#I imagine he likes the more. practical gifts anyway so. yeah he'd definitely appreciate it-

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

jonah and/or cesar finds out seths birthday and gets him a heatbag

He definitely would like one-

[brideofcthulhu10]

More headcanons to help me work through the dreaded writer's block! Hope you guys don't mind it's a bit slow right now, I plan on posting another tonight and hopefully I'll be able to get to some asks once my brain is no longer fried

Dwayne Headcanons

When he was responsible for Laddie, Dwayne would often take him out to the boardwalk whenever Star was busy. Sometimes he’d even choose to take him along even if they were with Star just to hang with the munchkin

If anyone told him he was too short Dwayne would hypnotize them into letting him one. He wasn't exactly worried about the kid being flung from the roller coaster, he could easily catch him if it happened. It felt awesome impressing him at the strength test, just watching him jump up and down as the attendant handed him a giant blue monkey which of course he'd give to Laddie. The boy was such a hyper, sunny child it was hard not to laugh when this spritely eight year old would play a water gun game and yell “this is a load of bullshit” when he lost. Well, he did grow up around four teenage guys, two having the worst language you could imagine. David used the word "fuck" like it was going out of style. At one point some lady in her thirties tried to lecture Laddie about watching his language, to which Dwayne had immediately stepped in after he said “piss off lady”. Again he had to choke back a laugh, pushing the kid behind him before this lady throttled him. To save face Dwayne feigned some half assed “shame on you” to Laddie just so she would piss off, and then ushered him away- for an ice cream sundae. Granted while he couldn’t condone a kid cussing up a storm, he did find it utterly hilarious watching this uppity chick squawk like a hen in outrage.

“Seriously though I don’t know where the hell you learned all that from-”

“Paul taught me.”

“Yeah, well, Paul probably isn’t the best guy to copy, kiddo. "

Chinese food isn’t his favorite, but he knows it’s Markos so he doesn’t complain when they have it at least once a week. Actually, his favorite is probably Hispanic. Many forget much of California was once Mexico, and as such the culture still thrived even into the early 1900s. Santa Carla flourished, and between pick pocketing gigs and heavy labor on the docks, Dwayne could always count on there being fresh tortillas for a few dollars after a long day. Elotes with extra chili powder, huarache, freshly brewed horchata on ice? Utterly delicious! Nothing can compare to freshly made tamales by a sweet abuela in a tiny food truck cooing to you in Spanish. Even he can blush when they pinch his cheeks gushing about what a skinny man he is. Paul and Marko love it as well and will often tag along when Dwayne goes to Mama Rosa’s, although he often has to elbow Paul in the gut because he’ll flirt with the cooks in the back into getting a free taco.

“Ay, Paul, mi angelito querido cielito, you’re skin and bones!”

“Well, I always skip a meal before coming here, abuela. Your cooking is too epic to have anything else in my stomach!”

“Dude, will you stop flirting with that poor woman before you give her a heart attack, you ass?”

Dwayne had a brother many years ago who was lost after being caught in direct sunlight during the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906. Since then on April 18th he holds a small memorial for his brother Jasper, who died pulling the curtains shut to shield them from the sun. Some years David, Paul and Marko will join him, silently drinking to their fallen friend. It's a rare moment of seriousness for these wild boys, sitting beside an altar crudely constructed atop a wooden crate, draped over with the jacket once worn by Jasper that survived the flames. Decorated in worn candles melted by decades of use, a bottle of rum from over eighty years ago still untouched with an empty shot glass beside it caked in dust and cobwebs, worn flowers shriveled into darkened husks, a glass of blood they keep freshly filled with each visit, feathers of birds to help carry him to the sky. Every time he adds something new, a gift from every era. Recently he brought Jasper a Def Leppard vinyl record, propped against a sketch of his brother drawn before his passing by an admirer who had died long ago. Paul left a little toy motorcycle for him, Marko brought an old pocket watch he found at an antique store that bore a striking resemblance to one he had admired long ago, and David brought him a hunting knife

“You would’ve loved hair bands, Jas. Everything’s changed now, its crazy. It sucks you never got a bike of your own,” Dwayne would say, sitting in the dark with only the tender flicker of candles brushing away the dark. Never again would he let the sun take him. It was the darkest, deepest cave in the hotel. And there, Dwayne spoke more than he ever does outside “Horses were cool, but it’s better to have something that doesn’t stop every time it takes a shit, you know?”

