#He's a lil jerk

[cosmicwhoreo]

And then the crew cheered. (based on a tag I saw for him)

Albatross has a very dominating and authoritarian rule over his sailors that's masked with a sickly sweet if not passive aggressive energy. They follow him regardless, mostly because despite his behavior, their vessel is cruise ship levels of luxury that they keep with the valuables they steal.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike and Michael meet their younger selves..

[allastoredeer]

I honestly feel the same when it comes to fics with top Lucifer, I want that bias and anger he has towards sinners. It makes the RadioApple feel like, “ugh he’s the worst kind but I want him” lol. I want to see an exploration of that, especially when it brings not only conflict with Alastor but with the other members of the hotel.

Like what if let’s say Angel Dust starts to open up about his experiences and Lucifer makes an upsetting/insensitive comment that’s offensive or something. This could also put him in hot water with Charlie, especially since her dad is insulting her friends.

Me personally I like switch or don’t mind who’s topping/bottoming because I enjoy the top Alastor bottom Lucifer\top Lucifer bottom Alastor dynamics, because of how talented and creative the author/artists are. It’s basically the two cakes meme situation for me.

However I’ve been craving to read a bad guy/jerk Lucifer fic, like there’s a lot of Alastor in the villain roles but not Lucifer 😔 Lucifer is the strongest being in hell, so having him as a antagonistic role would be so cool, cause how you able to defeat a being like that especially if they are obsessed with you?

EXACTLY!!

I love top!Lucifer with bottom!Alastor, and the added bonus of Lucifer having to come to terms with developing feelings for a Sinner makes it so, so good. Alastor isn't the only one struggling through his own thoughts, bias's, and insecurities.

We already know Lucifer is chock-full of all of those, and I wanna SEE IT. I can see Lucifer making a casual making an insensitive comment. I mean, in the "Dad Beat Dad" episode, he met Angel, Sir Pentious, Husk, and Niffty Charlie's hotel, they didn't do anything to garner any immediate distaste (except maybe Niffty being her creepy lil self LOL), but he still grouped them in his comment that "all Sinners are bad and irdeemable."

I can see him making comments like that, where he casually lumps the Hazbin crew Sinners with all Sinners when he's talking about them negatively. He may not realize he's doing it, but he's doing it all the same, and it can be hurtful.

Haha I'm glad you enjoy both cakes XD May your feast be never ending 🙏

Gosh, I want a bad guy/jerk Lucifer fic SO badly. You're right that Alastor is the one who usually gets the villain role, which is just...eh.

I mean, he's already made out to be this evil, maniacal, untouchable guy in the show, for the most part. I like it when fics go in the exact opposite direction and lean into his human side. The parts of him that he tries to keep hidden away, but they still bubble to the surface over time, and everyone (him included) is given the startling reminder that he was once, indeed, human.

I do have an idea for a radioapple fic that includes a dark and obsessive Lucifer, it's just a matter of getting around to it T.T

[derelictlovefool]

❝​🇪​​🇲​​🇪​​🇷​​🇬​​🇪​​🇳​​🇨​​🇪​🇪​​🇽​​🇮​​🇹​​🇮​​🇺​​🇲​-⦂❝

— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧.

Notes: Miniseries my ass—Don't forget to read Part One, Two and Three! Are you ready for Wade POV :) Typical Meta and fourth wall breaking ahead. Wade gets his action sequence and reader gets some mild trauma but they're cool about it.

Warning/s: Canon Typical violence, kidnapping, graphic depictions of violence, decapitation, blood and gore, unhealthy relationships, angst, explicit language, hospital mention

Words: 4k

Wade was like a gargoyle, the personal gargoyle of your shitty little apartment elevator. Stone still in the back with his arms crossed and head down—no one else daring to step into the cramped space with him anytime the doors opened. He'd been in there for the better half of the afternoon, going up and down the floors at the will of others button presses but not working up the guts to step onto your floor. Part of him hoped the doors would open and you'd be standing there, make the decision for him and pull him out of it or step in with him so you could both ride the hellevator of your relationship problems together.

The problems that he wasn't stupid enough to ignore were all his fault.

