come back with a warrant.

There will always be those who want to tell you who you are based on your name or the blood in your veins. Do not let other people decide who you are. Decide for yourself.

[brolinjosh]

#upset roommate luis

[maxlowes]

implses‌:

     ── he should have just swallowed his hesitations and called miles instead. while his help came accompanied with a significant amount of remorse over blue’s tendencies to drag him into his own chaos, at least miles didn’t immediately spit venom at him like max did. he felt no similar concerns over tying his roommate into his latest disasters, and that certainly made it easier later on— when he’d settled at home, had time to let any guilt eat into him —but he wasn’t sure it was worth the trade. max had come in hot, sharp and irritated and speaking quickly enough that blue didn’t bother trying to follow the words out of his mouth, catching his movements instead. not that it was too difficult to guess the gist of it off sheer body language alone.

“not arrested.” he corrected with a grin, ensuring his smugness was worn as blatantly as he could manage, unwilling to waver in front of max. they had certain rules, he thought, unspoken as they were, and expressing any potential respite at his presence was absolutely against them. “detained. huge difference, you know.” he made sure to sign wide so as to show off his mobility, unhindered. the distinction between the two had become somewhat inconsequential at this point, with his habits, though max didn’t need to know that. “see ?  no cuffs.” 

at the complaints, blue stood and waited as the door unlocked, stretching as if it were all a leisurely sort of conversation. “hey, maybe i’m just getting it out of my system. closing out the year with a bang.” his fists opened in a gesture of an explosion, a little overenthusiastic about the whole thing. it was possible he was still up on adrenaline, perhaps reeling from when the car he’d been in had stopped too fast and slightly shaken his brain in his skull, or simply feeling performative for max’s sake. blue knew that the more unbothered he seemed, the more it’d irritate the other, and he couldn’t help but press buttons when they were so blatantly accessible to him. “setting things straight for 2019, yeah ?  besides, this one wasn’t my fault. i wasn’t even driving.”

Max’s jaw clenches at the smugness radiating off of Blue’s dumb ass, annoyance making him take a measured breath. Getting a call from the police about Blue was fucking normal. Annoying, but normal. 

Getting a call from the police having to do with Blue and something involving a fucking car?

Not as normal. Also, a whole other level of stupid. What the fuck?

As much as Max hated the guy he didn’t want him to literally fucking die. Who was going to pay the other half of his fucking rent?

So, Max finds himself subtly scanning the way Blue signs widely for evidence of any injury even as he rolls his eyes at his words. Max is fairly confident that if Blue could talk this much shit he couldn’t have possibly actually hurt himself, but he still watches the way he stands to check for a limp anyways. It’s only because Max knows if Blue fucking got some sort of leg injury that the other would be bitching about it forever, trying to get Max to fucking do shit for him like make him food or fix his shit all cause he had a booboo fucking ankle. It’d be annoying and Max just wants to make sure he doesn’t have to fucking deal with that. 

“You’re still behind fucking bars, dumbass. What’s the fucking difference?” Max signs back as he speaks, watching the doors unlock for Blue as he stretches like this is just a walk in the fucking park. Max feels his annoyance flare as he holds back a growl, knowing that Blue is trying to fucking annoy him with his nonchalance and his theatrics. The thanks he gets for picking his stupid ass up. He can’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighs and repeats to himself, if he’s alright enough to bug you then he’s alright. 

“What, is that supposed to fucking make shit better?” Max asks with a scoff, as he looks back up at Blue, irritation clear and movements jerky as he asks, “you still got into the car with the asshole that did it. You could have started 2019 straight in hell instead of detained.”

[30-minute-memes]

Children

[maxlowes]

jessencvak‌:

Most, if not all, of Jesse’s little side projects had been shitty failures. Either the members weren’t passionate enough, their personalities clashed, or their music just straight up sucked. It was a pattern in where Jesse joined one band after the other, got tired of it, and moved on like the true drifter he was. He didn’t need a reminder of it all but it was good to know that if he did, Max would be right there to re-tell all of his bad choices. It wasn’t as if Jesse denied it either, if anyone asked him yes he’d been in that band and yes that gig had been embarrassing, no he did not keep in contact with the other members. There was no reason to lie. 

