behind the facade who makes mistakes, and who falls every now and then. He lives in the moments where he can help, not only the times where the young Lord lets him in.

“Like kissing you.”

“Are you kissing anyone else?”

“Well, no.”

“Are you planning to kiss anyone else?”

“Obviously not.”

“So, technically, it’s just kissing,” Rhysand teases.

Tamlin leans on his elbow, raising his brow curiously, but the smile on his face is a mild mix of unimpressed, and cocky. He lets his touch dance across Rhysand’s skin, daring even to tickle the soft hairs that trail down towards…

“Just kissing, huh? Here I was, trying to show you how I feel and you mock me? Perhaps I should stop putting my mouth on you, stop curling my tongue around your nipples and your c—”

“My, my, wildflower. How you’ve improved your dirty talk.”

Laughter is free here, in the valley of dreams. They exist outside of their roles, and far beyond any expectations. It is a very lazy state of being, one that both Faeries embrace all too willingly.

“But really… Do you think it’ll change anything for us?”

“For us, no. We found each other before the bond, so I don’t think it’ll change much, but for others…” Tamlin trails, thinking of his mother, and of Lilith who’s love is vastly different when it comes to her son and her husband. They gave everything to their husbands and their sons—for what? The hurt they carry, he’s not immune to it. He’s not immune to the guilt, either. “I think it’s a prison.”

Rhysand’s agreement is a hum. “My mother says the bond is less about love, and more about balance. The bond gives you what you need. For her, it was protection and a way out.”

“For mine, it was purpose,” Tamlin chimes in. It’s not that he doesn’t believe his mother would have found her purpose, but more that the circumstances in their world… It’s limiting. The males are favoured, and even then, only the strong. He thinks back to an old memory, the time where he met the Ladies of Prythian.

This is where the real power is, he recalls Hyacinthus’ words. Who else has the ear of the High Lords in such a way?

“Make a bargain with me, wildflower.”

“Again? What are we at, three?”

If Tamlin didn’t know any better, it feels like Rhysand is trying to forge a bond.

If the Cauldron won’t give them one, Rhysand will make one.

Of all things, Tamlin cannot think of anything more like him. He is spoiled in his own way, taught to think that he can have whatever he wants as long as he can outthink the laws of this universe. It’s a wonder, truly, to someone like him who has wanted nothing more than to do the right thing.

“Two,” Rhysand corrects easily. “But I just need your word for this one.”

“Good because the tattoos would have been hard to cover up.” You know, because he is naked more often than not. No use wasting fabric if he’s to tear them every time he shifts. More importantly, Tamlin has always believed that his word means more than any magic in Prythian. It is a choice he will have to make, continuously, to live up to his promise. That’s what love should be like.

A choice.

“What do you want then?”

“I want you to promise me that if you need something, anything, you won’t leave it up to chance. You’ll talk to me. You’ll let me bet there for you. Mates or not, you’ll have me. I want you to know that. Promise me, wildflower?”

Tamlin laughs, the sound a low rumble in his chest, like an amused lion. “That’s an easy promise. I, on the other hand, am observant. You said it yourself, so I just want you to love me forever.” He shrugs, grinning because he doesn’t really expect Rhysand to always love him. They’ll have ups and downs, but that’s the beauty of it. Their love will be what they make of it.

“Done. You and only you will have my heart. Now, can you elaborate more on the kissing? I’m not sure I understood what you were trying to say before.”

“Mhm,” Tamlin grins, wolfish, as he leans over Rhysand and shows him all the things he can do with his mouth.

[themostlesbianever]

last episode i might die we havent seen sevika at all basically

- no cuz im actually kinda surprised that jinx hasnt killed herself yet

- watch it all burn

- is this her killing herself?

- "who tf did yo hair" jinx babe

- OMG HELLO EKKO

- JINX STOP YOURE GONNA KILL HIM

- JINX DAMN

- no because vi and jayce in the same room is never a good sign

- please dont fuck it up this time

- whos vi carrying?

- you gotta be a whole nee level of dramatic when you bring your own drums to a fight to get some dramatic music going, damn ambessa

- OH HOT LADY ITS HOT LADY

- NOOO THEY KILLED HOT LADY

- fuck me ambessa is so hot but i hate her guts

- i fear we are not getting sevika brothel scene and i think thats rude

- PLEASE FUCK OFFFFFFF

- how about you HURRY THE FUCK UP JAYCE

- OH HES ON SHIMMER

- NO WAY THEY KILLED LORIS

- this is damn nerve wracking

- YES BLUE FISH MAN GET IT

- GOOD JOB BLUE FISH MAN

- so who knocked cait out??

