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mariikado · 5 months ago

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Bookshelf in Good Omens 2. What clues to look for and what to pay attention to when reading each book.

And don't show this to Neil! And don't ask him about it!

Carefully! There may be spoilers here.

1. I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith.

The main character sits alone and writes a diary. There is also a very interesting love polygon in the book. At the very end of the book there is an interesting moment about the girl’s father, who writes his book in an interesting way.

For me, this was the answer to why Good Omens 2 was made the way it was: incomprehensible, confusing and with a lot of questions after viewing.

2. No Woman No Cry: My Life with Bob Marley by Rita Marley.

This is Maggie and Nina's book.

Look for the donkey, as well as the story of Rita's shooting. Notice what Rita says when she remembers Bob (he's dead, but he's everywhere).

3. The Crow Road by Iain Banks.

Not only discussions about God are important, but also the meaning of the expression “the crow road.” Notice the angelic goats dressed as ravens in the intro. Remember the story of Job, remember those little goats who followed the crow's path. Try to tie it all together.

And also pay attention to the meaning of matches. What do they mean for the story in the book and could they mean the same for our story?

Crowley recommends this book to Muriel not only because it contains a lot of discussions about God. He knows how important the matchbox is in the story, and he wants Muriel to know it too. Muriel must know that matches are the key to solving the mystery. At the very end of the second season, the story is just beginning to develop. The matchbox doesn't appear in the plot yet, but it will happen in the future, and Muriel must know in advance what it means. I think so.

4. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon.

A very interesting main character, with a very interesting perception of the world around him. I think this is a hint on how to watch Good Omens 2. The second season needs to be watched the way this boy looks at the world around him. He also has interesting thoughts, some of which may be important to our story.

5. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller.

I have identified five characters. One of them is a naked man (note the reason for his undressing), the second character experiences déjà vu and has strange relationships with colleagues, the third character will do anything for profit (even if he has to bomb his own), the fourth character is compared to God (note , what ultimately happens to him), and the fifth is not entirely noticeable, but wears fake glasses and a mustache. Find them all and analyze what happens to them and why, what their goals are and what consequences their actions have. Think about how this all fits into our story and who these five characters are like.

6. Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez.

Besides the wonderful love triangle, there are almonds to be found here. This is a small clue to the meaning of almond coffee. The character is a photographer with his secret love - I think this is also a small key to unraveling the mystery of Good Omens 2.

7. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath.

There are matches here too, find them. Try to analyze the thoughts of the main character. I still couldn't decide who this book belonged to: Aziraphale, Crowley or Muriel. I'm leaning towards Muriel. Although Neil said that Muriel may not be Muriel in season three. So Aziraphale or Crowley could become Muriel in the future. I still think it's Aziraphale.

The main character of this book underwent shock therapy, and this smoothly leads us to the next book.

8. 1984 by George Orwell.

If you still doubt that history is being rewritten within history, do not doubt it. This book is direct proof. I would also suggest that the shock therapy in the book is an analogue to the erasing of memory and reformatting of consciousness in our history. Then that would explain what I said earlier about Muriel. This book confirms all my previous theories and reasoning. Who, for what purpose and how many times rewrites history - we will find out in season 3.

9. The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler.

This book contains another clue to the mystery of almond coffee. The book also features a dead bookstore owner who photographed the character's real killer, who was illegally transporting alcohol. There is a little quote about how everything was planned in advance, and this quote is said during the kiss.

10. In this post I talked about the Bible: here.

But I forgot to mention Aaron's rod. This is another key to almond coffee. Read the story of how flowers grew from Aaron's rod and what it means.

11. The Great Gatsby by Francis Scott Fitzgerald.

Gatsby was a liquor smuggler, he loved a blonde and in the end he got shot because of her, don't forget that. This all dates back to 1941. So who's shooting who?

12. The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger.

To be honest, I have a hard time understanding why this book is on the shelf. The book could be there because of a guy who has a dead red-haired brother (yes, Crowley's brother or twin could very well be real). The book may be there because of the story of catching children over an abyss (the story of Job). The book may be there because of the description of the film, in which a guy loses his memory after a war (after the apocalypse, someone has to survive).

13. A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket.

I recommend reading this series of books and also watching the series. I think the books and the show together will help you understand who Sadie is in Good Omens 2.

Also look for snakes, zombies, anything related to crows, secret codes used by characters (Prime uses them too). Look for smart thoughts, there are many of them. Look for librarians, read about the secret society. We ourselves are a small secret society: we collect information bit by bit, analyze it and share it with each other. Everyone notices something different and everyone is right in their own way. There are many clues in both the books and the show. Feel free to draw parallels. There are even moments that are filmed very similarly in both series.

14. Herzog by Saul Bellow.

A difficult book. Lots of talk about God and faith. I relate this book to the character who will survive the whole apocalypse mess in season 3. Read it for yourself, maybe you will have other thoughts.

15. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

This book needs to be read from cover to cover. The whole story with the revolution and the French guillotine. Think about who those same revolutionaries in our history could be.

All moments with similarities between the two main characters, and also pay attention to the spy. Remember that Jane Austen is a spy. I still assume Jane Austen is Shax. In episode 4, Shax becomes Crowley; Before the stunt, Shax becomes like Aziraphale. Thus, in the dressing room there is a spy and two characters similar to each other (you can read about this here). There is a scene at the end of the book that may shed some light on what is really going on in the dressing room.

In the book you can also find a rose on the hat. Think about this character and the reason he put a rose on his hat.

Find this sign “👆” and its meaning in the book.

Find a seamstress in a book who walks hand in hand with someone very similar to the main character.

This book is on many posters in the hands of Aziraphale for a reason.

16. Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad.

Just read Lord Jim's story and apply it to our Jim.

17. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Jim is also in this book. And this Jim stole a treasure map from a bad pirate. We can only guess what Jim brought to the bookstore in our story: a “map of buried treasure,” a book of life, the power of God. What other options?

18. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Yes, there is a very interesting love story and more than one. A parallel can be drawn with both couples from the book. Jane Austen herself also plays an important role throughout the second season.

Read books, look for clues, superimpose season 2 on these books. This is the wonderful world of Good Omens - an incredible work and an amazing journey!

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cowboydisaster · 11 months ago

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* ˚ ✦ Compass * ˚ ✦

chapter one: La Belle Fleur Sauvage

pairing: arthur morgan x f! reader

word count: 7.9k

summary: modern au; Living out your dreams on a ranch in Colorado; Arthur finally proposes.

a/n: This is a little gift for @margowritesthings. I originally wrote this for you a year ago, but I've rewritten it for you for this christmas. xx

Arthur is nervous, his palms clammy as he pulls a Carharrt t-shirt over his head. The dark hardwood floor is cold against his bare feet as he slowly pulls his clothes on, layering up to defend against the harsh weather. You sleep comfortably in his bed, unaware of Arthur's absence from your side. He slowly approaches, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. You smile in your sleep.