“Didn’t lose her.” There it was. Lorelai. The reason Max and all those other fuckers had despised him for a bit. The difference was that they’d all gotten over it, all of them except Max. Hell, as far as Jesse was concerned Lorelai herself had gotten over it. But Max? The dude could hold a grudge and Jesse had years of bruises and a broken nose fixed too many times to prove it. It didn’t help that Jesse could still be an asshole about it just to get on Max’s nerves; acting as if he could do as he pleased with her and she’d go along with it- hence confusing those outsiders who wondered what exactly they were. 

He never knew when to shut up.

“The Novak’s house.” Jesse felt the need to clarify, not wanting to give Max the idea that he kept a picture of him in his own apartment. He hadn’t bothered to tell Marie and Reggie that he recognized the person under the costume when he saw them hanging it on their feature wall next to the staircase- but the fact remained that for the past few weeks whenever he’d visit he had Max Lowe, president of the Jesse Novak Is A Piece of Shit Club, staring right back at him.

Jesse wouldn’t have even recognized him were it not for the protruding mole that he had first noticed years back, when all he wanted was the copy of his notes (which might have been the first and last civil conversation the two had, if his memory served him right)— but alas, he had. “Dude.” Jesse only snickered in response, “don’t get your panties in a twist, Lowe.” He took another languid drink from his beer, giving himself time to finish laughing before his inebriated self thought it was a good idea to land a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Jesse gave his shoulder a squeeze, eyeing him only to try and guess whatever bullshit lie he was going to come up with. “My Christmas present to you will be keeping your secret. I know, I know it’s not me dropping dead like you’ve always wanted, but it’s the thought that counts, no?”

Max was doing a good job of being pretty fucking calm until then. He was fucking civil. He was fucking cordial. But one small implication of Lorelai has his entire body stiffening in a moment, his jaw twitching and his hand clenching around his beer bottle for a moment before he’s on his feet. He doesn’t hesitate before fisting a hand in the front of Jesse’s shirt and physically yanking him to his feet, shoving him back against the bar with no heed for the alarmed look the bartender throws him. His eyes are dark with anger as they meet Jesse’s squarely, as he crowds the other into the bar until they’re almost nose to nose and  continues to clench his jaw tightly to resist the urge to punch before he even fucking speaks, if only because he likes this fucking bar and doesn’t want to get banned from another fucking establishment for putting Jesse fucking Novak in his place. 

He takes a deep breath and tries to remember that Jesse is high. And fucking annoying by nature. And mostly fucking harmless, cause Lorelai can take care of herself. He tries to remember his sister ultimatum. He tries to remember all the stupid shit he read in anger management for dummies. All as he looks into Jesse’s eyes in the thick of tense silence. 

In the end Max takes another deep fucking breath, his chest expanding with it for a moment before he’s unclenching his fist and tensely reaching for his beer, barely blinking before he’s upturning it over the top of Jesse’s head. He nods to himself before taking Jesse’s beer and dumping it over the top of the other’s head too, for good measure.

It didn’t make him feel nearly as good as punching Jesse out would. But seeing the other soaked in beer did make him feel mildly better. 

“My Christmas present to you,” Max starts gravelly, his eyes meeting Jesse’s once again as he says, “... is not punching your fucking teeth out right now. But if you keep talking shit about Lor that might just fucking change.” Max pushes away from Jesse aggressively then, expression still twisted in a mix of frustration and disgust as he moves to put bills down on the table. Frustration in himself, because he knew Jesse was only trying to rile him up. And it always fucking worked. The fucker knew just what buttons to push to make Max want to strangle him, although for what fucking reason he would want Max to strangle him Max didn’t know. Disgust because--

Why did Lorelai date this guy? Max couldn’t fucking get it. Yeah, he wasn’t fucking hideous but the moment he opened his fucking mouth that didn’t even fucking matter. Fuck. 