He was pissed, pissed at himself, pissed at the fuckers who got him into this mess and most of all pissed at the author for putting you two together and giving him a chance to fall so fuckin' badly in love with you. These guys never gave him a break in the love department and if he ever got his hands on them he'd shove their keyboards and pens right up their asses—It was the plot's fault that it hinged on the breakup trope, he and you the unwilling puppets strung along to amuse and entice whoever clicked on the title in their fanfic scroll.

The doors to the elevator opened and your building's security guard, Rich, stared back at him, nervous and tired as all hell. Any other day Wade would have been happy to see him. But right now he wanted to decapitate anyone who didn't have your simmering eyes, he just wanted to see you.

"Heya Wade, uh, people have been callin' the office about a thug in the elevator. Think you could uh," He gestured to the front door of the building and Wade would have tossed him out of it himself had he not soon followed up. with the fact you weren't even home. He froze, hand slapping on the closing doors and shoving them open as he barged out of the elevator.

"Where the fuck are they then?" He snapped, a sudden fear and fury overtaking him as he gripped the guard's uniform tightly. The one time he offered you some privacy and didn't follow you home of course something fucking happened, it was just his damn rotten luck. Rich trembled under his masked gaze and tried to lean back as far as humanly possible.

"I-I have no idea! Didn't come home last night, just assumed they were with you!" He yelped as Wade tossed him to the side, storming out of the building with homicidal intent rolling off of him in waves. A kidnap plot—his favourite. Note the sarcasm. He fumed as he hopped into the car he'd parked on the curb, not his, he didn't own one—he was borrowing this one. Indefinitely. He sped off, at first he was too blindsided by his anger to know where he was going but as it began to simmer realisation bit into the back of his skull like a sneaky bullet.

The fuckwads from the gig. The ones that said if he didn't behave like a good doggy they'd pop a cap in your pretty skull—He should have taken the risk and taken 'em all out Keanu style when he had the chance. But he got preoccupied by, well, you, and trying to get you as far away from him as possible. He was scared, plain and simple. Out of everyone he couldn't watch you get hurt because of him—ironic as he hurt you all the same. Maybe even worse.

After a hasty u-turn and aggressive tapping of coordinates into the shitty GPS Wade put his foot on the gas; his grip on the wheel tight enough to bend the metal beneath the silicone protection. All of this, all of the pain, the nights alone and the nights watching you cry while watching your comfort movies—all of it for nothing! The same song and dance he'd been avoiding was playing out all the same. He scowled, cursed the hostage-for macguffin-trope and promised himself he would not sit through any monologues or negotiations. He was getting you out of whatever crusty basement they had you in and taking you home and then when he had you back; he wasn't letting go.

You could hate him, throw things at him, the whole lot; but he wasn't leaving your side ever again.

He couldn't handle it even when it was self inflicted, fuck whatever your therapist said about it. Fuck whatever anyone else said about it. He needed you, more than he needed oxygen—and back in the day people called that romantic, not unhealthy or concerning.

A wire fence gave way as Wade swerved into the shady, abandoned apartment complex lot. The car sputtered in defiance as he drifted to a stop in front of the building. They knew he was coming, if they didn't they were idiots. He jumped out, heading to the front door, he wasn't going to give them a dime or a batted eyelash but he didn't have time to sneak in the back. He needed to see you were okay and if there was even a hair out of place every mother fucker in this building was going lights out for good.

The doors creaked open, his heavy steps reverberated off the walls and the prior chatter died into bated breaths. When he rounded the corner into a large open room his sights zeroed in on you immediately, tied to a chair and eyes burning with fury and panic. Blood dripped from your lips and anger flared within him before he noticed the guy beside you on the floor clutching the bloody place where his ear used to be. Oh shit. Said ear stared back at him from the puddle on the floor by your feet and he had to admit, he was impressed and dare he say, a little hard.

He wished he could've seen that.

Fuck you were awesome.

"Are you waiting for something?" You asked him, voice strained as you ignored everyone else in the room; eyes solely on Wade. You had no doubts he was getting you out of here and that made his chest swell with some emotion he couldn't quite place. Pride? Love? All of the above?

He titled his head up, noting the faded tune of 'Hit the Road Jack' coming from another room. Oh good, a backing track. He tapped his foot and nodded along for a moment as he lifted his hands, guns were on him—and you, and he chuckled. A low and dark rumble that left the room feeling colder than when he walked in. These chucklefucks had no idea how bad of an idea that was. But they would find out.

