#his first time with marvin is his first time... in general

[bluebellhairpin]

Arthur Morgan X Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a reputation, and Arthur is sceptical. What was once scepticism soon turns to annoyance. Then, surprisingly admiration, and from that - something even more, but not all things are meant to be. (wc.5.9k)

Warnings: Guns. Making out. Arthur is insecure and a nervous wreak but hides it well. Sort of angst ending. Reader is fem body coded (pronouns used are she/her (probably), is referred to as 'wife' + 'woman'), and a bounty hunter.

Listening to: 'Wandering Star' by Lee Marvin - "Wheels are made for rolling, mules are made to pack. I've never seen a sight that didn't look better looking back."

Masterlist || AO3 link

Arthur could remember vividly each time he went out on a job with you.

You - a bounty hunter who occasionally crossed paths with the gang - with a rather bad reputation for things going wrong. Or at least from whatever stories others who’d joined you collecting bounties told. It took Arthur a while before he himself met you. Tales of your mishaps were all second hand, mostly from Sean - he often wouldn’t shut up about you for a few days after a job was done.

However, the other side of your coin came with a good reputation for getting hundreds worth of dollars in each haul from a job (either from a bounty or from something else on the side because the bounty went sour). That kind of reputation was something most in the gang, notably, did not have. Which meant no job with you, nor the idea to use you as a money bag, was ever turned down.

The first time Dutch had sent him to find you in need of money had him groaning down to his toes in want of literally any other job. (By then, Sean’s, the single most annoying person in camp, stories of how horrible you were, and the bullet wounds other’s returned with spoke for themselves, so Arthur was not looking forward to meeting you.) He found you off somewhere near Wallace Station, then you offered to take him on a job north of Valentine.

Off the bat you seemed nice enough despite the preceding reputation, so he agreed.

It sure as hell helped that you were the prettiest woman he’d laid eyes on since his heartbreak with Mary Linton. When you rode ahead of him he almost couldn’t take his eyes off you. From the way you did your hair, to the way your silhouette looked in the sunset - you could’ve made a fox forget it was chasing a rabbit.

In Arthur’s opinion, it all went superb - to a point. Arthur had no idea why the other’s made such a fuss about you. The ride up to the location was no trouble at all, in fact you asked him if he wanted anything from the Valentine general store before you’d even left the town, and stayed rather quiet since aside from some mandatory small-talk. It was like you knew he liked a peaceful ride when he was going to a job.

The two of you got to the job, some farm with one too many dogs still wandering around, and he instructed you to stay put while he went in to grab the bounty - some sleazy man who was on the run for messing with saloon workers one too many times. He said it twice, just to be safe.

“Stay here, stay hidden, wait until I come back unless I give you a signal.” You looked at him funny - in hindsight it was probably a look of disbelief - then asked him what the signal was. His stare was hard, but so was yours. Really, again with the gift of hindsight, he knew he should’ve questioned your look, but he didn’t - and it bit him in the ass. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

In fact it was all going great until he screwed up. Not you.

Figures.

Then the job lit up like a stray cigarette in a hay barn. The people in the house woke up, the guards woke up, the fucking chickens woke up. Bullets rained down like biblical hail and brimstone, and where were you? Arthur was stuck behind the barn, warding off shots as he made ones of his own, and past behind his enemies he saw you standing at the top of the road.

Your silhouette was hard to make out, but there you were - standing in the middle of the road with the moonlight behind you, one hand on your cocked hip and a cigarette setting a glow to your mouth in the other hand. He ducked back behind his cover, cursing Dutch and himself, and you - he clearly needed help and where were you?

He reloaded his gun, spending too much time uncharacteristically fumbling with the bullets and grumbling about how you’d gone on a smoke break, being useless while he was in trouble.

“Get on cowboy.” You said from right behind him - apparently he'd spent a long time cursing and reloading. He looked up and there you were, a jump of a fence away on your horse with Boadicea in tow.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked, securing his weapons down so he could bolt over to the fence and climb onto his horse.

“Waiting for your ‘signal’ - which you still haven’t given me by the way.” You said as you looked over your shoulder at the sound of more gunshots.

“I could’ve used some help there, y’know.”

“Looks like you were doing just fine t’ me.”

“You are…” He hummed, shaking his head once in annoyance, nudging Boadicea into a trot.

“Hey, I brought you your horse and am currently performing a very clean getaway. No one's hurt, so no complaining yet.”

Yet?

Arthur didn’t know how much he liked your usage of that word. He felt his wariness was very justified - even with how you’d lulled him into a sense of false security.

“And if you’re gonna act like the big boss on a job which I gave you, you deserve getting your ass handed to you for a while. No sympathy from me.”

“Oh so that's what this is about, you wanted to wear the pants.”

“It’s not too late for me to shoot you and take all the money myself, don't sass me.” You said, hat catching in the wind as the cord caught around your throat. He watched as parts of your hair broke free from your face and he smiled in disbelief. The balls on you - he could only say one thing in reply.

“Yes ma’am.”

When you returned to Valentine, you told him to stick around. ‘Repay him for the trouble’ you’d said. By the time he’d come outside his hotel the next morning, you’d appeared from around a corner and handed him a small satchel full of cash.

Apparently you’d conned some wealthy gentlemen who were passing through the Valentine saloon and they’d left drunk in the early morning completely unaware of their empty pockets. Not to mention you’d returned to the same farm Arthur had run away from to collect the bounty yourself, and had handed the horse thief into the sheriff an hour earlier. When you mounted your horse and said goodbye, he found himself staring a little too long as you left.

Arthur ended up returning back to camp at noon with a few hundred dollars to donate to the camp box (and that was after he’d split it all with you). But an unwarranted feeling of needing to go on another job with you was also present on his person. He chalked it up to nothing more than curiosity - rightly so. He didn’t believe himself to be the smartest man in any room, but he was smart enough to figure out that you didn’t put forth much effort at that homestead, not compared to what you could’ve. Especially after what you’d done to ‘make it up to him’.

He’d told you to sit and wait, so that’s what you did even though you didn’t want to. He’d expected you to come to his aid when he got into trouble, but you didn’t. You were being petty - because of him - at the cost of his safety. It was rather ballsy of you to have so much confidence that nothing would actually happen to him while you were proving your point, but then again you’d only met him a day prior. And very clearly it wasn’t because you weren’t capable of helping - considering you did it on your own.

Teaching him a lesson at his expense wasn’t something you were particularly worried about, after all you wouldn’t exactly have been weeping over his death if he had been shot anyway.

Arthur next met you by mere chance. He’d been sent into Saint Denis with a few others to grab some supplies, all incognito-like, and had some time to kill before they all had to head back. Sean dragged him off to one of the Saloons, and who else did he recognise taking up space at the bar but you.

It’s not like he committed your back to memory on purpose during the time you spent together. He just had a knack for putting names to faces, and finding people in crowds. That's all.

He tapped the counter, dropping sufficient payment for a shot of whisky on the polished wood, and slid in the bar stool beside yours. He quickly dropped his hat onto his knee, ran a hand back through his hair as if that would make him more presentable.

“Fancy seein’ you here.” he said, capturing your attention. Your face morphed from mildly irritated to recognition, and your lips quirked up in amusement.

“Arthur Morgan?” you breathed.

“It’s the only name I got darlin’.” he said, and you clapped him on the shoulder, hand firm and stronger than he would’ve guessed. He was more surprised at how friendly you were, but maybe that was just what alcohol did to you.

“As I live and breathe, here I was thinkin’ I’d only ever see you again on wanted posters.” you mused, a pretty and sly smirk creeping onto your lips, “Say, you’d fetch a nice bounty over in Strawberry last I checked. Made me think I shoulda brought you in when I had the chance.”