“And tell whoever the fuck you want. I don’t need or want any fucking favours from you.” Max replies as he sits down heavily back in his stool, flagging the bartender down for something harder than beer. He can still feel the heat of eyes on him from the little scene, and he knows he could probably just give the makeshift audience a look to get them to mind their own fucking business, but he figures letting the masses fully appreciate a Jesse soaked like the rat he is would be better. 

[bllsource]

[soupsnakessss]

[awbuckyno]

[maxlowes]

text // @max

naomi: i think its my battery? a car has a battery right

naomi: im 2 streets away from my Crib. you kno that 1 street that has only one working lamp post? im on that one

naomi: maple

naomi: i just need a jump

naomi: :/// i rlly doubt that maxwell

naomi: microwaves kind of just burst into flames

max: they rly dont

max: ive got no idea wtf ur doin to make them do that

max: im omw

max: stay put & dnt take a ride fr any1 who offers

[lcnacondcr]

@maxlowes

Delivered Christmas Eve with a handwritten note in a card:

“We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, and a happy New Year! Love, the Rodgers girls

It’s time, grandpa. It’s not exactly new, but none of us are. This one won’t drop your calls to your very important friend Lorelai, which is a very important feature.

Love you, kid.

LR”

[maxlowes]

text // @max

naomi: ur bewitching face and kind soul keep me Inspired for all compliments

naomi:

naomi: im okay !!

naomi: listen that was only the two times :////

naomi: no microwave fires today!!

naomi: can't get my car to start tho

max: what

max: where r u

max: and listen im glad ur ok but i want u 2 kno that 2x is more than any1 else has ever set their microwave on fire

[averysparkle]

[affleckgifs]

[maxlowes]

jessencvak‌:

Satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten out of Max, Jesse smiled to himself. By now he was aware of what made the other tick, and being as he was slightly intoxicated, possibly awakening the beast was the least of his concerns. “Well,” He started his answer condescendingly, “I’m at a bar. An establishment where alcohol is sold. How are your math skills since High School?” Always the smart ass, Jesse rarely put a second thought into his words. Clearly. 

With Max’s attempt at driving the bartender away, Jesse inevitably called out after them and insisted on his drink. “Don’t listen to him, man. Dude’s been working extra hard this holiday season.” He waved him in a hurried way so to not get Max the ability for any extra input, easing in his seat and leaning forward on the bar top- watching the bartender go for only a beat longer before shifting his attention back to Max. Amused, mostly due to his state, he cracked a smile; reminiscing on the failure of all his previous bands and side projects. They were shit, no doubt about it, and Max had been there to witness them.

“You win some, you lose some. In the end I’d say I won.” He didn’t get the chance to elaborate, not that he wanted to or that Max wanted to hear it, but then his beer was being placed in front of him and intoxicating himself even further was much more appealing. Naturally though, he thought up of something even more appealing: Embarrassing him. “There is a framed picture of you and my sister on Reggie’s and Marie’s wall right now, you know that right?” Jesse eyed him with a hint of glee in his eyes as he took a swing from his bottle. He’d kept the secret for teasing purposes, not wanting to use it too soon, but fuck it; he hadn’t even realized it until he was home and staring intensely at the photograph- convinced that he was hallucinating shit. He was not. “What you gonna bring me this year, Santa? I can’t promise I haven’t been naughty.” 

Max’s eyes narrow as Jesse continues to be a smartass, his jaw twitching at the  comment about his high school education, or rather, lack there of. He should have expected the other to start spewing shit the moment he asked the question, and to a certain extent he did. Didn’t make it any less annoying. “Gee, I don’t fucking know, how’s your nose doing since I fucking broke it? Does it miss being in two fucking pieces cause I could arrange for that to fucking happen again. Don’t fucking play dumb with me, Novak. What the fuck are you doing beside me? Don’t you fucking have anywhere else to be? I know everyone else fucking hates being around you, but I hope you’re not fucking forgetting I do too.”