"Alrighty sluggers, you ready to dance like monkeys while I take you down in nasty ways for the author's lil action sequence?" Confused looks were shot his way and quickly dismissed as he grabbed his guns in a smooth motion. Shooting two of the guys closest to you, the bullets whizzing through the air and nailing them both in the same eye. Blood and viscera smattered the wall as their bodies went down and you winced as some of it got on you. Whoops.

"Sorry babe." He sang, receiving an unimpressed and somewhat disturbed glare from you. Yeah okay, not funny, he got it.

Wade moved on to the guys nearest to him, neither fast enough to dodge and one got a nice fat bullet to the lower jaw; ripping through skin and cracking through bone as it cut through him like a hot knife. His body fell into the guy behind him who shrugged him off with terror in his eyes. Wade loved it when they got all squirmy, made him all tingly and warm inside. It was fun—for him, anyway. The other guy got a lovely little bullet to the nose, the cartilage shattered and the middle of his face bloomed like a red rose, his body flying back until he landed on the floor looking like a Francisco Goya painting.

What was Wade if not an artist and his weapon's his tools?

Shots began to fire, none from his gun and Wade got started on the left side of the room, swerving past a baseball bat before kicking it into the air and smacking the butt of his gun into the guy's nose. Blood squirted all over the front of Wade and he didn't flinch, sheathing one gun to catch the bat and toss it across the room at one of the guys taking shots at him. It hit him square in the face, breaking his shades and it knocked him back far enough that he tripped over a chair. Wade turned back in time to knock away a punch from the guy now bleeding profusely from his bruising nose.

"You look like you just watched a naughty anime buddy, you should really be careful because the guys upstairs can see everything in your search history," He grinned at the utter despair and confusion on the other man's face, taking even greater pleasure in headbutting him and kicking him back into three of his buddies.

Two other guys ran at his side and he dodged and weaved, shooting one in the kneecap and pulling out one of his swords; decapitating the other guy in a swift motion. As his head rolled off of his body, blood and bone and muscle spilled over the floor and Wade shot the screaming man in front of him in the head. Brain matter coating his boots much to his chagrin, he pulled a face no one could see and tried to shake the shit off of him.

"Nameless bad guy number five got his brain goo all over my boot, gross."

"Wade!" Your voice cut through the pandemonium, followed by a cacophony of gunshots and Wade felt his body ripped open at multiple points. It hurt, it always did, feeling the shrapnel dig into his muscles and the bullet skid past his bones. The ones that hit his fun zone were always the worst and he made a show of bending over and groaning unhappily. His one good feature just got turned into swiss cheese. Again.

He looked up at you, making sure the fire show was reserved solely for him and there was something about the worry in your eyes that stirred something within him. You still cared, even if he wouldn't die you cared that he was getting hurt. That was something. More than enough.

He pushed himself back into action, sword swinging and cutting a guys arm off, gun lifting and blowing a guy's junk into oblivion—the howl of agony a nice backing track to the slowly fading in 'If I could Turn Back Time' by queen Cher herself. Maybe this was it, the big show that he was willing to go through hell to get back to you. Once he'd finished off these guys and untied you, you'd throw your arms around him and he'd get to whisk you off into the sunset. He smiled as he kebabified mister one arm and mister no junk in one go, their bodies tossed to the ground by inertia as he slid his sword back. He spun across the bloody pool of a floor, right into the path of a knife that twisted into his abdomen painfully—but he was too lost to his daydream to give a fuck.

He tucked his gun under the guys chin and blasted his brains out with a boyish glee, sheathing that gun as well to rip the knife out of his gut and toss it into the head of the guy who had the gall to leave the fight and start running toward you. It landed in his temple, slotting in like a perfect tetris piece and his body fell by your feet. You flinched and closed your eyes, rearing Wade back into reality somewhat. Now wasn't time to be playing, you absolutely weren't having fun so neither could he. Double time.

The last two guys went down with fierce efficiency and Wade cleaned off his sword in the crook of his elbow, sliding it back into its place as he rounded the back of your chair.