- fuck me ambessa is so hot

- MADDIE YOU FUCKING BITCH

- I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING POSITIVE I SAID ABOUT YOU

- FUCK ME CAIT NO

- YES MEL YES

-JINX

- AND EKKO AND HIS GANG

- MY WIFE SEVIKA

- HELL YEAH SEV GET THEIR ASSES

- THIS SHIT IS SICK

- fuck me sevika you are SO hot

- HELL YEAH VI

- HELL YEAH RANDOM MAN

- do NOT smirk at me ambessa

- viktor is going to meet his boyfriend

- damn bro

- this character design us cool but i like old viktor better

- NO NOT SEVIKA

- DO NOT

- NOT MY BABY

- AMBESSA STOP BEING SI DAMN HOT

- cait baby youre bad at hand to hand combat

- VANDER PLS SEE THAT THESE ARE YOUR DAUGHTERS

- HELL YEAH EKKO

- looking yummy mel

- HURRY THE FUCK UP DUDE

- fuck yeah mel get her ass

- wait are they killing ambessa

- oh hi mel

- no way both jayces love interest become god thats hilarious😭😭

- ambessa please let this be a sign to stop being a war criminal and start being a good mum

- oh no she dead

- she dead as fuck

- SHOW ME MY WIFE

- damn is vi sticking to the walls

- spiderman ass

- spidergwen

- what is with this family and wearing bandages as a shirt

- jayce i say kiss him and throw him off

- jinx you look sick as fuck

- DAD

- damn they gotta fight him

- omg what us happening

- ahw shit

- jayce and vi are in the same room lets hope this ends well

- NUH UH

- they gotta give us a happy ending right?

- EKKO PLS TURN BACK TIME

- SEVIKA NO

- NOT SEVIKA

- stop

- genuinely stop

- EKKO WAKE THE FUCK UP

- damn viktor really is god

- jayce just called viktor beautiful lol

- FUCK YEAH EKKO

- ekko has always and will always be my favourite (after sev)

- NO EKKO NO

- what the fuck is happening

- oh?

- this some gay shit

- viktor is feelinf the gay and decides to stop i bet yku

- VIKTOR HELLO

- okay beard

- "only you can show me this" 'this' meaning gay love?

- yall can do it homos

- THEY DID IT

- sevika youre so hot

- jinx you look sick as fuck

- istg if they kill off vi

- wait they cant, plot armour snd shit

- STOP

- stop yall im being fr

- JINX WHAT

- hi sevika

- COUNCIL SEVIKA????

- oh she deserves this so much

- oh girl lost an eye

- stop

- caitlyn looks so much older idk

- they cant just not give sevika any voice lines

its over.

[pesterloglog]

Jade Harley, Roxy Lalonde

Act 6, page 6291-6297

JADE: excuse me but did you just "laugh your ass off" at me under your breath

ROXY: ummm

ROXY: yea

ROXY: maybe

JADE: :|

JADE: i fail to see what is so amusing

ROXY: u do

ROXY: seriously?

JADE: .....

JADE: ok i guess the situation is a little funny because of this absurd folder

JADE: and the fact that i woofed at you probably didnt help either

JADE: but im not here to share a good laugh over the old ladys sense of design or her penchant for scrapbooking!

JADE: i am here to make sure that you do as youre told

ROXY: ugh

JADE: now take the file and review your assignment

ROXY: i already looked at it

ROXY: its dumb and impossible and i aint cooperating w her regardless!

JADE: yes you will

ROXY: can we change the subject

JADE: no

ROXY: arent you jakes grandma

JADE: thats what he told me when we were pen pals

JADE: but i think its more accurate to say im his alternate universe biological daughter

ROXY: oh

ROXY: that clears that up then

JADE: yes, it does :p

JADE: now take the damn folder

ROXY: so alt grannydaughter english

ROXY: whyre u part dog + evil lookin

JADE: DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!!

ROXY: what

JADE: my surname is harley not english

JADE: but you may refer to me as jade, or ma'am if you are feeling especially nervous and deferential

JADE: which as it turns out is the way you should be feeling about me, ALWAYS >:B

ROXY: LOL!!!

JADE: lol WHAT

ROXY: jade i am in no way buying that ur normally this pompous and tyrannical

ROXY: the shtick rly doesnt suit you its so obvious

ROXY: why you doin the batterhags tacky bidding anyway

ROXY: she got you under an xtra terrestrial fish spell or

JADE: SILENCE!!!!!!