"Gonna be a good day, darlin'.” He murmurs, pulling the white, fluffy blanket up over your shoulders before stepping out of the room, trying to keep his footsteps quiet.

The coffee machine beeps twice, notifying Arthur that the morning pick me up is finished. Two mugs sit by the machine, as always. But today Arthur doesn't grab his usual, opting instead for a travel mug. It's an old one. One that he'd gotten from some random bank event a while ago, "Strauss Financing" it read.

He'd used that bank to get a loan for the house and the barn. God– nearly ten years ago now, Arthur realizes.

The coffee is black and hot, steaming as it's poured into the mug. Arthur leaves the pot on for you before opening the door, and whistling in the direction of the bedroom. He can hear Copper jumping down off the bed, and then he rounds the corner, trotting towards Arthur and out the door.

"Hey there boy!" Arthur laughs and gives Copper a few pats. He's had the old vizsla about as long as he's had the ranch. Copper follows Arthur outside, happily trotting after the man. Everything outside is coated in a dusting of white. It's the kind of snow that looks like diamonds, where ice clings to the trees and rooftops, but the sun shines down, making everything sparkle.

When Arthur gets about a hundred feet from the house, with Copper circling around him, he stops and turns around. The log cabin stands proud before him, even after all these years. Arthur had built the place with his bare hands, just him and Copper.

The Colorado mountains stand proud behind the house, hues of purple and blue painting their cliffs, the morning rays of sunlight reflecting off of the snow on their peaks. When he looks at the slowly aging wood of the house, and the warm glow of the porch lights he can't help but smile. It's not the house itself that he is so fond of, it is what you have made the house– a home.

When the walls were bare, and the house was empty, save for the few pieces of furniture that Arthur could afford, it was incredibly lonely. He tended to the animals and worked on the ranch all day to avoid sitting alone in the house. He spent his evenings at the only bar in town, Pearson's Pub, drinking to forget and to ignore the empty house.

Things got better once you moved to town, working as a bartender. You warmed the man's cold heart. You were like a breath of fresh air in this old town. You still are. You managed to take his frozen, barely beating heart and melt it in the grip of your soft hands.

Arthur began to chat with you while you worked. After only a few interactions, he started coming in on the days he knew you would be there.

Then, one day, he offered to cook you dinner, and you accepted. Now, you lie in his bed, cozy and happy while he plans for the future. Funny, how things work out like that. All those years when Arthur was young, he'd hoped for someone to love. As an adult, he was content with his solitude, until you came along, of course. Divine intervention, you are.

Copper barks, stomping his paws in the snow, pulling Arthurs attention back to the present. The poor dog is probably cold. The nip in the air makes Arthur's cheeks and nose red, and his breath lingers in the air like a morning fog.

The truck isn’t far, sitting halfway between the house and the barn. Arthur shoves his hands in his pockets, shaking some snow off of his hat as he makes his way towards the old rust bucket. Snow and ice fall from the door frame as Arthur swings it open, leaning in.

He reaches across the steering wheel, jamming the key into the dash and turning it. He mutters a small prayer when the engine starts to stutter and hiss, but after a few seconds, it turns over. Once the engine is running, Arthur turns the heat the entire way up, setting the knob towards the windshield.

“Should be right as rain, now, huh, boy?” Arthur smirks, stepping down from the truck, shutting the door. Copper barks, running into the wooden barn where Arthur is heading, stalking the chickens, as Arthur slides through the wooden door.

He shakes the snow off of his hat, boots clicking on the floor as he grabs a few scoops of feed and dumps them into each horse's trough. Arthur greets each one, scratching behind their ears, patting their necks. He feeds, avoiding stepping on loose hens, until he reaches Boadicea's stall. A warm smile graces Arthur's face at the sight of the old chestnut mare. She brightens up at the man's arrival, and not just because of the feed he carries. Her head tosses as she whinnies for him..

“There's my girl." Arthur hums, dumping the feed, soothed by the sound of her chewing. Arthur scratches the underside of Boadicea's jaw, earning a slight whinny from the older mare.

"S’a big day today, y'know." Arthur releases a shaky breath as he strokes the mare's neck. Boadicea lips at Arthur's jacket, searching for treats that he doesn't have.

"I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

He huffs through his nostrils then, smiling as he pats the mare one last time.

"You're gonna be a part of it. I'm countin' on you, girl."

He then looks to the black quarter horse in the stall beside Boadicea. The horse has a star on his forehead, and a thick dark forelock that covers his eyes. When Arthur had gifted you the gelding, you'd named him Whiskey. It was both an homage to the bar where you met Arthur, and your preferred poison.

"Hey there boy. You better be good for the lady today, ya hear?"

He pats the horse who is hungrily lapping up his grain and then brings his wrist up to check his watch. The watch ticks quietly, showing the time as being 6:17am.

Arthur decides that the truck has had plenty long enough to heat up as he makes his way out of the barn, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. Copper has gone off, probably chasing birds in the woods, or attempting to play with the cattle. Once he's done playing he will come into the barn for shelter, at least until you wake up and let him back in.

Arthur's hands are tinted pink with cold as he opens the truck door, sliding in and shutting the cold out. The heat from inside the cab is nothing short of cathartic as it begins to thaw his frozen features, slowly melting away the ice and causing his nose to turn pale again.

Arthur turns the radio up a bit, driving down the long road towards the city. He tries to avoid Denver as much as possible. The tall, leering buildings are suffocating, reminding him of a very dark time in his life.

When Arthur's ma and pa died, he was placed into foster care. When he was twelve, he fought with the other kids, even beat a few nasty boys that were older than him. Arthur learned quickly that anger and aggression were the best ways to protect himself.

He ran from every foster home he was placed into, never having anywhere to go, just running. Arthur slept outside many nights, surrounded by vermin– both rats and people. He was spat on, cursed at, and kicked down by many of the people he encountered. It wasn't until he was fifteen that he found shelter- a home.

— — —

Arthur's feet pound against the pavement as he runs. The door remains open, swinging, as Arthur barrels down the driveway without shoes. The blacktop is rough on Arthur's feet, scraping and cutting into his heels as he scrambles, but he pushes through, determined to get away from the outskirts of Denver.

He follows the driveway until it meets gravel, avoiding it by running through the grass, into the forest. Tears stream down his cheeks, rough gasps for breath mixed with raspy sobs erupting from his chest.

Arthur bolts from yet another foster home– another abuser. He can barely see as the street lights get farther away, but he pushes on faster at the sounds of sirens. Sticks and rocks dig into the soles of his feet, but he continues, terrified.

In his hand, Arthur clutches a small bag, carrying the few things that remain of Arthur's childhood: his momma's ring, and a photo of her when she was young. His knuckles are white in their grip.