“Hey now, no need to be so forward, at least buy me a drink first,” You laughed at his dry delivery, and he took a sip from his drink to push aside the thought of how nice the noise sounded coming from you.

“What’re you doing in Saint Denis? You don’t strike me as a ‘big city’ kind of guy.”

“Well I ain’t. Needed a few things. Needed to socialise the younguns.” He said, gesturing at the latter part to the red headed Irishman across the room who was talking up a working girl. “They can go feral if they don’t get proper human interaction often enough.”

Your eyes drew to the same place he gestured, and you hummed into your glass.

“Wish I could say I knew what you meant, but I don’t.” you said, scratching your jaw. Arthur found himself mirroring the action, and stopped as inconspicuously as possible. “Ain’t got no youngins myself to wrangle.”

“You’re lucky then.” he said, turning back to the bar as you sat for a few moments without a word passing. He noticed your glass was empty, but you were making no effort to get it refilled. “What’re you doing in the city then?” He bated, hoping you took a bite and gave him some more time in your company.

“Catching the late train to Annesburg.” you sighed, face turning sour as if it wasn’t something you were looking forward to. “Some man I’m after is makin’ himself hard to catch and word says he’s hiding out in some abandoned brothel near there. It’ll be my third time tryna pin him. Guys getting on my nerves.”

“Do you, uh,” he coughed, “Would you like a hand?”

You looked over at him, and he left the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at how you were looking both at him and right through him all at once.

“Your ‘youngun’ will handle without you for a few days?”

“Oh yeah, Sean doesn’t really need me, he can find trouble all on his own, no problem.”

“That’s not what I meant.” you chuckled.

“I know.” he said, downing the rest of his drink and fixing his hat back on his head. “What time’s the train leaving?”

You’d both collected your horses from the train carriage, and the sun had just started to rise. Arthur was tossing up as to whether he should help you onto your horse, but you’d already flung yourself onto your saddle by the time he worked up the courage to turn around to offer.

As you started to ride, he said your name, trying to strike up a conversation.

“How far away is this place?” He asked.

“‘Bout an hour or so south.” you said, flicking the rim of your hat back to look at the sky. You sniffed, and tipped your hat back down. “Should be there before the rain sets in.”

Arthur frowned, and nudged Boadicea into a stride next to yours as you made your way out of town.

“Sky’s clear, it won't rain for a long time yet.”

“Yes it will.” you smiled, “Sunrise says so.” He grunted, not willing to pursue the matter further, and let you ride a few paces ahead of him. He’d find out soon enough if you were just talking nonsense or not.

The ride, again, was quiet with the alcohol in your system having worn off on the train overnight. And you were correct about the rain. ‘The place is just up this hill.’ You’d said, and then a crack of thunder rumbled behind him. By the time you’d both reached the old caravan, the clouds had made way to a misty rain.

“You grab the door, and I’ll cover you.” you instructed, dismounting your horse. “The guy’s as fast as a rat and quiet as a snake. Keep your guard up.” He watched as you told him what to do - seeing you pack on yourself two revolvers and a shotgun.

“Sure this guy ain’t Houdini?” You tilted your head, confused.

“Whose ‘Houdini’?”

Arthur then remembered you probably hadn’t seen that same sideshow magician act he did - if you did that sort of thing at all. He wondered if you would like to.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Arthur quietly made his way up the stairs, past the poor soul who’d been left to rot on the chair beside the door, ready to open it and catch whoever this man was. He’d barely cracked the door open before you were there with both your revolvers raised, baring your teeth at whoever was inside.

You said the bounty was fast, but how quickly you’d managed to pin him with the aim of your gun had him wondering. If you were that fast, how fast was the guy you’d been chasing?

“Sit down. I won’t hesitate to put a few ounces of lead through your bastard skull if you don’t.” Arthur was almost tempted to take a seat himself, with your tone turning as deadly as it did - the only thing that stopped him was the fact that ‘bastard’ was a bastard he knew.

“I can assure you, madam, that my parents were very much married and in love when I was born. But please, can we talk about this -”

“- I’m done talkin’! We’ve had plenty of time to talk!” You barked.

“Trelawney?” Arthur asked, stepping into the caravan to see the Englishman there on the bed.

“Mr. Morgan!”

“You broke my nose! Twice! That warrant’s zero sympathy from me!” You said, then - and Arthur watched as it happened - your face morphed from clear anger to confusion, your arms going lax as you did so. “You know this guy?”

“Know him? I’ve had to save his sorry ass about ten times from bounty hunters like you.” Arthur said. Josiah scoffed, hands at his sides with his palms to the ceiling - he was ready to start smoothly talking his way out of the situation (again, no doubt) - but neither you nor Arthur were really paying him any attention anymore anyway.

“Did you know it was him here?”

“Naw, I swear I didn’t.” he replied, “Wouldn’t have let you pay for the train if I knew it wasn’t gonna be worth your trouble.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” you scoffed, holstering your guns and then placing your hands on your hips - they’d cocked to one side, and he had to internally slap himself to meet your eyes again. “That man’s been a bother of mine for weeks - I coulda been earning hundreds if it weren’t for chasing him all over the five closest states!”

“I have to applaud you there ma’am, I have not had a peaceful night’s rest since you’d been after me. You’re like Death himself. But if it’s money you’d like I do know a place that can make it worth your while.” Josiah said, now much louder and closer. His hands found both yours and Arthur’s shoulders - which you shrugged off very quickly with a glare to match. “Not hundreds, but thousands. You’d make the best pair to pull it off.”

“Does it include breaking your nose? Twice?” Josiah let out an awkward noise, laughing off your serious comment.

“I’m sure we can re-negotiate that in the future, for now though, shall we?” He gestured to the door. You sent a final look of uncertainty towards Arthur before leaving the caravan in a huff. “Quite the lady you have there, my friend.” Josiah said quietly into Arthur’s ear.

“Shove off Trelawney.” Arthur said, making his way out to you and your horses with Josiah in tow. “Did you really break her nose?”

“Twice.” he nodded.

“Bastard.”

You’d had a sour look plastered to your face the moment Josiah pointed you in the direction of a dress boutique. Hands were still fixed firmly on your hips above your guns, and your feet likewise looked like they were moving just as slowly despite Josiah pushing on your shoulder.

“No.” your head shook, “I’ll play an actress all you like, but I ain’t gettin’ stuffed into no fancy-pants puffed sleeved ball gown.”

“It doesn’t have to be a puffy dress, it just has to be a dress.” Josiah said.

Arthur stood a ways off, deciding it was safest to give you a wide berth, smoking a cigarette. He’d already been conned into a new suit - vest and pocket watch included. Apparently Josiah knew it was going to be easier to get Arthur to bend to his will, hence why he was corralled into a tailor’s store first.

You were proving to be much more of a challenge.

“I have dresses, I wear dresses - I don’t need a new one! -”

“- A nice dress.” Josiah interrupted. Your mouth stopped wide open, and slowly closed as he continued. “One without stains, or notably mended stitches - and with a proper hem!” Apparently that seemed to shut you up.

You cast a glance at Arthur, eyeing him up and down - if he had to guess, you were gauging how dressed-up he was and translating it to what that could mean for you. Josiah lent over, whispering something in your ear. He saw you visibly bristle, before sighing with a roll of your eyes.

“Fine,” you said, mumbling as you pressed your hat firmly on your head, “But the corset better be a good one.”

Now Arthur was wondering what Josiah had said to get you to give in.

Arthur thought you looked very pretty. Not that he would tell you.

The dress Josiah wrangled you into was fancy - but had no frills or puffs (not to Arthur’s untrained eye anyway), or lace and jewels sewn in. It was as basic as a party dress could get, yet you wore it well. Very well. Something about you made it look like it was a fancy dress. Apparently blue was your colour.