"Are you—"

"Just get me the fuck out of here Wade." Your words were sharp even though they were quiet—shaky. Wade shut his mouth with a clack of teeth. His jaw tensed as he cut the ropes on your wrists with his tactical knife and freed you from the chair. You didn't jump into his arms, more like fell limply against his chest in exhaustion as he picked you up. He could see scuffs on your skin, dried blood and scratches that made his blood boil. He'd come back and do some unspeakable performance art with these bozos corpses later, if only to make himself feel better for not being there to stop them getting you in the first place.

Having you back in his arms cemented a few things to him, cradling you to his chest and feeling the rise and fall of your own reminded him of so many nights where you were fast asleep next to him trusting your life in his hands. Something not one other person ever did, which was wise, really. But having your arm over his shoulder and knowing how you'd been so sure of him saving you; he needed that. In the world of people that saw him as a failure of a human being who was only good at killing and nothing else he needed you, who had always seen him as something more. Something that could be good, even when he did everything to prove you wrong.

He took you to the hospital despite your protests and stayed by you as they checked you over and patched you up, he threatened each and every one and you scowled and told him to shut it each and every time. It was almost like old times except you looked fatigued and sad and he was rougher and angry. When you were good to go Wade tossed around a few bills and walked out the front door hot on your heels, it was only when you started walking in the opposite direction of his car did he reach out to stop you.

"Wade—" You let him turn you around but you kept your feet planted in place and his heart twisted as your usual facade of anger had melted away into utter sadness and confusion.

"You just got kidnapped and you wanna take the bus?" He asked and you shook your head, but still didn't move. A beat of tense silence filled the space between you before you shrugged and laughed roughly, his hands hovered; wanting nothing more than to hold you again and ward off that blanket of hurt covering you.

"Were those the guys that shot you into a black hole?"

You didn't look at him as you asked and he slowly nodded.

"Yeah. I skimped on my end of the bargain and they thought they could get back at me, I'll take care of it, you'll be okay." He tried to sound reassuring, but his whole being was the opposite of that word. He would be making them all go away, that wasn't a question and he knew you wouldn't doubt that. As soon as someone went after the people he cared about, the list being very short and easy to find, they weren't destined to be in this plane of reality for much longer. They all joined the pile of the dead nameless characters only put in place to show off his wicked skills and mad devotion.

Of which he had entirely too much, he felt like he could burst at the seems from all the feelings inside him specifically labelled with your name. How could one person consume him so wholly? He had never figured it out and he doubted he ever would; despite the obvious inclination to wonder if it was the puppeteer playing him the feelings he felt were far too real and too deep to just be shrugged off as some shallow dialogue. You and him, right here and now, you were real and what you made him feel was real.

And right now he had a whole lot of fear.

You shook your head and turned away from him again, a humourless smile on your face that was hard to look at. Wade watched on carefully as you wrapped your arms around yourself and felt his arms fall to his side.

"I don't think I will be," you looked back at him, "I don't think we will be." That was the opposite of what Wade wanted to hear. He played through the scenario where he threw you over his shoulder and put you in the car, driving you home and ignoring everything you had to say about it. He tried to figure out if being with you and having you actively hate him and trying to get away from him was better than letting you go and getting the small moments of less than stellar small talk or worse; total silence.

Both sounded like garbage.

"I want to go home Wade."

"Then get in the car." He gestured back to the lacklustre scrap of metal and you shook your head, a small action that felt worse than the bullets that had ripped through him earlier. He felt his frustration boiling over, he wanted to rewind time and take back all of his stupid mistakes and all the angry words you'd thrown at each other the last few weeks. He just wanted you. He swore you still wanted him too.

"I can't."

For a moment Wade just stared at you, long and hard as you stepped away from him. He really felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place and definitely not in a good way. The worst way possible actually. He racked his brain for what to do and grovelling and being honest seemed the only way to move forward that didn't end in you running away from him for the rest of your life. As much as being stupid or aggressive would have been so much easier, he had enough brain left to realise that's how he ended up here in the first place.

"I can't lose you." He hated the way the words sounded so fragile in his mouth, he wanted to bite his tongue off as soon as he said it. You looked just as surprised as he was by him saying it and your mouth fell open as you failed to put together a reply. He watched as you pulled yourself together, the small physical cues he'd mesmerised showing him you were trying desperately to keep up the wall that had been slowly building up. But he wasn't gonna let you hide from him, not now.

"You already let me go, Wade."