Horror trickles up his spine, sickness twisting his guts and making him sick. Tears prick at his eyes, threatening to send him to the ground

Did he just kill a man?

Disgust bubbles up in Arthur's throat as he searches around in the dark forest, looking for somewhere to hide for the night. Not far in the distance is a building with a light on outside, it appears to be a barn. Arthur tries not to think about anything as he stumbles towards the barn, feeling like he may collapse at any second. His arms are wrapped around himself, and he shivers as he parts the barn doors, stepping inside, sheltered from the cold winds.

A few animals grumble at the intrusion, but Arthur can barely hear them. His vision is blurry, breaths coming in quick pants as he trips. He makes it a few steps to a pile of hay, mind fuzzy and body cold. Arthur is exhausted and unable to breathe.

Suddenly his feet are falling away from him and he collapses. The impact is made softer by the pile of hay, but it still knocks the wind out of him. Arthur stares at his blood stained hands as they clutch his mother's things.

—

There is a shuffle. A door? Footsteps? They stop.

"My, my… What on earth do we have here?" A man says, his timbre deep enough to rattle the barn walls. Arthur's eyes flutter but he is not able to open them.

"Christ, Dutch– the poor boy's covered in blood, he can't be more than sixteen." A second voice chimes in.

Then Arthur is being hoisted into the air. He tries to fight, but slowly begins to lose consciousness again.

"Well take him inside, have Bessie and Annabelle fix him up… Once he's awake, we'll find out who he is, and.. what he needs."

— — —

Arthur thinks back on that time with distaste as his truck rumbles loudly through the crowded streets of Denver. Things got better after he found Dutch and Hosea. He stayed with them, working on their ranch for many, many years, and once he turned twenty-five the two gentlemen gifted him one hundred acres, enough to start a small ranch of his own.

Arthur sits at a red light, not far from his targeted destination. His fingertips tap the steering wheel impatiently as he thinks of that bag, his mothers contents inside. His stomach twists with anxiety. He hasn't been down this street in fifteen years. Muscle memory tightens his lungs as he pulls his truck along the street parking, brakes squealing before he pushes it into park.

Arthur sighs, eyes glancing up to the ornate, tall buildings before him. It makes his stomach turn. All this money poured into concrete structures when kids are starving in the streets.

He gets out the truck, straightening his shirt and jacket out of habit, before approaching the golden gate outside of the apartment building.

It's not long before he's in the elevator.

Arthur goes to knock on the ornate door, knuckles hesitating for a moment before rapping on the wood twice. It's the only barrier between him and the penthouse.

Arthur plans to make the trip as quick as possible. He’d vowed not to come here ever since the verbal assault had been thrown at him during an expensive dinner. He’d left in shambles, still young and naive. Arthur places his hands behind his back and pushes his shoulders back out of habit when the door swings open.

"Mary." Arthur acknowledges.

Her voice is soft, her southern accent spilling from her lips, "Arthur?” She seems worried, shocked. Her eyes scan him quickly, identifying that he's not hurt, “Is everything okay? Dutch? Hosea?"

"Yes Mary, everyone's fine."

Arthur takes note that Mary's father mustn't be home, and he instantly relaxes. His shoulders come down and his hands rest at his sides.

“Come in.” Mary says, opening the door, gesturing to the white couch in the middle of the living room.

Arthur hesitates at the door, but complies when she starts leading the way. Nothing has changed in all the years that he's avoided this place. The carpet feels the same as he walks across it. The couch dips under Arthur as it used to when he sits.

Mary sits on a chair across from him. The couch he's sitting on is far more comfortable than the one at home, but he prefers the quiet oak house compared to this busy modern apartment.

She looks to Arthur, her eyes curious. He hesitates, eyes unsure where to land– dancing between Mary's eyes and the floor.

"I-” He starts speaking and then stops a few times, before taking a breath, getting the words out, “I've met a woman…”

A pang hits Mary right in the chest, but she hides it well.

“Happened a few years ago." Arthur speaks low and quiet, his timbre is deep as he explains. Mary remains quiet and allows him to continue, eyes drifting towards the windows, mind caught up in memories that threatens to pull her under.

"She's a fine woman Mary, and… Well, I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Arthur looks up to Mary then, her dark eyes contrasting his own. She has a puzzled look on her face as she replies,

"Arthur, I'm happy for you, but I’m afraid I don't understand…? Did you come all this way just to tell me–”

“Mary…” Arthur whispers, cutting off her snowballing thoughts, redirecting her to the point that he is trying to get across without being harsh. Without demanding.

She stops in her tracks then, realization dawning upon her, “Oh. I see.” She smiles, bittersweet. Arthur can see the regret in her eyes. He is quick to ease the tension, leaning forward, trying to soothe the old wounds that Mary has yet to heal.

"I'm sorry, Mary, I am– that things didn't work out between you and I, but– it means a lot to me, and there's no other-”

Arthur is stopped in his tracks as Mary raises her hand to stop him, “It belongs to you, Arthur. She should have it, really.” Mary smiles sincerely.

She loves Arthur, though she'll never admit it. She loves him enough to let him go, to let him be loved by someone he deserves. Mary doesn't know you, but she knows that since he came here, for this– you must be deserving of his love.

Mary places her pale hand up, signaling Arthur to wait as she stands and disappears into the doorway towards her room.

Arthur fiddles with his hands, emotion bubbling up as he waits. This is the final obstacle. Once he has his this item back he will be able to give you what you deserve, and if you accept, Arthur will be the happiest man alive.

Mary rounds the corner, her lips pulling into a bittersweet smile, a few tears dripping down her cheeks. There is a small black box in her hand, extended out to Arthur.

His green eyes transfix on the box. The one he hasn’t seen in almost fifteen years. Arthur places his hands on his knees to push himself off of the couch, staring in disbelief at the old thing.

It is carefully placed in his hands, and he slowly creaks the lid open, staring. It's a gold band, with a ruby placed in the center, and intricately placed diamonds on either side of the gemstone. It’s the one thing he has that ties the man he is now, to the happy young boy he used to be- when he was good. It was his momma's. One of the only things he has left of her. Arthur closes the box, tucking it away into his pocket.

“Best of luck to you, Arthur.” Mary whispers, a sad smile on her lips.

“Thank you, Mary.”

The ride home is quiet, for the first half anyway. As soon as Arthur is out of the city, back on dirt roads, he switches the old truck stereo on. A familiar song is playing, one that's been bringing him quite a bit of comfort in the past weeks.

“Now I know the only compass that I need”

He smiles. One of his hands rests on the steering wheel, the other rests on his jean pocket. He palms at the box as he drives, making sure it doesn’t slip away.