“Corset good?” he found himself asking without thinking. He wasn’t thinking about you in a corset, or just a corset, or without a corset. He wasn’t a pervert, he was just trying to make conversation and it was the first thing that popped into mind. Arthur could tell his internal struggle was making him stand awkwardly, but you, bless you, didn’t even seem to notice.

“It ain’t digging in anywhere,” you started, slipping a hand into the crook of Arthur’s elbow as you lent down to adjust something with your shoe. “I have no idea how but this Trelawney of yours knows how to pick ‘em out.”

Arthur felt himself bristle. It had been a long time since he’s had a woman on his arm, let alone when he and they were both dressed up so. If anyone walked passed they’d think you were a couple. Lovers, courting, married - the last one made Arthur’s brain completely stop and reset for a moment. But he was getting ahead of himself.

Aside from knowing you were a fantastic gunslinger, had a cool attitude, a fierce angry face, and the prettiest set of eyes he’d ever seen (lord above, he spent recent nights dreaming about your eyes), he barely knew you. The way you made him feel like he was twenty-something and untouched by heartbreak had to be coincidence - like he said it had been a while, and you were pretty, but you both had a job to do. He had no time to act all sweet on you.

Not when he had to pretend to be your husband.

“I have my ways of knowing,” Josiah said, appearing on your other side as you began walking down the street (he offered his arm for you to take also, but Arthur felt your hand grip his bicep tighter as you stuck your nose in the air - the grudge had not been let go yet), “I just plead you don’t ask how I do know.”

Arthur felt his head tilt, eye twitching in curiosity. “Are we still talking about corsets Trelawney?” he asked.

“Of course.” Josiah replied, unthinking, and you scoffed a laugh.

“Well then I think I know how you know.” you said, smiling slyly, “Because you can’t know how comfortable they’re supposed to be without trying one on.”

“They’re more comfortable than I thought.” Josiah said, adjusting his hat as his arms started flailing about in a flustered explanation. “They make a waistcoat sit very nicely under a jacket, and it was only once -”

“Trelawney,” you said, stopping the man’s babbling with one word, “Unless Arthur over here is completely enthralled by your tales of trying on women’s clothing, you don’t have to explain. I couldn’t care less what you’ve worn.”

“Alright, we shall go back to not knowing.” Trelawney said. He took a few steps ahead before stopping just before a corner. “The place is just up around the corner, you both know the plan?”

“We’re not stupid,” you mumbled, smoothing a hand down the front of your skirt.

“I know you aren’t dear, our friend here though -”

“- Hey, he’s saved your life once already today, be grateful and not make it twice.” you hissed. Josiah’s hand raised in surrender before he let out a hushed voice of agreement. Arthur looked down at you from the corner of his eye, a thread-bare smile on his face.

He wouldn’t have disagreed with Josiah, but it was nice to have someone say otherwise. Especially coming from you.

You began relaying the plan back to Josiah, the conman nodded along to every word. Arthur was just far enough along the path to be able to see around the corner, and his eyes laid on the location of your current job.

“And I’ll meet you both at this location.” Josiah said, handing over a folder piece of paper. Arthur turned back and looked over your shoulder to see there was an address written.

“This is a hotel.” you said. Arthur felt his heart skip a beat.

“Yes.” Josiah nodded, “I’ll have all your old clothes there waiting, and you can act all inconspicuous, and part ways in the morning.”

Before Arthur could protest, you were turned back toward the direction of the party you were going to be gate crashing, mumbling under your breath about how if this didn’t work out you were going to kill Josiah and forget the money all together. He couldn’t particularly blame you.

Arthur Morgan was not a social person. His idea of a home was a two room farmhouse in a valley that got cut off from civilization every winter.

This though? A mansion on one of Saint Denis most upper class streets, filled to the brim with the richest and most dolled-up of high society? This was basically a nightmare. The only thing that made it bearable was the never-ending flow of free drinks - and you.

Putting on a façade of Mr and Mrs Callahan wasn’t as bad as Arthur thought it was going to be. You sipped on champagne and kept your arm linked with his. Your warmth was comforting, grounding - and you seemed to know exactly what to do and how to talk. You introduced yourself like you belonged there, held small talk and smiled. If it weren’t for the death vice you kept on his forearm, he wouldn’t have pegged you as nervous at all. In fact having you around almost made him forget he was there to rob the place.

Apparently the homeowner had a safe full of stocks and bonds somewhere upstairs - bonds that could be fenced for thousands of dollars. The plan was to get in, mingle, sneak away and steal the bonds, return for the rest of the party, and then leave for the hotel. You seemed confident that it would work.

Arthur couldn’t help but feel like something somewhere was going to go wrong - as per the curse that seemed to befall your jobs.

Very slowly you socialized your way from the front door toward the back of the house, and then back toward the front entrance where the stairs were, tugging Arthur along the whole way. It could’ve been the alcohol, but he felt like he was in a daze. Following where you lead felt like the easiest thing ever, even in a place like this.

“How are we going to get upstairs?” he asked quietly, scanning the room. There was a lull in your socializing, and frankly there was a lull in the party too - like quiet before a storm. If there was ever a chance to rob the place, now would be it.

“What do people sneak away from parties for?” you whispered.

There was a sparkle in your eye when you looked up at him. Maybe it was the lighting. It made you look quite delicious. He wasn’t going to get distracted by your eyes though, as much as he wished he had the time to commit them to memory right that moment.

“Arthur?” The soft yet stern call of his name brought him back down to earth. What was your question again? Oh, that’s right. Why would a married man and woman sneak away somewhere private at a party?

The sudden thought of what you were implying to do with him - or more correctly, what you intended to be perceived to be doing with him - made him feel the need to loosen his collar.

When your hand slid down his arm to lock your fingers between his, he swore his very soul almost floated away. Tethered down by the warmth of your hand in his. It was embarrassing, how even pretending to sneak off with you for sex made him act like a lost puppy.

If only his wanted posters could see him now.

Somehow, no one paid you any mind as you led Arthur upstairs. For the sake of consistency, you pulled him into the nearest door - a bedroom. Just his luck. As if he needed to add any more fuel to his imaginings.

“What luck,” you said. His thoughts exactly. “Arthur, look.” He turned towards where you’d wandered. You were standing by a door, beyond it was what looked like an office.

“That’s probably where the safe is.” he mused, coming up behind you and thoughtlessly touching your waist to quietly guide you into the office.

“You start left, I’ll go right. We’ll meet in the middle, and check the desk last.” you instructed.

Arthur nodded, and quietly got to prodding around bookshelves. He looked in cupboards, and behind paintings. He got past the first wall and found nothing. The second wall though was where he found the safe - tucked snugly behind a collection of encyclopedias.

“Here.” he said over his shoulder, ushering you over. “Give me a few minutes, I’ll crack it open.” He felt you stand behind him as he played with the lock, keeping your ear out for signs of someone coming. God, you were so smart.

He felt the hem of your dress brush against his heel. Behind that hem was your ankles, your legs. You were so close. Arthur wondered what -

He let out a shaky breath, and the lock clicked open. He had to focus. Your competency couldn’t be that big of a distraction, but it was. You were smart, and so pretty, and you were leaning over his shoulder and grabbing the bonds, you smelt so nice.

“Here, you take these, put them in your boots. I’ve got the rest.” You pressed two thin wads of paper into his palms, then grabbed the rest of the bonds before pushing the safe closed.

Arthur stood after putting the bonds neatly into his boots, careful to have fixed his pant leg. When his eyes found his way up from the floor, he was met with the sight of your hands halfway down the front of your corset.

He swallowed, thickly, and looked towards the heavens. He was not going to think about how it would feel to have his hands there instead, pressed between taught fabric and the softness of your chest. He wasn’t!