ROXY: OOF!

JADE: open the file

ROXY: mrphmmphumph

JADE: OPEN IT!

ROXY: fine :(

ROXY: ok i opened it

ROXY: hey look its the same shit as before

ROXY: im supposed to make this weird knobbly spike ball appear out of nothin

JADE: yes

ROXY: ok got it

ROXY: let me give it a shot then

ROXY: ...

ROXY: welp still impossible

ROXY: what now maam??

JADE: it is not impossible

ROXY: is 2

JADE: you are the rogue of void

JADE: dont you know what that means?

ROXY: i dunno

ROXY: means i can turn invisible and stuff?

ROXY: like the blonde in that crappy superhero quartet

JADE: it means a lot more than that

JADE: your true powers are more impressive than those of anyone else in your crappy quartet

JADE: in fact i would say they are almost as cool as mine >:)

ROXY: not sure the ability to make weird spikeballs outta nothin is all that cool tbh

JADE: not just spikeballs!

JADE: imagine that your title is roughly synonymous with "one who steals nothing"

JADE: what do you think it means to be able to steal nothing?

ROXY: it means

ROXY: im like a shitty cat burglar who sucks at her job?

JADE: WRONG

JADE: it means just the opposite

JADE: it means you can steal the essence of nothingness from something

JADE: you can rob nothingness from an idea if you put your mind to it

JADE: effectively allowing you to conjure virtually anything out of thin air

ROXY: omg

ROXY: u cant be serious

ROXY: that is way too much superpower 4 a dork like me 2 have

JADE: grrrrr...

ROXY: oh no

ROXY: pls dont growl @ me dogjade

ROXY: is legit frightening :(

JADE: im sorry, but your remarks of self deprecation made me very angry

JADE: once i was even more of a dork than you

JADE: but now i am one of the most powerful beings who has ever existed

JADE: i dont want to hear any whining about what you think you cant do

JADE: you are hereby under strict orders from myself and her condescension to "clam up" and conjure that orb, do you understand?

ROXY: so im just supposed to

ROXY: sit here and think about this ugly ball

ROXY: and twiddle my fingers or somethin

ROXY: ?

JADE: you tell me

JADE: space is my racket, not void

ROXY: maybe it would help if i knew what the dang thing WAS

ROXY: how am i supposed to steal the nonexistence from a concept when the concept only exists in my mind as "ugly ball"

JADE: its called the matriorb

JADE: it is the key to resurrecting the troll race

JADE: once you create it the empress will hatch it on an uninhabited planet located beyond the reach of her cruel employer

JADE: there her people will have another chance to thrive without the ever looming threat of extinction that comes with his influence

JADE: so you see roxy, there is nothing noble about refusing to help

JADE: once an entire alien race went extinct because of a terrible monster, and you can help give them a second chance

JADE: dont you want that?

ROXY: um

ROXY: in theory sure i guess

ROXY: but ur basically asking me to bring a lot of people back to life so they can be slaves to that witch

ROXY: u want me to help make all these fresh new trolls but then just turn em over to her? like here you go have fun SNORKELBITCH MEGAHITLER

ROXY: i do not actually think i wanna do that??

JADE: yes fair enough, but heres the other thing...

JADE: if you dont i am going to kill you

ROXY: oh noes

JADE: oh yesses!

JADE: a literal plurality of yesses

JADE: seeing as you are a god tier it is very likely you will come back to life

JADE: so i can just keep killing you over and over a different way each time

JADE: maybe i will disembowel you a few times

JADE: i will not even need to use my sharp doggy teeth!

JADE: i will just snap my fingers and your delicious guts will teleport outside your body

ROXY: ew!

JADE: no way more like yum

JADE: i will just keep on killing you again and again

JADE: until you finally get tired of dying and follow your orders

ROXY: maaan

ROXY: evil jade is sucky jade

JADE: i believe you will find i am the suckiest jade there is

JADE: now we are going to be here in this cell for as long as it takes

JADE: i am not going anywhere until you try doing your voidey thing and make something appear

JADE: is that understood?

ROXY: blehhhh

ROXY: fine

ROXY: why u gotta be so awful jade

ROXY: really putting a cramp on us makin choice new friends w each other

ROXY: oh well here goes

ROXY: all twiddlin my fingers and such

ROXY: busting out tha MAJYYXXX! prayin up a storm to the holy wizardchrist they aint fake...

ROXY: alright check it

ROXY: one jank ass space egg coming up

ROXY: ABRACA HAPPEN!