“Oh, is the one that leads back to you”

His voice is deep, rumbling in his chest as he taps his left foot against the floorboards of his truck. He thinks of you, riding your horse, smiling, of your hair in a messy bun and you in his too-big t-shirts. He thinks of how you love him, with a passion and a fervor.

“Now I know the only compass that I need Oh, is the one that leads back to you”

He thinks of when you met for the first time, your fates tying together in ways you never could have imagined.

— — —

Arthur enters the old bar, same as he does most every night. It's the same bar he's been going to for fifteen years now. Contrary to some of the other fools here, he doesn’t always drink when he comes here. Sometimes, he just sits at one of the tables, drawing the scenery.

Arthur comes here to drown out the silence of the house, to get away from the loneliness that he refuses to admit is swallowing him whole.

Tonight, he walks around the tables that adorn the small place, straight up to the bar, sitting down in his usual seat. The place is busy tonight. Arthur assumes there's a game being played, or a rodeo on the tv, but he doesn’t ask. Plenty of patrons sit around the bar, most with women or men in their clutches. Laughter and the sound of glasses being slammed on the bar fill the air, and a neon light flickers on the wall.

Arthur is all too aware of the familiar atmosphere around him, and yet somehow, he misses the new bartender serving tonight. Typically Pearson himself is behind the bar, but tonight someone else is handing out drinks.

Arthur knocks on the bar once, eyes watching the TV in front of him, a bulldogging competition. Suddenly, a form slides in front of him, blocking his view of the television. He adverts his attention to the person blocking his view, and his eyes go wide.

You stand in front of him, smiling and whipping a bar towel over your shoulder.

“What can I get for you, mister?” You ask, wiping your hands against each other.

Your eyes twinkle like they're among stars, and Arthur is sure that he’s never seen a smile so bright. He doesn’t respond for a few seconds, basking in your beauty. Your hair is not tied up, and it falls down, cascading over your shoulders.

Your black long sleeved shirt is tight, clinging to your figure, but Arthur is caught up in your eyes. He shakes his head lightly before responding.

“Yeah, uh… Sorry– just get me the strongest drink ya got. Make it neat.”

Arthur's typical order is a bourbon on ice, or a beer, but tonight he's going to need something stronger. Everyone knows everyone in this small town, but you're a new face, and Arthur can already feel the singe of the hot brand, burning you into his memory.

“Coming right up.” You raise a curious eyebrow, wondering about this man’s choice of drink. With your interest piqued, you grab a rocks glass and a bottle of patrón, pouring a few fingers of golden liquid into the glass, sliding it across the bar.

“Have one for ya’self too.” Arthur tosses a bundle of cash onto the bar.

“Thank you, mister.” You smile, pouring yourself the same drink.

You eye the mysterious cowboy curiously, noticing the softness hidden behind his rough features. He is attractive, very attractive, with dirty blonde hair, and a five o’clock shadow that exaggerates the scars on his lip and chin. His eyes are hidden from you by a dark cowboy hat, until he peers up and you are met with the most strikingly beautiful, bright, blue-green eyes you've ever seen.

You have to look down to hide the blush that creeps up on your cheeks from being caught in the act of staring. If he notices your gaze, he doesn’t say anything. Both of your crystal glasses are set on the bar as you lean onto it with your elbows.

“You ain't from around here, are ya?” Arthur asks. You smirk. The ruckus from the bar seems to die down in your ears. Even your busy mind quietens as you focus on the peculiar man before you.

“Is it that obvious?” You laugh, “No, I'm not from here, just moved.”

Arthur hums, content. There's an amused sparkle in his eyes.

“How'd you know?” You ask, wondering what gave it away. What's making you an outsider? You moved here to get away, to blend in. Anxiety curls in your stomach at the thought of being found.

“Well, miss, you’re far kinder, n’ far prettier than anyone in this old town… Don't help that everyone knows everyone here. We don't come by new faces much.”

Your anxiety quells, cheeks blushing a deep crimson, and after a moment, you raise your glass slightly, angling it towards his.

“Well thank you kindly, mister.” You hum.

“Arthur.” He corrects, clinking his glass against yours, swallowing down a swig of the burning liquid. You cock your head, not tracking at first.

“My name's Arthur. Arthur Morgan.” He reiterates, and you smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Arthur Morgan.”

— — —

Your eyes flutter open slowly. The first thing that meets your eyes is the vase of purple flowers on your bedside table. The morning light hits them beautifully, reflecting off of their vase, refracting on the deep purple petals.

A wave of realization dawns over you.

Sunlight? What time is it??

You sit straight up in bed, eyes immediately seeking the alarm clock on Arthur’s nightstand. It reads 9:25am and your heart leaps into your throat.

“Shit!” You curse, swinging your legs out of bed, body barely covered by your cotton shorts and cami.

You feed the horses at 6am every day. Today your alarm mustn't have gone off. You feel terribly, knowing that the horses must be starving. You frown, hair messily falling around your shoulders as you hurry to your dresser.

A piece of paper sits on the mahogany, and you hesitate in your rush, placing your pointer finger on the paper and reading its contents.

Fed the horses so you could sleep in. I had to run into town real quick. Should be back before lunch. Call if ya need anything, Sweetheart. Coffee is hot in the pot for you and Copper is outside. - A

The panic leaves your chest, replaced with warmth as you pocket the note, pulling your slippers on as you move towards the kitchen.

Arthur is always doing this for you, taking on little tasks to remove some weight from your shoulders. Doing anything he can to ease your troubles. He knows that you've been crazy busy with work lately, as horse training always picks up in the winter, and he's been doing everything he can to help.

You hum a tune as you round the corner, hand trailing along the smooth oak wall. Your slippers are soft and quiet against the floor as you enter the kitchen, eyes trained to where the black coffee pot rests on the counter top.

You grab your clay mug, the one you'd made back when you were taking pottery classes, and you fill it with black coffee and a splash of cream.

Wrapping one arm around your torso, you move to the glass french doors in the kitchen, overlooking the barn and the pastures. You sip at your coffee, eyes slipping closed as the coffee wakes you up, the warm liquid heating down your cold bones. Your eyes trail over your farm, the brown and black cattle, starkly contrasting the snow. Snowflakes flutter past the glass as you watch the sun peeking behind a few pine trees in the yard.

Copper runs through one of the pastures, throwing a stick up into the air and then grabbing it in his maw. You can’t help the smile that graces your lips.

You head back towards your room, pulling out a pair of jeans. They hug your hips and waist, but leave room for your boots to lay under your pants at the hem. You pull on a long sleeved black shirt and your beige ranch coat before leaving your room and pulling your boots over your socks.

With one last swig, you finish the last sip of your coffee and set it in the otherwise empty sink before opening the glass door and stepping out into the elements.

You expect the cold to wind-whip your face, but it doesn’t. Instead, the sun shines down, adding some resistance to the cold weather. It causes the snow and ice to sparkle like diamonds as your boots crunch through the snow.