He might later though.

Just then, there were the unmistakable sounds of people coming up the stairs. Arthur saw your eyes widen, and before he knew it you’d dragged him out of the office and back into the bedroom. The footsteps got louder. Closer.

They were definitely getting closer to the bedroom door.

He heard you close the office door behind you, and he looked across at you. There was something about your eyes now, something nervous. Were you nervous about getting caught? Nothing like that seemed to bother you before now, something else was wrong. You beat him to the punch before he could get the words out.

“Kiss me?” He’d never heard you sound so unsure before. Kissing him, Arthur Morgan, shouldn’t make you nervous. He wasn’t someone worth being nervous over, not unless he pointed a gun your way.

The footsteps came toward the door, and the next few moments seemed to slow right down.

You grabbed his arms, leant back against the door, and pulled him to you. ‘Kiss me,’ you said again, an order more than an ask. When your fingers brushed against his jaw on the way to settle in the hair at the back of his jacket collar, he found himself melting.

He kissed you, and you kissed back.

Arthur wasn’t unknown to the actions that befell men and women in the night, he’d partook often enough to be no stranger, but right then kissing you felt like the first time. He wasn’t a man in his late-thirties with ears of experience under his belt - this felt like back when he was young. Before Mary, and Eliza, and countless working women. His hands shook until they held tight to your waist, his heart felt like it was in his throat, and his cheeks and neck flushed faster than he had in years.

When your mouth opened to deepen the kiss, he had to refrain from groaning - however behind his eyelids his eyes did roll into the back of his skull. One of his hands took your cheek in his palm, cradling your head closer at a divine angle. His other arm wrapped around your lower back, holding you even closer with the entirety of his forearm.

By the time whoever it was outside opened the door, Arthur had completely forgotten they were the reason you both were kissing in the first place. It probably made the look of surprise on his face look more real.

When he pulled away from you, and you took his hand to sheepishly bypass the intruder - intruder would be the wrong work, the poor man probably owned the house - no one was any wiser to why you were really there.

Even Arthur had forgotten the reason his boots were uncomfortable was because there were hundreds of dollars worth of stocks and bonds stuffed in them. Your hold on his hand was firm, if he flattered himself he’d think you weren’t intending to let go. For a moment, as you both went back down the stairs, you threw a smile back over your shoulder at him.

The feeling that shot through his heart only meant one thing. He was in trouble now.

If someone asked him years from now when the last time he fell in love was, he’d say right then. Seeing you with that smile, eyes shining just for him, with your hair done nice, and dressed in a pretty blue dress - he fell in love.

Arthur Morgan fell in love hard.

The problem with you was that you never stayed in one place long.

That night after the party robbery, you’d made it back to the hotel - but you only stuck around long enough to change clothes. Arthur Morgan learnt very quickly that you were a wanderer. He supposed that was why you worked so well as a bounty hunter.

Once Arthur returned to camp after that night, he handed the bonds over to Hosea with a sour grunt, and retreated into his tent. He wasn’t upset about not getting to spend more time with you, nor was he pouting about not knowing when he’d see you again.

He did though spend the rest of the evening with his nose in his journal, sketching out your silhouette, and your eyes. How your dress looked. The smile you’d sent his way.

Arthur threw the book closed on his cot, sighing at how you’d consumed his mind.

He couldn’t tell if you’d be better or worse than Mary.

The next few weeks passed so slowly. The days dragged on. He took most chances he could to get out of camp, to make stops in town saloons and general stores - even sheriff offices - in hopes of catching a glimpse of you. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t get you out of his head. The feeling you gave him, the feeling that kiss gave him, he wanted to feel it again.

He felt like he was close to praying to god for the chance to run into you again. He felt that desperate. Then he felt like it was useless.

You were, from Arthur’s experience, the most memorable person he’d met. Everything about you he was able to recall so vividly. From the way you threatened Josiah, to how you’d almost fallen asleep on him on the train. You haunted him, and he was addicted to how you did it. Your attitude, and your beauty, it floored him. Arthur was none of those things.

Besides, he was a wanderer too. Neither of you were fixed in one place long, it wouldn’t work. You moved, and so did he. There was nothing he could do about it - just like how there was nothing he could do about how he felt about you.

Arthur could remember vividly each time he was on a job with you - because he could vividly remember you.

[cr0g-0]

Guys so some highlights of the production i saw

(It was also outside and I also have some pictures <3)

-Marvin and Whizzer play chess during Trina's therapy. Whizzer mostly files his nails.

-Jason draws in notebooks frequently and also has a teddy bear and a starwars bed.

-Marvin holds both Trina and Whizzer close during tight knit family and it is HILARIOUS

-Whizzer hanky codes with a blue hanker chief in his right pocket. He uses it to bug marvin and its used to emphasize the line "what a joy is chastity"

-they dance most of tofl and are honestly less aggressive and rather sweet :]

-Whizzer files his nails and also plays chess with Jason in his room during Marvin's therapy.

-Mendel says its queer mr marvin <3

-Whizzer is called an asshole by marvin when hes telling jason to go to therapy

-whizzer is much sillier generally and has a headache when he remembers dinner is late

-Trina asks an audience member for help "you're just laughing" and she walks away <3

-Trina's breakdown results in her reaching into her pot for her phone to call mendel

-trina threatens marvin with a knife during the end of jasons therapy and Marvin has real fear its so funny

-mendel, jason and marvin all need and wear glasses

-trina holds jasons teddy bear during her song and its sweet

-march of the falsettos features marvin whizzer and mendel using puppets while jason wears a tutu and a propeller hat

-marriage proposal has Whizzer dying laughing behind a chair and hiding behind it for the bits about biblical times and its so funny watching him dip and laugh

-chess game is played standing up and Marvin shoves whizzer away, but never outright kicks him out. Whizzer taunted him with his hankerchief and abandons it here on out

-whizzer mopes in jasons bedroom with him during making a home and trina and mendel are lovey dovey

-jason attempts to go after marvin after marvin hits trina

Act 2

-cordelia is jewish in this production!!!! She also cooks really good and everyone eats her food earnestly its cute as hell

-everyone hates his parents has trina and marvin peaking from behind chairs and its hilarious because they go up and down

-cordelia is PREGNANT!!! (Or heavily implied to be)

-baseball game has everyone bring in lawn chairs its actually so fucking cute they match each other

-jason cant swing <\3

-mendel is friends with charlotte its so fucking cute oh my god they sit next to each other and yap and trina is miserable next to marvin and whizzer

-caroline js NOT sleeping with her boss but she is heavily considering her career paths between staying and going to ibm

-mendel puts on a sweatsuit over his normal costume and i found it funny. Also trina snacks during her bit of waiting for the lesbians

-marvin and whizzer bring raquetball bags with their raquets

-marvin puts on whizzers sweatshirt part one in what more can i say and are visible on set in the background during something bad is happening before leaving

-more raquetball had Marvin cradling Whizzer once he fell and takes him off and when Trina comes on for holding to the ground, she collects their things

-jasons teddy bear makes another appearance with Trina again

-days like this starts with whizzer being generally sleepy as all get out and Marvin and Cordelia shennanigans that were sweet as hell.

-cancelling the bar mitzvah results in jason shoving trina and mendel when he leaves, and he was more angry with his no when its mentioned to cancel it.

