Hi Petals, do you have some more of these check please headcanons? They make me, like, really happy and this week is not going well.

petals42:

Oh boy – I’m so sorry to hear your week isn’t going well. Ah! I am working on the ice crew au instead of HCs lately but would you like to hear my initial thoughts on Whiskey?

Imma tell you about Whiskey (hope this is happy enough for you!)

• So, when I first read Whiskey, I was a little… underwhelmed? He didn’t pop for me as much as the other characters did (like we don’t need another Nursey up in this business) but THEN, I got to thinking and I decided that Whiskey is the Ultimate Big Brother.
• What I mean by this: Whiskey was the only child of two very loving parents, so loving in fact that they decided to open their home to foster children.
• So, at age 7, Whiskey became a big brother. To two adorable little girls who were five and three and who were very small and a little bit annoying to his seven year old brain and he had to be very careful when playing with them because they were frightened of loud noises for some reason that his mother never fully explained and he was not sure what to do with them, really, but then one day they left (”to go live with their grandmother, isn’t that nice?” his mother told him) and he found he missed them. Even though they were always messing up his legos. 
• The house was too empty without them but before long, a little boy by the name of Steve came and it was only a week that Steve stayed with them but his mother said there would be more soon and–
• And so that is how it went. Whiskey would gain siblings and then some would stay for months and months, some would stay for only a few days until another relative was found; some would write to them afterwards; some would leave only to come back for bursts of time later; some would end up moving out of state. Whiskey learned to accept people immediately and to welcome them without question and to hold onto the knowledge that it might not be for forever but to love them anyway. Because usually they needed it. 
• It did change Whiskey, but not in a bad way. Because Whiskey also learned that sometimes his mother had to ignore him to deal with Sally, who was having a panic attack; sometimes his father had to miss one of his games to go testify in court; sometimes both his parents had to put their attention elsewhere because elsewhere meant more kids coming to his house and being safe and while Shitty learned about privilege largely through academics, Whiskey learned it through experience. Through realizing that even if they didn’t always have time, his parents loved him very much. 
• Really, he is damn proud of them. Sure, there were times in middle school where he resented them a little because their house was always full of children (they’d maxed out at 8 once, and that was 8 not including Whiskey) and sometimes his parents were out dealing with social workers and Whiskey was put in charge of making sure everyone got an after school snack but even in his worst moments, all Whiskey has to do is remember the kids that come to his house bruised and he calms himself down and remembers that
• Whiskey’s parents forget to pick him up after practice once. It is only three miles, so he realizes what had happened and walks home and then when he gets there, the house is in disarray because the Thomspon toddlers are screaming and Bethany has failed her science test and is crying because she’d actually studied and still no one notices that he’s walked home, but he grabs a toddler and calms him down and– “How did you get home?” his mother asks him in the middle of the night. He blinks, confused and certain that this is a dream and she asks again, more desperate this time “I didn’t pick you up, sweetie, and your father just told me he didn’t either and how did you get home?” “I walked, Mom,” Whiskey says, shrugging. His mother lets out a little gasp that might be a sob. “Mom, it’s okay. Really.” “I- I’m so sorry,” she says and he’s fifteen and his mother is crying and– “Maybe- maybe this is too much. Maybe we should–” “No,” Whiskey says. “No, really, I’m okay. I like this. Don’t feel guilty. You’re doing great. I’m happy.”

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