You push the barn door aside, heart humming at the warm sound of nickering horses.

“Alright. Who's up first?” You hum, looking to the chalkboard on the wall. It's outlined with feeding schedules, medication times and dosages, and your training schedule.

You find the designated box for today, seeing that today you'll be getting your work cut out for you. You're working with Doob, a seal brown thoroughbred, off the track, with more energy than he knows what to do with. His owners had brought him in for a bucking problem, one that you're already beginning to curb.

You make your way down the aisle until you find his stall, promptly grabbing his dark green halter and slipping it over his head.

“C'mon, boy.” You whisper, petting behind his ears, “You're just a big sweetheart, aren't you?” You chuckle as he nuzzles your palm. Of all the client horses, he's definitely carved a home in your heart. He’s a funny little horse, a character. You'll be a bit sad to send him back when you’re finished, but you know his owners will treat him right.

A short walk through the snow leads you both to the round pen. You leave him loose in the small pen, and he immediately starts running.

“Yeah, here we go.” You hum, cold biting your nose. You grab a green lasso from the fence post, moving him up with it, pushing him forward as he runs around the pen.

“Good boy.” You call, “Easy does it.”

Doob gets his energy out, running to his heart's content, wind flying through his long black mane. You just let him run, only correcting when he tosses a buck or kicks. After a long while of working, he eventually becomes tired out.

“That's a good boy, whoa now.” You cue, and he stops on a dime, turning towards you, walking into the center of the circle. Your head turns at the sound of a rumbling truck, and your eyes brighten at the familiar sight of Arthur coming down the lane.

“Good job, Doob. That's all for today. You go on and play now.” You smile, handing a treat out to the thoroughbred. He takes it happily before you remove his halter, letting him out into the pasture with the other client horses. He'll surely run off more steam out there.

A few snowflakes are stuck in your hair, and your nose is already turning red as Arthur steps down from his truck. You make your way to him, ignoring the chill in your bones, and leaning towards the warmth before you.

“Hey, baby.” You smile as he turns to you, shutting the door to his truck. Arthur smiles back, his hands extending as he grabs your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips are cold compared to his, and he runs his hand up and down your arms to warm you up.

“Shit darlin’, you’re froze. I was gonna ask if ya wanted to go for a ride but-”

His eyes go wide as you jump a little, gripping at his coat with your cold hands, interrupting him.

“No, I wanna go for a ride! I'm not too cold, I've got more clothes in the barn.”

He chuckles, his warm breath creating a fog in the air as he hugs you tightly. You've never turned down a trail ride, not in all the time you've known him.

“Alright, why don’t you start tackin’ up the horses. I gotta run in the house quick. I'll grab some food too. We can have a picnic.” His deep voice rumbles against your ear as he holds you in his embrace.

“Okay, I'll grab the horses. Oh- grab the chocolate, okay? The good kind. There's some in the cupboard above the sink.”

Arthur chuckles, “Sure thing, darlin’.”

You go to pull away from Arthur, but before you're fully released from his grasp, he gently pulls you back by the chin, catching you in another kiss. He hums against your lips, and you relax into him, allowing him into your mouth. He chases after the taste of you.

After a few seconds, another light peck– or two– you pull away from each other. When your eyes slowly flutter upwards, you see intense emotion in Arthur's eyes. Love.

Arthur loves you, and he always makes sure to display it, but he's being extra affectionate today, which has your eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” you chuckle, hands resting on the thick blue fabric of his wool coat. You look up at him with those sparkling eyes, and he falls in love with you all over again. The snow has made your nose pink and cold, and Arthur leans down to kiss it.

“Cause I love you,” Arthur pulls away, “Now, go tack up those horses. I'll grab us a snack.” you peel away from him then, shaking your head.

One whistle for Copper, and the orange flash is running down from the pasture. Then, he's at your feet, whining happily. The snow crunches and creaks against your boots as you lean to pet the dog, and you both look at Arthur’s back as he opens the door to the house.

“Your daddy’s actin’ weird today.” You whisper, curiously eyeing the blue coat that moves through the door. Copper barks, as if he is trying to explain, but Arthur had sworn the dog to secrecy.

You pet Copper before standing up and brushing the snow off of your knees. When you step into the barn,you’re immediately surrounded by the soothing smell of oats and hay. The warm scents envelop you, and wrap you up like the warmth of the barn.

By the time you have both Boadicea and Whiskey fully tacked up, Arthur is walking through the front barn doors. He pushes the door open wide enough for your horses to step through.

“So where are we ridin’ to today? Maybe we could trail down to the creek? It's beautiful this time of year.” You ask, pulling yourself up into the saddle. The cold leather sends a chill down your spine as you rub at your thigh in an attempt to make warmth.

Arthur shakes his head lightly as he climbs up into the saddle, “Actually I was thinkin’ we’d go on up to the overlook today…”

The overlook? You hum. Typically you and Arthur only go to the overlook for special occasions. The last time you'd gone up there was about a year ago. It's a special place.

You both had said your first admissions of love there, let the words pour down into the plains below. Your first kiss with Arthur was at the overlook.

But the overlook doesn’t just house good memories. You and Arthur had split up, briefly, a few years ago. The separation took place there. It’s a place of much love and heartache, it's you and Arthur’s spot.

“Okay, sure… It’s been quite a while since we’ve been up there.” You respond quietly, curiously. Anxiety swirls in your stomach, but you push it down.

You and Arthur trot beside one another, carried by your mounts. The air is chilly, but your heart is toasty warm as you and Arthur chat, laughing and smiling as you go. The ride to Horseshoe Overlook is a long one, and you make the most of the time as you and Arthur ride through the bright snow.

“I'll race ya cross’ this hill up here.” Arthur drawls, his lips ticking up in a smile as he looks at you from under the brim of his hat.

You eye the hill in front of you. It's open, probably over one hundred yards. The snow isn’t deep over the grass and it doesn’t appear to be slippery. Adrenaline seeps through your veins as you eye it, swirling and pumping through your heart, flicking the hairs on your neck up like static electricity.

“Alright then…” You adjust yourself on Whiskey, preparing to run.

“Get ready…get set–” You are cut off as the wind whips your hair and Boadicea starts charging forward. Your jaw drops and you watch Arthur barrel ahead of you. Quickly, you spur Whiskey and kiss and cluck to move him forward.

“You cheated!!” You scream loudly, trumping the sound of pounding hooves.

Determination sets in your bones then, and you lean forward, spurring the horse forward with every ounce of might in your body. Whiskey shoots forward until he is running side by side with Arthur’s mare.

“I don't play dirty, mister!” You yell in Arthur’s direction. Hooves are pounding loudly against the snow. The two horses are breathing heavily, each determined to win their own races. You see Arthur laugh, but he stops when you spur Whiskey, charging forward.