He knew that, the reminder stung and he shook his head to rid himself of the flashes of your pained face, the tears he'd seen you shed when you thought you were alone.

"I fucked up, I'll wear that. I fuck up all the time and I'll keep fucking up but I," He sucked in a deep breath, holding his hands out to the side as he stepped forward, "I love you. You are the only good fuckin' thing in my life and I thought as long as you were okay and happy I could live without you, but I can't." He gritted out the words one after the other. God he hated this genre, he always ended up sounding like a wimp. But he wasn't lying, the only time he'd ever lied to you was when he told you to get lost on what had slowly become one of the worst days in his entire damn life.

He wished he had just told you the truth, he'd been getting pretty good at doing it before but something about seeing a reticle trained on you with a little red dot shook him hard to his core. He could disarm a guy in under a second but a drone with more than one controller was another matter and it had just wrecked him, his progress, his resolve; all of it. For that one second he'd lost you and then in the next he really did lose you. But it was in a far worse way as you were still walking around and breathing; just without him being able to be there breathing in that same air.

God this fucking sucked. Relationships always sucked, people were too complicated and he hated feeling how he felt right now. Utterly hopeless—the one guy in the world who could survive a nuclear bomb head-on couldn't handle a simple fucking relationship and like hell he knew how to salvage it in the wreckage he made. But he had no choice but to try and you weren't walking away. So he had to try, even when you didn't want him to.

"I'm always going to love you Wade," that was never a good start to a longer sentence, "I need time. I think we both do. Our relationship was never gonna be normal but there's a little unconventional and then there's our personal, hellish little train wreck that we got stuck in." You gestured between the both of you and Wade sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"Please don't make me keep going with the pathetic grovelling babe please, the author sucks at writing it," He whispered, a half assed attempt to skirt around the heaviness of the conversation. He wasn't good at this, he never had been. Class clown extraordinaire whose way of dealing with conflict was stabbing pencils into eye sockets struggled with relationship talk, go figure.

"Wade can you be fucking serious please, no bullshit." You stressed, stepping forward and he nodded quickly, matching your step with his own so you were only a foot apart.

"I'm sorry, you know I ramble when I get nervous."

"Fucking hell," You groaned and covered your face with your hands, inhaling deeply before dropping your hands and seemingly giving up the fight for now. He was grateful because he wasn't really sure how much fight he had left in him. Well, for you he couldn't fight for eternity, fight with you even. But man it would wear him out.

"Okay just. You have a raw fucking moment with me here and I'll let you take me home, are you actually gonna do anything different or are you gonna sweep everything under the rug and hit me with the same shit in another two years?" Your question is valid and Wade mulled it over as he thought about what you might be looking for in terms of a change. His behaviour was never gonna get any better, neither was his potty mouth—but yours was no better so it wasn't that. He lifted a hand to hold the back of his neck, to think but also to pluck out the bullet that was starting to itch like hell.

"You want couples counselling or whatever I'll do it, I'm gonna be me about it but I'll sit the full hour. The quack might not make it but—" He waved his other hand in the air as he rattled off the one possibility he could think you'd like to hear and you were quick to follow up, a light full of hope flickering behind your tired eyes.

"And you'll talk to me? The next time shit hits the fan in a scary way you'll trust me enough to tell me instead of calling off our two year relationship with gross ass insults—which fucking hurt, by the way." You crossed your arms over your chest and Wade had never nodded so fast or so hard in his life. He jumped toward you like a man running from fire into the arms of a sexy fireman; except he was holding onto your arms and no one's feet were being whisked into the air—but still.

"I will—and i'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it, if that helps," The author didn't even write it so good luck getting him to remember what he even said. All he knew is that it was bad and left a terrible taste in his mouth, a mouldy taste that lingered and clogged up his throat. You didn't lurch away as his hands rested on your forearms but you didn't lean into him like you always used to, it was some uncomfortable thing in the middle that made his skin prickle uncomfortably.

"It doesn't…" You roll your lips into a thin line before sighing and moving your feet, slipping your arms out of his hands and each step lead you back to the shit box Wade drove you here in. A small win, one he'd gladly fucking take right now.

End notes: Some movie!Wade seeped through here, I cannot deny a good backing track for a fight sequence, writing it while listening to those songs was an absolute blast—let me know if it was as fun to read as it was to write! As always, see you in the next one!