ROXY: this is not a space egg

JADE: no, its not

ROXY: balls

ROXY: guess i effed up my void spell

ROXY: what is this thing

JADE: thats a perfectly generic object

ROXY: its perfectly generic?

JADE: yes

ROXY: dunno about that

ROXY: looks like a green cube to me

ROXY: with like

ROXY: slightly beveled corners

JADE: thats what a perfectly generic object is

ROXY: couldnt something theoretically be more generic than this

JADE: how

ROXY: um

ROXY: i dunno

JADE: exactly

ROXY: :\

JADE: if you want your powers to reach their full potential youre going to need to become more familiar with the fundamental building blocks of ideas and how they translate into more complicated thoughts and forms

JADE: then it becomes a simple matter of using your abilities to snatch those concepts from unreality

ROXY: sounds too hard

ROXY: better start killing me repeatedly and get it over with

JADE: we both know you dont think its too hard, you think it sounds like an interesting challenge

ROXY: dammit!

ROXY: (fucken jakes wily bitch ass grandma)

JADE: this is a very good start though

JADE: with a little practice im sure our empress will have her orb in no time

ROXY: well at least i know i can make a whole lot of these boring cubes if all else fails

ROXY: hey maybe ill build a sick fort outta them

ROXY: hehehe jade tell me that wouldnt be so baller

JADE: it would be fairly baller

ROXY: fyeah

JADE: keep trying for that orb though

JADE: i will return in a while to review your progress

JADE: and remember, dont get any funny ideas

ROXY: but p much all my ideas are funny

JADE: i mean dont try to escape!

JADE: even if you are invisible i will be able to track you down instantly

JADE: my sense of smell is very good

JADE: now if youll excuse me i have some business to attend to

ROXY: what business

JADE: i am still trying to locate my brother

JADE: but im having trouble picking up his scent

JADE: hes using his windy powers to obscure the trail and its giving me fits

ROXY: windy powers eh

ROXY: who is your bro?

JADE: woof!!!

JADE: i mean shoosh :x

JADE: that is enough questions from you

JADE: now i believe you have a space egg to conjure

ROXY: (mumble mumble egg mumble shove it grumble)

JADE: what?

ROXY: (mumble mutter my fat ass)

JADE: farewell roxy

[pwnyta]

Hi Ewim, I'd like to ask your opinion on something pls? None of my friends follow One Piece and I trust you opinions as they are, objectively, correct 90% of the time. My problem is that I have the decision making skills of a concussed raccoon and the attention span of a mouldy walnut, I have two supercute OP OCs, but cannot decide which to write about and only have the energy to write about one. Could you tell me which sounds the most interesting/which would be the most fun??

My quartermaster axe wielding enabler momfriend lady who is chubby, cuddly, and a tank in a fight. No devil fruit. She's just a fucking WALL. Big axe, big damage. Her trouble is that the mom instincts are too strong, she will try to mom everyone, even enemies. Sometimes to hilarious benefit, sometimes to horrible detriment. Robin got crew mom role by default as the oldest woman, let her live her "not my problem" wine aunt best life. She would join roughly around Romance Dawn, at the start. Her dream is to see the Grandline and go everywhere her grandfather described in the Log Book she inherited from him, and then write her own. Cant handle birds though.

Or my feral 10 year old cabingirl rigger who just escaped Doflamingo and Bellamy by stowing away on Merry during the Jaya arc. She's like a stabbier Ace at the same age. No devil fruit but she used to be rivals with Ms Goldenweek, she worked out hypnosis but chose to use it via singing as it Couldn't be washed away. But her primary thing is knives. So many knives. Twenty hidden knives on her person at ALL times. At first she just wants to escape Doflamingo, then kill him, but eventually her dream will be to paint everywhere she's seen on the Grand Line. She's a bit like the boys and gets really excited about cool stuff like robots and the like, Luffy and Usopp would be a bad influence. Cannot stop herself from being distracted or stealing knives if they're nice enough. Terrified of dolls and dogs.

I love both of my girls very much, but I can't write them both. I do not have the spoons. Which one should I quite??? I can't choose!! 😭😭😭

Babes you asked me to between an axe wielding mommy and a child.

Of course Im going with AXE WIELDING MOMFRIEND. Oda took our chance of having an axe woman... you are just returning that. Nature is healing.

Its not just aesthetics tho!

I do think she has more to work with in the dynamic of the Mugis and has a more unique vibe and a cute reason to explore with them/dream which I think is QUINTESSENTIAL in having a character be a good Mugi.

Thank you for trusting my judgement! Despite the horrors of me.