Arthur curses as you shoot ahead of him and Bo. Whiskey's hooves kick up snow as he passes, sending it flying into Arthur's face. It slows him down, giving you the advantage.

You and Whiskey run hard until you reach the top of the hill, and Whiskey slides into a deep stop right before reaching the tree line. After ten seconds, Arthur and Boadicea are at the top as well, stopping hard and breathing heavily.

“Dammit woman, you can ride, I'll give ya that.” Arthur pants, face wind-whipped as you ride up beside him and lean over your saddle to kiss him.

His lips are cold, as are yours, but the kiss is still alight with warmth. You grip onto the collar of his shirt, not releasing when your lips pull away from one another. If anything, your grip tightens on his collar as you eye him.

“I know.” You smirk, winking at Arthur as you pull away and canter your horse away from him, and towards the entrance to the overhang.

He watches you canter on, shaking his head.

“You are somethin’.” He jests, trotting after you.

When the trees break, you nearly gasp. Though you have been here a handful of times, it always steals your breath away. You can see the house and barn in the distance, separated from you by miles and miles of white snow. Evergreens stand tall, dusted white, with a few herds of elk at their trunks. You can see for miles, past the house and to the tall blue mountains far in the distance.

“So beautiful.” You murmur, eyes bright with wonder.

“Sure is…” Arthur whispers, eyes not on the landscape, but on you.

You hop down from Whiskey, patting him for his good work, and offering him the same treats that you'd offered Doob earlier. You always keep a few extra in your pocket.

You walk towards the cliff, keeping a safe distance from the drop. Your eyes flutter over the rolling hills and plains before you. Everything seems so quiet up here. Troubles seem so far away. Unique snowflakes slowly drop from the sky, dusting your hair and coat with white diamonds.

Boots crunch in the snow behind you, stopping just a foot from your back. You smile, but don't turn around when Arthur's chest presses against your back. One of his hands wraps around your middle while the other, unbeknownst to you, rests on the small black box in his coat pocket.

The serenity of the overlook envelopes your senses as you breathe in deeply. The cold air carries notes of pine and sap, familiar scents that comfort you.

“Love you, y'know.” Arthur hums, leaning down, pulling your hair away from your neck, kissing the soft skin under your ear. Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you turn in his embrace, chest to chest.

“You’re actin’ strange, Arthur. Are you feelin’ okay?” You chuckle.

Arthur exhales sharply, otherwise ignoring your question. Instead, he pulls you up onto your tiptoes, your boots on top of his as he kisses you.

You melt under his touch, kissing Arthur feels like your muscles relaxing after a long day’s work, like rain after a drought. Kissing Arthur feels like coming home. He's been kissing you all day, unable to pull himself away from you.

You pull away only for a quick breath before your lips meet again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, straining on your toes to remain in contact with his lips. Arthur pulls away with a bite to your lip, smiling when he sees how yours are plump and swollen.

The wind brushes Arthur’s hair into his face as he backs up, pulling you by your hand. He has placed a thick wool blanket on the snow for you two to sit on. You plop down on the blanket beside Arthur, your head resting on his shoulder. Your head rests on his shoulder. Heat radiates from the man, and you are glad for the extra protection from the cold.

“So what snacks did you bring, baby?” you ask, curiously peaking into the bag that Arthur has laid on the blanket.

“Alcohol.” He says plainly. You laugh, smacking Arthur in the arm as he chuckles.

“And your chocolates.”

“Arthur!” You chide as he hands you a bottle of golden liquid. You peer at the label.

It's patrón. You quirk a brow at the drink of choice. Arthur rarely buys the expensive tequila. Curiously, you pull the round cork out from the neck of the bottle and take a small swig. The alcohol burns its way down your throat, warming you from the inside.

You don't mind the burn, watching as a pair of pronghorn bucks fight in the hills below you. Their hooves slip in the snow as they each attempt to win their battle. Your hands numbly grip the neck of the bottle as you pass it back to Arthur.

You huff before you speak, “I can’t believe we’re here Arthur. After everything we’ve been through we can just… live now…” You pull your knees up, curling more into his chest. Your past hangs over you, haunting you like a dark cloud. Bit by bit, Arthur has been helping you to push it away, to heal and move on. Today is a good reminder of that progress.

His hands place the tequila in yours, and you down a swig.

“S’ like your readin’ my mind, sweetheart.”

You smile up at Arthur then, placing your hand on his stubble.

“Y’know this is the first place you told me you loved me…” Arthur says, low and quiet. You smile, the good memories filling your heart as Arthur continues,

“Also the first place I kissed ya… a lot ‘a memories up here.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, your brain is flooded with warm memories of Arthur and you in the overlook.

“C'mere.” Arthur whispers, smiling, taking a shaky breath. Your eyebrows furrow together. but as he stands and extends his hand, you take it. Arthur pulls you up, hands in his own.

The overlook is beautiful in front of you, serene and perfect. A moment he'd capture with a camera if he had one with. Whiskey and Boadicea watch on from the treeline, ears perked up. They know what's about to happen. Arthur's been telling them about it every day for months.

“I love you.” Arthur whispers, deep and serious. His eyes soften, and your heart begins to pump loudly in your ears. A delicious red flushes into your cheeks.

“I love you too, Arthur… but why are you.. what's going on?” Your voice is higher than usual, eyes sparkling bright with wonder, reflecting the sun and the white snow.

It isn’t unusual for Arthur to admit his feelings to you, but there are too many factors for this to be a coincidence. Arthur was ‘shopping in town’ all morning, but had come home empty handed. He brought you out to your special spot, bought you your favorite expensive tequila– and is treating you with such delicacy, and love, that butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Arthur huffs, letting out a humorous chuckle and looking up to the sky, projecting a short prayer, before he holds your hands a little tighter and begins.

“I love you more than I ever thought possible.” He looks away from you for a split second, staring at the ground, before anchoring himself in your eyes again, and continuing, “I didn’t think my life was goin’ nowhere before I met you�� I gave up in my twenties, said I wasn’t gettin’ attached to anyone.” Arthur admits, and you frown. You know about his past. You've talked about it, and now you're trying to show him how much he deserves to be loved.

“I stood by that for a long time…” Arthur's lips crack into a beautiful smile, a chuckle falling over them, “And then you stumbled along.” A single tear drips down his cheek, and landing in the snow below. Your eyes are threatening to overflow with tears of your own.

“Arthur…?” You whisper, voice cracking. He squeezes your hands reassuringly.

“You showed me what it felt like to be loved. And love ain't somethin’ I've felt in many a years.” Arthur pauses, gathering his words. A few tears trail down your cheeks, and Arthur’s thumb wipes them away.

“You make me want so much more outta life. You make me wanna wake up every day and work on this ranch, take care of these animals. You make me want a family. I wanna wake up n’ watch our kids playin’ from the window.”