[cheesecake-clown]

Dear GGG I need to go because mom has blocked this website on my fone with screen limits may I give you all a. Hug before I go bye bye?

"...Thisssss is what you get. Itssss never happening."

[neverendingford]

skyglow:

(alternative title: photo dump of a midnight desert run)

[pixelatedraindrops]

yuma kokohead: certified sopping wet cat 🐈‍⬛☔💦

[dogbunni]

do u guys think nendo is a 5-in-1 body wash shampoo kinda guy or a separate shampoo conditioner body wash face wash exfoliation king

[rush-the-stars]

suddenly thinking ab yuuji and megumi and how they’re both so into you and sorta get jealous of each other but in a weirdly sexually frustrated and messed up way where they end up having intense and offputting sex w each other until they can have it w you. it’s still intense and sorta offputting w you too btw.

[emtearzz]

Chuuya doodle before bed <3

[allmyandroids]

Dutra cake appreciation post 🍑

[wingsofhcpe]

Aramis does what now in 20 years after?!

I literally cannot make this up! He's literally like a shark: if he catches sight of blood, you're done for

[goldpilot22]

Your tags on the sacrificial virgin post make me want to know everything about your OCs, especially this Ivy Rose! What's Ivy Rose like? What story holds them?

ok so! Ivy Rose Lohaun is from my story Red Eyes Take Warning, which is..... a lot. it's actually an in-universe comic series in my Eldritchverse setting, and it starts out as a parody of those generic isekai mangas, before gettting Weird as the author is unknowingly long-term exposed to eldritch horrors a little bit.

I don't have any proper art of Ivy Rose but here's what I do have... most of the RETW characters were inspired by ai gen images (*BACK WHEN AI WAS A WEIRD EXPERIMENTAL TYPEA THING) so this is his

and also this is an Arknights au version of him (he is not normally snakeboy)

and I am still sort of figuring out his lore but what I've currently got is that he inherited some sorta really rare special powers (according to my notes he is a witch, something different from mages. but I think I'm going to make it specialer than just that) and there is some sort of curse or prophecy on his family, that anyone born with those powers will die in some circumstances, and trying to evade this always results in things going really bad (possibly involving said powers?) but the curse/prophecy/whatever is vague enough that when he transes his gender, it manages to fulfill the prophecy / neutralize the curse / whatever.

anyway most of that is kind of just background lore, his actual role in the story is that. he starts out as a 'girl' in disguise as a guy (he is closeted/eggmode at this point) and under the name Lohaun he joins Gavin's party (Gavin is the classic isekai hero guy. he's also just a massive jerk) to go adventuring and stuff and also to get away from the gilded cage of richgirl life. then he gets 'found out' as a girl (this is a trope that happens sometimes where the 'crossdressing' character gets found out and then goes back to their 'real' gender like they're fine with it. I don't like this trope very much so he's like a deconstruction or subversion or smth of it.) and briefly tries just going back to girlhood, before deciding that, actually, he'd rather be a guy. so he tries out a couple different combinations of gender terms + presentations, before eventually settling on using he/they, presenting femininely, and using his firstnames and his surname interchangeably. Gavin, being the asshole he is, at first is disappointed by Lohaun deciding to identify as a boy (because the rest* of the party is sort of harem-adjacent, as tends to happen in these isekais)but then they're like "well I'm still pretty and here so does my gender really matter that much" (they don't want him to ditch them) and so he's like "alright I guess I'm 'straight with an exception' now"

*that is, the rest of the party except for 1. Emery (too beefy for Gavin's tastes, as well as too aroace and autistic to fawn over some asshole guy) and 2. Enzo/Elodie (it is 10 years old.)

[assless-chapstick]

BABY JOHN HEADCANONS

not like baby baby but like he's MY baby yk? my babygirl as a baby before he was babygirl when he was a little baby boy

• When the gang gets John - cuz let's be real, they get him the way one gets a puppy or a case of smallpox - he's fresh off that attempted hanging. It was more of a lynching than anything, an impromptu eye-for-an-eye killing after John shot a feller with his own god damned gun. What made a twelve year old mad enough, scared enough to kill, and how'd he manage to grab the guys gun? Kid won't say

• kid won't say much of anything, really. The gang had a disgraced doctor running with them at the time, a guy so hooked on his own cures and tinctures you wouldn't trust him to diagnose a hole in the head, and he said the noose had crushed John's larynx. Sure, the boy can still talk, but it ain't ever gonna sound the same and for the first lil while it'll be hard as hell, but he should be able to. So why don't he?