Unfortunately Dwayne sucks at video games. It’s not that he doesn’t get it, but he has the worst gamer rage. Now, Dwayne doesn’t often get legitimately mad, but when he’s been playing the same god damn stupid water level for the past hour and a half just to be killed by a squid-! Well, lets just say Paul practically dove to catch the controller before it was chucked at the tv, and cue a dirty look towards Dwayne for nearly smashing his “baby”. He wasn’t about to have him break ANOTHER controller. Yeah that wasn’t the first. At this point he’s content just watching from afar and sometimes back seat gaming when Marko is going the wrong way. He’s not nearly as bad as David who will openly call someone stupid after dying. 

Dwayne is definitely the type to nap after a long night. Truthfully he misses when he could just lay out in the sun like a lizard on a hot rock after a long day, it’d feel incredible. Instead he’s resorted to a hot water bottle or a heating pad. Yeah, he loves hot weather. Summertime is his favorite time, just savoring the toasted air blowing in his face on rides over the beaches. Sometimes he’ll try to wake up early to watch the sunset from within the cave, although it’s burnt him on more than one occasion he will still try to get a glimpse. Winter is the worst for him, he hates, absolutely despises the cold. Even though he doesn't technically get cold anymore, everything seems to die away in the winter leaving only twisted branches and grey skies. David may enjoy all that gloomy melancholy but not him.

One wouldn’t assume Dwayne to have much of a sweet tooth. That’s because they’re wrong. While he isn’t into the marshmallow caramel double candy bars deep fried and dipped in chocolate like Marko or Laddie, he has a serious weakness for chocolate. Like, a major weakness. Paul is still searching for his stash, tucked away somewhere secret in the hotel. Any time he thinks he’s close to finding it, Dwayne moves it again.

“Dude, sharing is fucking caring you greedy bastard”

“Get your own candy asshole, why do you think I keep my stash hidden from you guys?”

Now the whole hoity toity fancy chocolate isn’t what appeals to him. He can certainly appreciate a well made chunk of dark chocolate sprinkled with chili powder, but he’ll settle for a cheap bar snatched from a gas station. Most sweets weigh heavy on him, but chocolate is such a unique medium that can be changed into almost anything, appealing to every taste imaginable. Sweet, savory, spicy, bitter, semi-sweet, rich, dense, light. Chocolate cake, chocolate doughnut, hot chocolate, fudge, and of course the traditional candy bar. You make him a mug of Mexican hot chocolate and he is putty in your hands. You couldn’t necessarily bribe him with food. But you could certainly butter him up to suggestions when he’s crunching down on a candy bar. Paul knows this, and at this point Dwayne knows this guy has royally fucked up if he comes up to him with a stack of chocolate bars.

“Heeeeey, Dwayne, buddy, old pal, chum, lookie what I found, all for you man how cool is that?”

“....,” Dwayne glances up from his book at the handful of chocolate and slowly lowers it with a firm sigh. “What the hell did you do now?”

“Wha-Whaaa-? Oh! Okay, wow. Woooow. Offend much? I go out of my way- I mean, can’t a guy just, you know, do something nice for his best friend-?”

“Paul. What. did. you. do?”  

“Okay okay, well you see David made me go fill up his stupid bike, and there was this hot chick at the gas station, I mean perfect fuckin ten man, she had the biggest frickin tits- okay anyway! Well, next thing I know the keys are gone, the chick's gone, the fuckin bike- You gotta help me man he’s gonna fucking kill me and dance on my grave!”

Of course Dwayne will help… in exchange for twice the chocolate. Like I said, it won’t always work as a bribe, but it’ll certainly help your cause if you go in with some incentive.