“But what I want most in life? More than anything…?” A pause ensues, his loving, green eyes locked onto yours, “I want to be with you, every day, for the rest of my life.”

Arthur thinks back to the song he had been listening to earlier on the way home from the city.

“As long as my compass keeps pointin’ to you, I’ll be where I belong… I’ll be home.”

Tears flow freely from your eyes, and you gasp as Arthur reaches into his pocket, kneeling down on one knee in the snow.

He looks up at you, one hand still intertwined with yours, the other extending out the black box. Arthur snaps the ring box open, presenting a stunning gold ring to you. The band is adorned with a ruby, and several small diamonds decorate the sides of the gem. Your hands come up to your mouth, as Arthur looks up to you, smiling.

“This was my Momma's…” Arthur explains, and your eyes flicker down to his, “You’ve already made me the happiest man alive… and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you… So, would you do me the honor–” Arthur chokes up, “Would you marry me?”

He looks into your teary eyes, holding the ring box a little higher as he asks the question. You wipe the tears away from your eyes, sight locking onto the scene, wishing you could etch it into your memory forever.

Your head frantically nods, tears flowing down your cheeks as you cry tears of joy, “Yes, Oh, Arthur–of course. Yes, yes!”

Arthur smiles the brightest that you’ve ever seen, standing before you and slipping his mother’s ring onto your ring finger. The band fits you perfectly, and you marvel at it for a second before Arthur’s arms wrap around your waist. He lifts you up into the air, and you wrap your legs around his waist, laughing and crying, overcome with a happiness unlike any other. Your heart leaps with love and passion for the man in front of you.

His lips crash against your, wet tears dripping down your face as you kiss him. Your hands entangle into the hair at the back of Arthur’s neck as you both kiss, pulling apart only to breathe or to laugh. The kiss is deep, bodies singing with love, energy overflowing from the both of you. He keeps kissing you, over and over again, never wanting to leave the taste of your lips.

You pull apart, foreheads pressing against eachother's, his hands on your thighs, keeping you off the ground.

“I love you so much darlin’.”

“I love you too.” You whisper against him, the happiest you have ever been.

The ring rests on your finger as you kiss Arthur again, senselessly. The band of rubies and diamonds holds promises of a future, of a marriage and a life with him.

As the wind rustles through your hair, carrying your joy so far down the mountains that it can be felt radiating even miles away, you can’t think of anything you could ever want more than that promise.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur

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animalsalvationassociation · 17 days ago

Text

A.S.A. Octonauts Headcanons:

Pt. 3 – Peso:

[ This entry is not historically accurate to the areas mentioned. This is a rewritten/vamped fan version of lower Latin America in order to fit the narrative that I have created for this world. I have however tried to keep it regionally accurate to respect Latin America itself. ]

Peso Pedro Gentoo Perez was born in Ushuaia, the capital of Tierra del Fuego in Argentina.

He is the third born, with two older siblings and one younger brother. Pogo (Older Brother) and Piñata (Older Sister, lol I'm not judging I just wanna know how we got here), with Pinto being the youngest of the siblings.

Peso doesn’t have very many memories of his father (mostly trauma related) but he does know that when he was young his father was a factory operator. His father was in charge of overseeing not only the machinery but also the factory floor. Peso isn’t quite sure what kind of factory it was but it was good money and got his family through some very tough years.

His father unfortunately passed due to an accident at the factory involving a fire and several gas leaks.

He had gotten trapped underneath a set of cross beams when the ceiling collapsed and didn’t make it out before the entire building combusted.

His father was a kind man with a strong heart, and even in the circumstances he was in he did his very best to be a good person and take care of his crew.

The memory trauma I’m referring to is called Dissociative Amnesia or Traumatic Bereavement. When a traumatic experience (however powerful it is) happens (death, grief, abuse, war, or natural disasters), in order to protect itself the brain forces itself to forget.

Piñata also experiences memory lapses too but not on the level Peso does. Pogo is the only one who seems to remember enough, but he tends to shut away mentions of his father.

His mother Pricilla also worked. She was one of many nurses who oversaw penguin laborers, and although she never got a degree or went to school she was very well versed in the ways of medicine. This is where Peso learned his love of helping people.

She became a widow months before she laid Pinto's egg. After his father died several members of their family moved in to help take care of them, and they've lived there ever since. (Auntie Papita, Cousin Petina, Great Uncle Pepe, and Grandma Perdita)

Precilla would later remarry a king and very quiet sheep dog names Eriko (Mucuchies aka Venezuelan Sheepdog, born/raised in Venezuela but later move to Chile where they met.)

Peso has a large family.

During his childhood there were several epidemics that took out a large portion of the penguin/animal populace, so he’s very happy to have been able to keep his.

His family consists of several different species of penguins as well as multiple career paths, currently he and his two older siblings are the only ones to have had the opportunity to go to school, as well as their cousin Petina.

Of course Peso has very fond memories of growing up, especially with that family, but that’s not to say it was an easy childhood.

Even when Peso was young the community he lived in struggled, not only because of the epidemics but the working environments as well. They were known to be harsh, non-accommodating to the local populations (not just penguins), and overall low paying.

But back then work was work, no matter the pay. As long as you had a job, your family survived.

In those years even in some parts now, the lower areas of South America were plagued with factories and war bound organizations including the military.

Clear skies were few and far between as the air was constantly being pumped with smog, not only from the machines that were used but from the burning of blubber that kept them fueled.

When he was little Peso would go with his mother and the other nurses (some doctors would accompany every now and then, but hospitals were usually very busy) to visit the outer colonies. Sometimes even leaving for weeks at a time depending on how far they had to travel, or how affected the area was with sickness.

This of course, as I mentioned earlier, was how Peso learned to love medicinal practices. He would often claim that he would be just like his mama when he grew up, that he would do anything to help someone in need. And really . . . all he needed was a start.

Peso was roughly thirteen when the Animal Salvation Association (The A.S.A.) began to make efforts to aid communities like his. Sending peace treaties and resolving conflicts through pacifism. Because of these efforts his community began to change and kids like him were now able to go to school and receive education.

It was only when Peso learned about the “Thermal Adaptor Armor™ or T.A. Armor™ ” that he was able to realize his dream of becoming a doctor.

T.A. Armor is a body suit (Created by Lwazii Ntuli) with the ability to regulate internal body temperatures in countered climates. With this suit, warm/cold blooded creatures will receive proper fluctuating temperatures programmed to keep their bodies at the proper condition in order for them to survive.

Peso worked hard to learn and adapt to this new style of teaching. Spending years of his young life applying himself to his studies as well as any medical knowledge he could find. At seventeen he applied for his first internship in a schooling program created by Professor Theodore A. Inkling dutifully named “The Future Ahead.”

With his hard work he graduated early, and it was only when he applied for the Harbor Grove Institute a very sought after university within the United Kingdoms that he earned the attention of Professor Inkling himself, who just so happened to be the headmaster at the time.