Doc says maybe the lynching, lack of oxygen to the brain made him go daft cuz just look at him, ain't a thought behind those eyes.

But Dutch, he has faith, he knows.

I think just the fear and trauma after the incident sent John to a pretty rough place and he went nonverbal for a space of six or nine months. Not right after, maybe, but in the following days and weeks - enough they got a name out of him, an age (he said 12 but he's got the stature of an eight year old, not nearly enough meat on his bones), a little bit of a story. "Where's your daddy, boy?" Dead. "And yer mama?" Dead.

• John was always told his ma was a lady of the night, knocked up on accident and dead in childbirth. He came out with the cord around his neck and his ma bled out before they could even untangle him.

There'd been a picture, though he'd never had the courage to ask his father about it, drunk and angry as he was. A young woman with round features and hooded eyes, long dark hair parted in the center and braided, his father's hand resting gently on her shoulder, both posed like a portrait.

(john is métis/mixed indigenous and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead fuckin hands)

• in the winter john is so small and skinny he gets too cold at night and Arthur begrudgingly is like "FINE you can share with me" and so they share a bed until John is like 16 fjjfbfbf way too old to be sharing but imho John is a bit of a late bloomer and sort of, not a mamas boy but just kind of a baby yk?? Arthur is like "dontcha think it's time you got your own tent or something?" and John's like "No." and just walks away and Arthur is like "AT LEAST YER OWN COT??"

• john is reptilian in his search for heat he just wants to be warm ever since they got him he's crawled into Arthur's jacket whatever chance he gets

• during that first year especially, John was clingy and strange.... after a particularly terrible bathing experience (Susan is great but she's fastidious about personal hygiene and if water goes above John's navel he starts to freak) Arthur is just posted up by the fire with John sat between his knees, tucked into his jacket as they sit in silence mutually brooding... and John reaches up to rub the stubble on Arthur's jawline as a way of like, stimming n self soothing and Arthur would stop him cuz it's weird but he feels those boney little shoulders loosen and John says something, and he never says Anything so Arthur knows it's a big deal... so he just let's John keep doing it after that

• Susan is highly against taking in a child when they first bring John around - maybe because she thinks the main childcare duties will fall to her, or because she doesn't trust the gang to be a safe place for a kid - and this manifests as a little bit of short-temperedness towards him. it's not unusual, she's kind of a Bitch on the best days, but she's cold towards him at first... and I don't think anything Happens, per sé, no big event, just over time she sees he's a damaged boy in need of mothering and that's a part of herself she tried to kill a long time ago... but he brings it out of her. She nags him to cut his hair but brushes it out for him anyway; she'll share an apple with John if no one's looking, peeling it and quartering it and sneaking him a piece. She'll complain about the food - "God this stew is terrible what's in it? Rat meat? Here John, you finish it" - because sometimes good food is scarce and he's a growing boy and she sees his hungry frame, remembers how he used to steal and hoard food in the early days. They almost always have enough but she wants him to have more than enough. She reads to him, and then when he's learned to she gets him to read to her. A damp cloth on the forehead when he's laid low with fever, maybe a soft lullaby if she thinks no one's around...

• at age 12 John has a smoking habit. I don't know if this is unusual for the era or not and I dont know what the gang thinks of it but the kid loves his tobacco

• in fact John rolls his own cigarettes and, when he's young, that's primarily how he earns his keep - those tiny little kid's hands did a great job and he ends up getting the chore foisted on to him from everyone fndbbdf ( prerolled cigarettes had been invented only 7 years prior)

• at agw john also unfortunately loves to drink. I don't know if this was unusual for the era but I'm sure Hosea and Susan and even Dutch had something to say about it

and I think that's all I got in my head for now fellers.... thanks for reading mister....

[shadowsandsunset]

My sister doesn't understand.

This grown, masculine man is my babygirl.

How is this confusing for you?

[convxction]

ooc. Let me tell if you got a chance to ruffle his hair and you don't take it ...what are doing? What are forking doing? You are missing out. Just forking do it.