-something bad reprise ends with Marvin leaving in tears (very upset) and charlotte shaking her hands up at the sky and looking so upset as well and when i tell you the actors were in genuine tears i mean it you could tell they cared so much

-you gotta die sometime. He fell a lot and the teddy bear was representing death. He falls into bed, curls up, and cries for majority of jasons bar mitzvah. He is VERY stagnant and his actor was a mess and it hurt

-cordelia and charlotte notice whizzer dead first and check his pulse and jason is actively reading his prayers and YALL

-they cleared his bed on stage after he died and left just his sweatshirt and teddy bear on the bed and yall that hurt more

-marvin part two wearing whizzer's sweatshirt. What would i do DESTROYED ME. Marvin ends up curled into a ball crying with the teddy bear.

-trina and jason come out and sit beside marvin and the lesbians are in their home area and then it ends guys

This show had SUCH talented actors and you could tell they were all very emotional about it. It was phenomenal. They felt nice and sweet and like a real family and friends and it was nice to see less aggression and more playfulness

[this-tastes-lemony]

Falsettos Food Theory

Okay so someone asked what this is and I really wanna explain! So the falsettos food theory is that food represents love throughout the Marvin trilogy.

In the show, In Trousers, Marvin is very strict about what kind of food he wants, and he gets very upset when he doesn’t get it imminently or the way he wants. For example, in the song ‘How Marvin Eats his Breakfast” there is the lyric,

“No one looks busy in this kitchen

And my breakfast isn't ready

And my stomach aches.”

This is in reference to that no one at that moment is giving him the love that he wants, and that he aches for it. Later in the song he also says ,

“I don't want miracles from heaven

Just some eggies over spinach over toast

No, I will not apologize!

She should win a prize:

Very best emoting

That girl can't cook”

When he says the first line he doesn’t literally mean he just wants a basic breakfast, he means that he doesn’t want much, he just wants to feel loved. By saving “that girl can’t cook” he doesn’t mean she’s lousy at making food, he means that she doesn’t give him the kind of love that he wants. One of the other ladies says

“maybe she can’t cook, but have you seen her milk a cow?” Implying that sexually she “provides” to Marvin, even if he doesn’t romantically like her (obviously this means nothing, just because they can be sexually active does not mean that it is love).

Another one is in Whizzer Going Down he says,

“he hates my wife

I hate his food”.

He’s saying he hates when Whizzer shows him love because he is not ready to accept the fact that he can be loved and he can love another man.

There are many more references of this in the show In Trousers and if anyone wants to hear them I’ll gladly go into it in another post!!

The ones in Falsettos are even more obvious references to love. In the song Tight Knit Family, Marvin sings,

“We all eat as one

Wife, friend, and son

And I sing out as they cook

I love my tight-knit family

I love the way they cook linguine”

They all eat as one meaning they are all receiving love from one another, even if it isn’t good. The next line being “I sing out as they cook” (singing out meaning to say or shout something loudly, most likely implying the unhealthy relationship he’s in with his family) this line is saying that while they provide him love and what ever he asks, he continues to complain about it.

However, in the next line he says “I love the way they cook linguine” which is a considered normal traditional meal for a lot people. This is showing that he enjoys when they provide him with basic normal love, instead of arguing or disagreeing with him.

Another reference later on in the musical is in the ENTIRETY of the song “This Had Better Come To A Stop”. The first set of unique lyrics though is what I’ll cover.

“Whizzer's supposed to always be here

Making dinner, set to screw

That's what pretty boys should do

Check their hairlines, make the dinner

And love me”

This is saying that Whizzer is supposed to always be at Marvin’s command, loving him and giving himself to Marvin sexually at all times. He mentions making dinner twice in these lyrics, again implying that he doesn’t want Whizzers love unless it’s later in the day once he’s gotten his love from his other family ( breakfast specifically).

Another general reference to food equaling love is Cordelia’s entire character. All she does throughout the show is provide food and such to the characters, this being her giving them constant love. Since Cordelia was giving Marvin so much food (presumably) during the two year gap during intermission, we can assume that her unique and (sometimes) not so great food taught him that he doesn’t always get to choose what to eat, but that he should be greatful someone is cooking for him anyway. I think Cordelia is one of the most amazing characters in the story.

For all of the song “Days Like This” she’s trying to get Whizzer to eat something, meaning she’s trying to share her love with him.

In the song “Jason’s Bar Mitzvah”, Dr. Charlotte says

“She's cooked for some 200 guests

[CORDELIA]

We number not that many

Actually... we're seven”

This shows that she has provided so much love for all of these people, even though there’s only seven. Only a couple lines later, she tries the food Cordelia made, and says that the food “tastes really yummy.” (in the pro shot Trina nods her head to agree).

This is important to me because it shows that Cordelia finally found a way to show/express her love with the rest of the characters, and have them reciprocate it for the first time on stage, showing that they are all at peace and finally love each other.

Just like in trousers there are hundreds of more references in Falsettos so if any of you would like me to go more into it I’d be happy to!

This is all speculation of course, we don’t know if any of this was intentional, buts it’s by far my favorite thing to talk about that’s falsettos related. Hope you enjoyed reading!

[charliedawn]

slashers(Jason,Michael and Brahms only) with beautiful undead yet friendly bride Reader who is like Emily(from Corpse Bride) and She refers them as Her "Victor" (btw,are you fan of Tim Burton? if not then that's okay)

(Here you go ! Thank you for the request and indeed, I am a big fan of Tim Burton. Hope you’ll like it 👍)

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was scared half-to-death (see what I did there ? 😂) when he saw that rotten bride just sprang out from the very earth he usually buries the bodies of his victims in. Not gonna lie, he kinda ran back to his cabin when he saw you—‘cause if his mama taught him anything ? It was that dead people don’t come back to life for no good reason. The poor boy locked himself up twice. But, it wasn’t enough to stop you. You eventually came in and started haunting him. He tried to shoo you away at first because Jason likes his loneliness, his space. Actually, he doesn’t like people in general—dead or alive. So, Jason tried everything to get rid of you. He swung his axe at you and tried to catch you or trap you, but all his efforts were fruitless. He finally gave up and let you haunt him. But, he didn’t regret it. As you are a ghost, you could guard his home and warn him of any danger nearby. It was nice having someone watching over his back for once.

…But then, you saw it.

The machete that killed you.

On his wall.

You looked back at Jason and your undead heart squeezed in your chest. Had he…? Was he the one who had killed you ? On your wedding day nonetheless ? Wasn’t he your Victor ? And if not. Who was he ?

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms likes to play pretend. He dreamt of having that special someone he could one day propose to and have his happy ever after moment. He was thinking about it and had one of those gummy rings he had saved from his snack time. He was in the forest and had decided to have himself a little repetition for the unforeseeable future and that’s when he saw one peculiar branch that looked like a finger. He didn’t think more about it and did his little game of pretending…and when he put the ring on the finger. Well…He certainly didn’t expect some half-rotten bride to spurt out of the earth and shout:

"I DO."

But it did. That happened. And then, you wouldn’t leave him—not that he minded. Far from it. He was happy to have a wife (even though the kisses and hugs were a lil’ cold) He wondered about telling people about his…well…new ‘bride’. But, he thought better of it when he realised how lonely and sad you were. It didn’t matter that you called him Victor. Or Marvin. Or Hector. Or Derek for that matters…He would take any name if it meant you would stay and love him. And you had said ‘I do’. No takebacksies now.

Michael Myers:

Michael was confused when he first saw you sprang up from the earth. Weird. His victims usually stayed dead. He tried to stab you but…Oops. Already dead. He quickly realised that you must be like Jack Torrance—a ghost. He also understood that stabbing you would be a waste of time. He tried to ignore you, but you would then appear at random times and tell him that you were married and that he was your Victor. As Michael doesn’t speak, he couldn’t rectify you.

Hence, he became ‘Victor’ to you.

At the end, he learnt to tolerate your presence. Especially at night when he would normally sleep alone with his regrets, he would feel your hand stroking his head and your voice singing him lullabies…Maybe having a dead bride wouldn’t be that bad…?