Max rolls his eyes as Jesse calls the bartender back. Max doesn’t even have it like that and he’s honestly considering tipping the guy just to not serve Jesse. Unfortunately, despite Max’s death glare the guy takes Jesse’s order, and Max is forced to suffer next to the asshole for god knows how fucking long. Of course he could leave, and in all honestly, as Jesse turns to him with the dopey fucking grin of his and cryptic as fuck comments, Max really considers it. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? They were all fucking shit, you lost fucking all of them, you idiot.” Max replies as he narrows his eyes and wonders just how high Jesse is right now. He’s considering confiscating his fucking beer and throwing him out despite the fact that he is one hundred percent off duty, when Jesse decides to open his mouth and spew the most confusing crap Max has ever heard. At least until it all clicks, a moment after. Jesse. The little Novak girl. Christmas at the fucking mall like a two weeks ago.

Fuck.Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Max flicks his tongue over his lips for a moment before he’s screwing up his face and preparing to fucking lie his ass off. 

“There’s a what? What the fuck? You have a framed picture of me in your house? Do you even understand how fucking creepy that is?” Max feels his heart pick up speed as Jesse straight up calls him out, internally cursing himself as he clenches his jaw. He really fucking thought Jesse didn’t recognize him then. Fuck, the asshole hardly even looked up! “Novak, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about but if you make some reference to sitting in my lap I really will break your fucking nose.” 

[maxlowes]

bluejamiemoon‌:

Jamie is on a chair right beside his window, open wide to enjoy the crisp, Winter Air the lovely town of Dingle has to offer…. Kidding. He’s currently puffing on a cigarette and carefully blowing it out of his apartment, shivering despite both the thick sweater and knitted blanket on his lap. Technically, he’s not supposed to be smoking in his apartment, but he’s only breaking this rule because he’s expecting Max. Promise. He definitely, scout’s honor, does not smoke any other time in this conveniently located chair with a handful of circular burn marks in the right arm, and especially not in these circumstances - right when he wakes up, right before he goes to sleep, and when he’s too lazy to go up to the roof.

He’s blissfully unaware of the angry, thudding footsteps approaching his door until it’s too late, Max blasting through his entrance while Jamie is in mid drag. He immediately starts hacking up a lung, tiny puffs of smoke escaping his lips with each cough. Really, Max? Just going to barge in? Well… that be Jamie’s own fault, seeing as he left his door unlocked for him. But, his coughing dies down and he finally starts hearing what Max is complaining. Oh. Oh, he’s BIG mad. About fucking Romeo and Juliet. Would it be terrible if Jamie laughed?

He does laugh, but tries hard to cover it up with another cough, stubbing out his cigarette into an ashtray and quickly shutting his window. “Glad see you enjoyed Romeo and Juliet,” he deadpans to the best of his ability, biting back a grin as he wraps his blanket about his shoulders and shuffles over to his couch “And, I agree with you, man. Both Romeo and Juliet are idiots. Romeo more so in my eyes,” He replies, sitting down on his couch and picking up the play in mention. Jamie thumbs through the copy as he continues. “He’s first in love with Juliet’s cousin… What’s her name? Rosalie… Rosaline? But, she doesn’t like him, so he peeps on Juliet and is like, ‘I love this one, just kidding about earlier’? What a rebounding fool.” He shakes his head, letting out a sigh. “Honestly, the only cool character in my eyes is Mercutio. The ultimate friend and wingman, and Romeo really lets him die because he’s a piece of shit that doesn’t want to fight his own battles.”

Max barely registers the sight of seeing Jamie smoke again, far too used to the other still sucking down nicotine despite his desire to quit. Not that Max could even be one to judge, considering he smokes like a chimney for Christ sakes, but Max was okay with going out like this. Lung cancer or whatever the fuck else he could get was what was waiting for him at the end of this tunnel and he could accept it. 