Peso made the bravest move to travel all the way to the UK, and with the money he was able to earn working several jobs through the A.S.A.’s new programs, he was able to afford not only the suit itself but the tuition as well.

During his second term Professor Inkling sent him a scholarship that would carry him through the next two years.

He of course took the opportunity with great excitement, and finally Peso was given the advantage and he worked hard to keep it.

Peso was just a week from graduation when Professor Inkling offered him a spot as a Medical Officer for the Octonauts, and he’s been there ever since.

It wasn’t until Peso joined the Octonauts that he was able to really use his skills. Most of his experience came from helping his mother (now retired) in the field, while school only taught him the book stuff.

Note: The first season of the show really highlights Peso’s learning process. He’s naturally caring but because of his lack in field training he’s very hesitant to do things unless it is an extreme medical situation. He holds himself back, but through the caring nature of his team you really get to see Peso shine and find confidence in himself.

Fun Facts:

Fav. Gup obviously the Gup-E it's literally an ambulance.

Fav. Fish/Ocean Creature . . . probably the Snot Sea Cucumber, I mean let’s be honest here, we see Peso’s true form whenever he makes “s-not” jokes. Although a close second would probably be the Humuhumunukunukuapwa’a.

Peso comes from a very musical inclined family, he of course plays the xylophone and maracas (although I think he would also be ✨ magical✨ at the guitar, hopefully they make guitars Peso size because otherwise I might die from laughter) while the rest of his family varies in other instruments including singing/dancing.

Peso slept with a nightlight the first year of college, after that he felt comfortable enough where he didn’t have to use it. It’s only when he joined the Octonauts that it manages to slip into his belongings. 💙😭💔

(Peso could cure cancer if he wanted to but then he’d be out of the job . . . you know it’s true)

I’ve said this before . . . so here’s an excerpt:

I would love to be at one of their family functions

Just imagine someone’s Quinceanera!

Or even dinner at Grandma’s

Yum 🤤

(Yes I realize Grandma Perdita lives with them but STILL)

Every Sunday the crew gets to make video calls to their loved ones to check in and Peso makes sure to call his family at a certain time on the dot. If he doesn’t, his mother and Auntie Papita have been known to frantically call the Octopod thinking something is wrong.

It doesn’t help when there are actual emergencies but Peso and the crew can’t help but appreciate the concern.

Peso is an advocate for good health. (duh lol)

Everyone gets a monthly check up on the octopod (some more than others *cough, cough* Kwazii).

He is constantly making sure that everyone is getting the rest they need every night as well as keeping a constant eye on the Vegimals’ meal plans.

He also cares a TON about mental health.

That was one of the major practices he looked into before joining. I feel like he’s the type to research until he’s literally run out of every book/search engine in his possession.

I think a huge part of that research would have something to do with documentaries. Not so much psychology itself but actual examples from first hand accounts.

Ex: Astronauts, Ocean Explorers/Scientists, Team Dynamics within research groups, etc., etc.

He wants his team to be healthy in all aspects, so in a way I think Peso (Dashi may fall into this category too ngl) would become the group “therapist”, aka the shoulder to lean on when things got rough.

He actually does this very well and I know that the team would benefit from someone being the listening ear. Especially Barnacles and Kwazii.

Peso would be an amazing cook, and to be completely honest with you I think the only reason the Vegimals know how to cook is because of him.

Like I’m sure the others can cook to a certain extent like Dashi, Tweak, and Professor Inkling. Although Inkling is more of a baker as well as Barnacles, but Dashi and Tweak have at least some family recipes from when they were growing up.

I don’t trust anyone else. *cough, cough* Shellington and Kwazii (aka the only ones left) . . . I mean it’s not for lack of trying *sweats in memory of a pirate related foods*

Lastly I’d like to say that I am seriously impressed with Captain Barnacles in this series. He has helped Peso so much in becoming the truest version of himself. Having him step in instead of others (like Kwazii) and allowing him the chance to make decisions without his help.

I think it also goes to show that even in those moments, Barnacles is always there. Not just because he’s protective, but because he knows Peso can do it, and he’s really only there in case Peso needs a reassuring paw even when he’s far away.

A great example is the Vampire Squid episode.

Barnacles gives Peso the opportunity to test his abilities in a dark and albeit very scary place. He and Dashi are constantly monitoring Peso’s movements to make sure he’s okay but they don’t do anything until he has the chance to reach out.

When Peso shows that he needs help the captain allows Kwazii to go first. He knows Kwazii is capable of deterring any true dangers, knowing that he’ll make sure Peso is safe and has control of the situation.

And yes I do realize that Kwazii crashed the Gup-B, but I mean it wasn’t actually his fault . . . for once. (He just gets excited when he sees his friends, so he tends to shout and scare every fish in a ten mile radius away)

Captain Barnacles only comes after Kwazii has crashed, and he wants to make sure that they’re alright. But when Peso shows that he wants to step up and go at the rest of the mission alone Barnacles lets him. Leaving him with a reassurance that if he needs anything they’ll be there waiting for him.

Just the amount of faith that he has for Peso is truly touching. He is so proud of Peso and so supportive.

(Sorry that’s the end of my rant. I just needed to add some Barnacles appreciation to this post. MEOMI and BBC really gave us the perfect trio, I’d be lost without my boys.)

The Perez Family:

Mateo (Father) / Precilla (Mother) / Eriko (Step-Father) / Pogo (Older Brother) / Piñata (Older Sister) / Peso / Pinto (Younger Brother) / Auntie Papita / Petina (Cousin, Papita’s Daughter) / Great Uncle Pepe (Perdita’s Brother) / Grandma Perdita (Precilla’s Mother) / Rocko (Cousin) / Uncle Robert (Rocko’s Father) / Auntie Rachel (Rocko’s Mother) / Ooju (Cousin) / Uncle Oscar (Ooju’s Father) / Auntie Olivia (Ooju’s Mother)

–

(Not me sleeping in till 3, forgetting to work on this because I was so preoccupied with drawing Y/N & Fae, pausing the video I was watching halfway through only to panic at the time and rush this . . . well I wouldn't say it was rushed. I started at what? 7:30?? And it literally just hit midnight?? Anyways happy sleeping, I'm gonna hate myself when I have to get up at 9 for work.

Hope ya'll enjoyed the Peso content! I've had this backstory in mind for a while and now I finally get to share it. I think Barnacles' second headcanon is going to be a half post as in, that one is going to be more about his adult life and I may end up posting two headcanons that day. We'll see.)

Kwazii / Captain Barnacles ( 1 / 2 ) / Dashi / Tweak / Shellington / Inkling

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

#octonauts #octonauts above and beyond #octonauts the asa #octonauts story #octonauts peso #peso #peso redesign #peso penguin

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