One day, you showed him an old picture of you. He looked at it and you could see that something was bothering him. You asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell you he remembered you. He didn’t tell you he remembered your wide frightened eyes when he plunged his knife deep into your heart the day you were supposed to marry…or the way he mercilessly beheaded your betrothed.

That was a story he would rather never share with you.

[playing-pauls-mel0dy]

another fic!! woo!!

uh. still pretty dark. still due to Implications and not anything that's shown in the fic. but still.

So Guess Who Heard The Theory Of "Rainer Was Potentially One Of Marvin's First Victims, If Not His First (either of rebirthing or just abuse in general)" In The Middle Of Writing This.

there's a reason why, when Rainer learned about what Marvin did to Care in The School, why he was so fucking Pissed.

but anyway, all you really need to know:

Rainer had a speech delay, Care had a speech And language delay, both of 'em kinda had it for Autism Reasons.

because i was like "hm. i have a headcanon. maybe i'll express it in a fic since i don't have much time to sit and draw" so here we are. enjoy!

edit: forgot to tag my bestie! @that-darn-clown in case you wanna see it :]

[marvelmaven]

Broken But Brave Pt. 5

This is my first attempt at a fic, so encouragement and kind advice are welcome. Let me know what you think!

Bucky Barnes/Original Fem! Character

Set in an AU where Tony DOESN'T die after End Game and Steve is actually with Bucky till the end of the line.

Summary: Bucky is going through therapy, consulting with the Avengers, but not interested in living under Stark's roof, for reasons he thought should be obvious to everyone. On his way home to his Brooklyn apartment, he bumps into his new neighbor, a petite, self-proclaimed cat lady. But he notices something about her that will have him keeping his eye out.

Trigger warning: References to Domestic Abuse

Part 5/?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Buck, we could have taken care of this at the Tower, we have doctors–” Steve began, but Bucky cut him off quickly. 

“I don’t like doctors.” He knew he sounded petulant, but he was beyond embarrassed. Steve had chased after him like he was going to self-destruct and outed him to his neighbor. His cute, short, bossy neighbor, who liked to sit with him while she knit and watch old movies. Good movies too, not that crap Sam always tried to show him with too much of that CGI stuff. The neighbor who resembled some sort of cartoon deer. The cute girl-next-door who didn’t pester him with questions or pry into his past, and whose big eyes and light laugh kept popping up in his thoughts at inopportune times.

Lori had scurried off to feed Marvin after throwing away the gauze, instruments, and paper towels she’d used to clean him up. Bucky heard her from the other room, “So handsome, and so patient, aren’t you buddy?” Marvin yowled in reply. Bucky stared at Steve, Steve stared back, arms crossed. 

“Do you want some beer?” Her voice interrupted the staring match and they both looked over at her. She was framed by the light behind her in the kitchen, a small smile on her face, looking absolutely heavenly. 

“Sure. Thanks, doll,” Bucky replied with a smile, before turning back and staring at Steve, whose eyebrows had shot into his hair. Sam mouthed the word, “doll”, to himself looking bemused.

He heard the fridge open and a can drop. Bucky rose and met her in the kitchen, crouching down, he silently took two of the cans from her. He paused, meeting her eyes, before quietly saying “Lori, I appreciate your help tonight, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was sooner.” 

Her forehead wrinkled slightly and her head cocked to one side, “I’m happy to help, and you don’t need to apologize.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling, “I’m the dope who didn’t recognize you because you got a haircut.”

Bucky barked out a laugh, warmth blooming in his chest. Lori squeezed his wrist, still smiling. She knew and she didn’t care. Lori was…odd, but he’d known that before. He heard her sometimes when he walked by her door, chatting happily to Marvin like he could actually answer her. But, she was also unfailingly kind. His heart swelled a bit. Maybe therapy wasn’t absolutely useless after all. Maybe Raynor would consider this…growth? Probably not. She’d probably focus on the part where he had stormed off of the quinjet after an encounter with a new generation of super soldiers, slapped a bandaid on his forehead, and sped off on his motorcycle. 

 “Come on, they don’t bite either.” He motioned with his head back to the living room, feeling lighter as he watched her giggle, and led the way back to where the dynamic duo waited. Bucky passed a beer to Steve, who was watching him closely, and Sam, who was failing to contain his laughter. 

Lori had sat herself at the table, “what kind of pizza are you thinking of?” She cracked open her own can and looked at them expectantly, taking a sip. 

Steve rubbed a hand down his face and then sat on the couch, “Ma’am–”

Lori’s nose wrinkled slightly. 

“Don’t call a lady under 30 ‘Ma’am’,” Sam sat beside Steve, slinging an arm behind him, grinning like the cat who got the cream. 

“Even I know that,” Bucky gave him a look. 

“I’m actually 33, I just wear sunscreen.” Lori took another sip of her beer, “but…pizza toppings?”

Steve said nothing, but opened his mouth a few times. 

“Steve likes onion and pepper, and so do I.” Bucky replied to her question, “and let me grab the pizza, it’s only fair since you sewed my head up and have to deal with these two.” He looked over at Sam who was still grinning. Like an idiot. 

“Oh, I like pepperoni.” Sam seemed like he was about to bust out a bag of popcorn. Had he come all this way just to watch Steve tear into him or something?

Bucky met Steve’s eyes, eyebrows raising, feeling the bandage on his forehead rise. After a brief moment, Steve sighed, deflating, knowing he’d lost this particular battle, “Thanks, Lori.” 

“Onion and pepper, definitely old man toppings,” she teased.

Pizza was ordered, and Lori had left them to get changed out of her scrubs. Bucky exhaled, looking at Steve. He was exhausted, fighting Hydra for half of the life he had been conscious for would do that, he supposed. 

He took a sip, eyes raising after a moment, “How many heads do we have to cut off, when can we finally just rip them out, root and stem?” 

Steve met his gaze, shaking his head ruefully, “I dunno, Buck. It seems like these ones stole the serum for their own use, they might not actually be part of Hydra at all.” 

A heavy silence fell between the three of them, until Marvin jumped into Bucky’s lap. He frowned at the cat, surprised, scratching the top of the fluffy head and looking back at Steve and Sam. 

“Oh my goodness,” Lori had returned, wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, “I told you he liked you.” 

She sat down in the armchair that usually sat vacant, smiling wide. 

“You know,” Bucky looked at her, “the first time Sam, here, met the King of Wakanda, he asked him if he liked cats.”

She laughed, looking at Sam who looked like he’d been personally betrayed. 

“Yeah, well she should have seen you, sneaking around today. Spend a little time in Wakanda, and you come out White Panther.” Sam quipped back. 

“It’s actually White Wolf,” Bucky responded. 

“What?” Sam looked surprised and Steve choked a little on his beer.. 

“What did he say?” Lori asked, looking at Sam. 

“King T’Challa? Absolutely nothing.” 

“Because it was a stupid question.”

“One, a valid question when a man pops up in a cat suit; Two, there are no stupid questions.” 

“Oh, there definitely are.” 

“Do you two always bicker like an old, married couple?” Lori laughed, watching Sam and Bucky with merriment. . 

“Yes,” Steve cracked a smile, finally, “it’s exhausting.” 

The buzzer rang to Lori’s apartment, Bucky stood, “I’ll grab it, stay there Lori.”

Ignoring Steve and Sam who were sharing a significant look, he left her apartment, running down the stairs to meet the teenager holding the pizzas. Bucky pulled cash out of his wallet, handing it to the poor kid, who was wearing a windbreaker and looking half frozen. 

“Thanks, man.” The kid was off like a shot, jumping on a bicycle and pedaling back to the parlor a few blocks away. When he walked in, Sam was telling a joke to a delighted Lori, Steve shaking his head and sipping his beer. 