The more pressing matter is that Jamie feels the need to laugh at him, a feat that has Max leveling his friend with an irritable glare without much heat, scowling in a way that could really be considered more of a sulk. He flops down on Jamie’s couch as he scoffs at Jamie’s deadpan statement. It makes him feel slightly better that Jamie is on his side about the whole thing, although he would have loved to get all this pent up annoyance out in an argument. Despite that he still jumps at the chance to discuss the shit show he just read.

“Romeo’s a fucking moron. He takes the cake for fucking sure. I still don’t know how someone can’t fucking tell the difference between someone sleeping and someone fucking dead.” Max says with a wrinkle of his nose, and he knows he’s repeating himself but it’s just that fucking stupid. “And yeah, what the fuck was up with that! He jumped ship in like two fucking seconds! I mean, I get it, wanna get over somebody get under somebody else, but fuck this is not how you fucking do it.” Max scoffs a moment before he’s sighing, “Rosaline dodged a fucking bullet but fuck... that motherfucker’s got no loyalty. Mercutio deserved so much fucking better. He’s the one who should have gone down in history.” 

Max is leaning back to let his head rest on the back of Jamie’s couch then, shaking his head for a few moments before he’s glancing at Jamie and saying, “please tell me whatever’s next on this fucking required reading list isn’t so fucking shitty. Is there anything on there that you even fucking like? I trust your taste more than the school boards after this bull.” 

[raphmarchetti]

@maxlowes

Jesse and Max weren’t friends. Far from it, actually— and it was all thanks to Jesse’s incompetence in relationships, romantic or otherwise. The two basically had a yearly brawl where one said something the other didn’t like and Max’s short-temper got the best of him and next thing you knew punches were being thrown and the two had a shiner for the week. It didn’t help that Lorelai and Max could be inseparable at times, forcing the two to be tolerable of each other at most for her sake.

So they weren’t friends and Jesse had no business in taking the stool next to him when he spotted him in the bar across the street from the undrgrnd, but he did it anyway for his own amusement. 

At first he didn’t say anything, waiting for Max to react and when he did Jesse’s face was plastered with a shit eating grin of satisfaction. “Miss me?” He greeted him in the most bothersome way he could think of, diverting his attention to the bartender and ordering a beer- but not before instructing him to put in on Max’s tab. It didn’t matter that he was already partly intoxicated thanks to a smoking session before the gig at the undrgrnd, he could handle it.

 “I gotta say, man. I didn’t know you guys started taking shitty acts up on stage. That was brutal.”

[maxlowes]

It had been far too long since Max had the time to sit down and have a drink and just fucking breath, and he was trying his best to do that and appreciate that for all it was worth, today especially. After turning away a fuckton of teenagers and throwing out no less than five fuckers causing shit, Max was tired, a bit sore, and really trying his best to fucking unwind; in fact, between languid swings of beer and tired sighs, he was actually scanning the crowd in search of exactly who would help him with just that, when his vision is obscured by the massive fucking head of the absolute last fucking person he ever wanted to see. 

Jesse fucking Novak. Fuck his life. 

Max can’t help the way his expression drops from one of almost relaxation to one of blatant annoyed disgust at the sight of Jesse, his mouth twisting in distaste instantly at that shit eating grin as he irritably puts down his beer. “What the fuck are you doing here, Novak?” His nostrils flare in agitation as Jesse puts a drink on a tab he doesn’t even fucking have, and he catches a quick whiff of weed, whatever the fuck soap Jesse uses and raging fucking douche bag, as he meets the bartender’s eye and firmly says, “Don’t fucking get him shit.” 

He glances back at Jesse in disbelief at the hypocritical comment before his eyes are rolling with his snort as he replies, “yeah, well, we decided to fucking upgrade from your god fucking awful ass after people kept complaining about their ears bleeding. Figure shitty is better than fucking painful.” 

[buffysummers]

[jiminfilter]