Once pizza was eaten, the three of them left, thanking Lori for her help with his forehead and dinner. Bucky walked them out of the building, waiting with his arms crossed as the pair stood in front of Sam’s truck. 

“Lori’s nice.” Steve said it lightly, but the unsaid meaning was plain. 

“It’s not like that,” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Sure, he thought about her. A LOT. The way she chatted to him while she sat knitting, wild and curly hair falling over her face when she laughed at something he said, the way she didn’t judge him for not loving technology, the way her nose would scrunch all adorably when she was confused or disagreed. He’d love to be the old him, the 30s him, the guy that would push her hair back from her face when she laughed or peck her nose when she was confused, but what woman on earth would possibly want to be in a relationship with him? 

Natasha talked about her ledger dripping with red. Bucky had actively worked for the most evil organization of the 20th century, killing whoever they pointed him at, including a sitting US President. Lori might be kind, but she wasn’t stupid. Anyways, she was still healing from whatever bastard had used to lay his hands on her. He’d never want her to feel unsafe or uncomfortable with him. He was fine just being her friend and neighbor. (Admittedly, he was telling himself this the more he spent time with her). He was ‘James’, the guy she would call when she needed to go somewhere at night or who would listen to “new” music with her. (She’d shown him some Elvis recently, and he actually had enjoyed it.) 

“I thought your type was grandmas,” Sam dodged, laughing as he avoided Bucky’s hand, “hey, I’m just messing, man.” 

“Night Buck.” Steve called, climbing in the truck as Sam hopped in and turned the engine over. 

“Night, Steve.” Bucky turned around, entering the building with plans to try to fall asleep without thinking of a certain vet who was on his mind. He paused, a cat carrier sat inside the doors to the building. Frowning, he picked it up. ‘Marvin’ was embossed on the side in glittering rhinestones. 

Next Part

[fiendishartist2]

im not fucking around anymore. here's the full "Paul is Care" essay i've been working on:

“Alright. So there's uh, nothing out here, as far as I've seen. But actually, I think there is something out here. I just haven't seen it yet.”

In Petscop, the story is told between the lines. When you feel like you have a grasp on it, a single colour or date throws off everything you’ve built up. That’s why I like to look at Petscop in another way; not as a series of events, but an exploration of a single character: Paul.

Some people like to map everything out in a single timeline; when did Care go missing, when did the family get the game, when did Lina and Mike die. I think that every interpretation of Petscop has its own value, because Petscop means something different to everyone who watches it. But, when I look at Petscop, I don’t just see a series of events wrapped up in the mystery of Care’s disappearance. I see a video game used as a device to explore and understand the connection between the past and the present. I see the ways in which Paul Leskowitz is Carrie Mark.

I know that to some that notion might seem crazy; the broader discussion of Petscop is different to the niche ones held by crazy people in the tags of a Tumblr post . Obviously, this theory is personally significant and I hold it very near and dear to my heart. But, I want to share this theory in a way that makes sense to the general audience of Petscop because I genuinely believe you guys are missing out! So, keep an open mind and enter my Petscop mind-palace…

“...were signs along the way. Um, that I ignored. Because it would have been a completely ridiculous idea to me. Um. But when I found my room, it made, uh, well, I was shocked at first, but it made sense, especially considering where I found the game in the first place, um, that it would be tied, in some way, to me through you. Um. And I'm trying to think, when was the last time I saw any of you at all? It had to have been in like, 1999. I was a kid, I was a small kid. Tiny kid. Um. And after that, just, you know. But, it would make sense in the timeline.” (Petscop 11)

A lot of Petscop theories surround the actual textual proof found in the videos, so that’s where I’ll start. There’s many instances where Paul makes the connection between himself and Care, but one moment continues to stick with me. In Petscop 11, Paul finally enters the house and takes a look around. He’s on the phone with someone, presumably Belle. Paul goes up to the calendars and starts talking about Care, “Yeah, on that topic... I don't remember meeting this girl at all. Um, I don't remember knowing her at any point (…) Um, and I remember you saying that we were, that we, we are, um, exactly the same age.” (Petscop 11). He points out that he and Care share the same birthday, down to the year. We get further confirmation of this in Petscop 14, when Paul’s conversation with Jill that he had on his own birthday is superimposed onto Care’s. The next part though, is what really gets the theory started, “I do agree there's a resemblance. Um. Very strong resemblance between us.” (Petscop 11).

Faces are incredibly important in Petscop. Marvin thought Care and Mike could be rebirthed into Lina because they had similar features, and Care had to be given Mike’s eyebrows specifically to change her room. So, for Paul and Care to have such similar facial features that someone else pointed out the resemblance is significant.

They also happen to share the name “Leskowitz”, which is both Anna and Lina’s last name. We know this because his Reddit account is “p_leskowitz”.

If he’s a Leskowitz, then that explains his complicated feelings towards “the family”. “The family” is a foreboding presence throughout Petscop. Their meddling isn’t outright malicious, but even Paul admits that he’s intimidated by them. And it makes sense, as “the family” (comprised of Anna and Jill) each have a major role in the core mystery of Petscop. Anna is the mother of Care and the wife of Marvin, while Jill is Marvin’s sister and the mother of both Rainer and Mike. To be a Leskowitz, Paul would need to be blood related to Anna or Lina in some way. Paul shows that he has this relation to the family in Petscop 22, when he’s talking to Belle about finding the windmill, “And, I don't th- and you don't have to worry about it, right, 'cause... 'cause you aren't, you aren't family, so you wouldn't... have a room, that's the thing.” (Petscop 22). In this context, Paul is asking Belle whether Jill has contacted her. When he tells her she doesn’t have a room, this is in reference to the Child Library explored in Petscop 3 and 7. This means that in order to be part of the Leskowitz-Mark family (and in our case, related to Care), you have to have a room in the Child Library, something both Paul and Care possess.

Paul being related to the family is also supported by his casual mention of meeting Rainer as a child, “‘Rainer’... I saw him at a birthday party once. All the older kids were down in the basement playing video games, to hide from everyone. He was down there, too. He was older than the rest of them, though.” (Petscop 11), and his confusion of not knowing Care, with the implication that if she was real, he would have met her through the family.

A rarely discussed aspect of Paul’s character is that he can’t tell his left from his right. When he’s doing the disc puzzle in Anna and Marvin’s room is Petscop 11, “Um, we can see what the room looks like in that recording, um, on the uh, right? ... Left? Left? Right ... side.” (Petscop 14) and before he even enters the house, “And, I mean, I still get confused about that. Because, I mean, well, I know it's always the top, but, um, I still have to think. I have to think.” (Petscop 11), we can clearly see that he has trouble with directions. In a similar fashion, Care is described as “dizzy”, most notably in the end credits of Petscop. She is also described as blind by Rainer in Petscop 17, “You were blind. At some point, your movements stopped making sense.” (Petscop 17). In the counsellor’s office, the counsellor says to Paul, “Are you right handed, or left handed? You don't know? Really?” (Petscop 22). I’ll get more into it later, but this sequence is presumably a real conversation that the game is recreating. If this scene is taken from Care’s real childhood, then it confirms that she also had problems with her lefts and rights.

Now, this is the base level of the theory. It’s easy to figure out that Paul is a Leskowitz, he literally calls them “the family”. And while I think the bits about faces and birthdays and directions are significant to this theory, I wanted to get all of the textual evidence out of the way so that I could get into the fun part of this essay: the subtext.

”Some things you can't rewrite.” (Petscop 14)

Petscop is nothing if not a collection of symbols and metaphors. Ask me what Petscop is all about on any given day and there’s a non-zero chance I will start explaining why the car is orange. While it is necessary to analyse Petscop as a real series of events, I think that another approach can be taken; what if we analysed Petscop as a series of events that are happening to Paul specifically? That the game is creating meaning by placing Paul specifically in these snippets of the past. By looking at each moment as “Why did the game make Paul do this?” instead of “What is happening in the game?”, we can see everything through a new lens.

First, I want to discuss colour. Colour plays a huge role in Petscop; almost every character is assigned their own colour. This is most often used to denote who is speaking in text, but it’s also used for other things like the tool. You are probably aware that Care’s colour is yellow, as all of her text is yellow. What you might not know is that Paul’s colour is red. Paul has exactly one instance in all of Petscop where he has coloured text and that is in Petscop 22, when he gives the counsellor his name. The calendars in the house are also colour coded, as the one showing 2017 is red.

One of my favourite moments in all of Petscop uses colour in a way that supports this theory perfectly. When Paul takes Care out of the rebirthing machine, she has been transformed into an Easter egg. A red and yellow striped Easter egg. I will get into this egg later on, but for now, I want to point out how Paul and Care’s colours have been used here. Of course, it’s significant just that they've been put together, but it's more than that. Care’s final form, the egg she has been placed in to keep her safe from all of the trauma she has suffered, that she will spend the rest of the series in, is painted a combination of her and Paul’s colours. In the same sequence, when Paul is playing the Needles Piano for Care B, the “wrong” notes he plays to turn her into the Easter Egg are all red. There’s a joke about eggs and transness in here somewhere.

Right after Care’s rebirth into the egg, Paul places her in the locker with the purple egg and the “new life” letter. If we abide by the established colour theory, this second egg would be Belle’s/Tiara’s egg. By putting them together, alongside the letter, it symbolises Care and Belle’s transfer to Lina’s care; this can also be supported by the ending of Petscop. In the final scene of the soundtrack, Belle recounts when she and Paul were adopted, “There is Boss waiting for her son. Pall do you remember being born. Smuggled away driving to your new house. Boss in driver seat me in back.” (Petscop Soundtrack). “Do you remember being born” is a question posed over and over again throughout Petscop. It’s meant to be a reference to rebirthing, but here it’s Paul being asked if he remembers being born, not Care; you can also connect this to the “new life” letter, making it apparent Belle is asking if he remembers when he was given his “new life” with her and “Boss”. There’s also the implication of the wording “smuggled away”, implying that there was something stopping Paul from being taken to his new home. Paul and Care’s final scenes parallel each other; Care is placed with Belle’s/Tiara’s egg with the “new life” letter, while Paul is taken back to “Boss” by Belle. Care and Paul are both asked if they “remember being born”.

Another, smaller piece of colour theory in Petscop comes from the board games in the counsellor’s office. The board game “Accident” features red and yellow puzzle pieces that fit together, but are broken apart. Remember that Care’s colour is yellow, so assume that she symbolises the yellow piece; Paul’s colour is red, so assume that he symbolises the red piece. The red piece is bigger and fits into the smaller yellow piece, like it’s missing the beginning of it. The yellow piece comes before the red piece, as if it adds context to the red piece. When we think of this in terms of Care and Paul, we can see that Care is the “missing piece” of Paul; the small part of his past that adds the context that completes him. Paul’s piece is bigger because he’s been Paul for so much longer (if we interpret the counsellor’s office as a real event the way it is shown, then that could be the moment he changed. Or, if we consider Care’s rebirth into the egg as the moment Care turned into Paul, then that would be the moment instead), meanwhile Care’s piece is small because she was only a small part of his life.

Taking colour into account, we can get into the meat of the symbolism in Petscop. When we view the events of Petscop through our new lens, many things become significant. Paul is placed in the role of Care many times throughout the series; on Care’s birthday, in the counsellor's office, and in Rainer’s “you are Carrie Mark” monologue.

During the “strange situation” birthday scene, Paul carries around a yellow balloon, symbolising that he is standing in for Care. This is further cemented by Anna’s dialogue addressing Paul as if he is Care on the day she came home, “You made it. Happy birthday! (...) Why are you covering your face? (...) Of course I recognize you. Those eyes. That nose. That’s still you.” (Petscop 14).

This next dialogue from Anna is particularly interesting to me; she doesn’t just tell Paul that she’s happy Care is home safe or ask him where she’s been, but instead she says this, “I sure hope you’ve realised by now. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been gone. It doesn’t matter how much you’ve changed. You aren’t lost. Stop wandering and come home.” (Petscop 14). When we talk about Petscop, we have the urge to deny any supernatural involvement in the story. Whether through AI or predictive programming or alternate timelines, we want Petscop to be plausible. Understandable. Easy to digest. But, we often forget that Paul poses the question of a literal “ghost in the machine” in the first few episodes. I want to consider this quote– Anna talking to her child who has been “lost” for many years– as an act of this ghost. The game is talking back to Paul, telling him that no matter how much he has changed, he still has the same eyes, the same nose that made him Carrie Mark. And we know how important eyes and noses are in Petscop. Also as a side note, consider how Anna didn’t specify eyebrows; we know that Care’s lack of eyebrows is in some way due to Marvin, but when she tells Paul she recognises his eyes and nose, she doesn’t add on eyebrows. Paul said it himself in Petscop 7, “Um, and why am I doing that? Well, because eyebrows seem to be important.” (Petscop 7). I like to think that she couldn’t have said that Paul has the same eyebrows because, since Marvin isn’t in the picture anymore, he wouldn’t have any reason to pluck them.

Another scene that mixes up Paul and Care is the counsellor's office. When Paul finally enters the “girl wall” in Petscop 22, he is placed into a school’s counsellor’s office. Again, they talk to Paul as if he is Care, apologising for taking him out of class and saying he needs to “catch up”, implying that he’s missed a significant amount of school. As they start to play Graverobber (Jesus Christ, Rainer), the counsellor is confused about Paul’s name; they ask him if they have the wrong name written down, as his save file is currently “Strange Situation” and when they called out the name on file, Paul didn’t respond. Now, the connection here is a little more nuanced, but it still comes to a conclusion that I think greatly supports the theory. “Strange situation” is in reference to the Mary Ainsworth Strange Situation Experiment, a test in which an infant is deliberately separated from their mother to test their level of attachment. This is a very base level understanding of this concept, but when applied to this specific scene, it becomes apparent that this “strange situation” is another reference to Care. Care was separated from her mother for about half a year, only returning during the birthday party scene; the counsellor’s scene was accessible once Paul started using the “Strange Situation” file. Care stopped recognising the name she used before the seperation, considering herself to be “Strange Situation” instead. She has literally stopped recognising the name Care, and picks out her own name (which in the game Paul sets to his own).

Also consider the implication of the “girl wall”. At first, it’s an absurd joke, meant to lighten the mood using the same roundabout humour the rest of the series has. But, the counsellor asking if they have the wrong name, listing Paul as “Strange Situation” instead of his name, combined with the fact that when Paul is placed in front of the girl wall, he can’t walk away from it, it becomes a bit of an analogy; The game keeps forcefully showing Paul the word “GiRL” over and over and when he finally enters the “girl-world” as Strange Situation, he is called the wrong name and once again placed in Care’s shoes.

Let’s revisit the “ghost in the machine” idea. In Petscop 17, we are shown a past recording of Petscop; we never find out who was playing at this time, but it’s easy to assume Paul is the one watching the recording. The footage is less interesting than the dialogue, but it is notable that it’s a recording of the player running backwards in a very deliberate pattern. The actually relevant part of this sequence is Rainer’s monologue; in particular, the way he frames it, “You are a girl named Carrie Mark, and you were born on November 12th, 1992. You have a mommy named Anna, a daddy named Marvin, an auntie named Jill, an uncle named Thomas, a cousin named Daniel, ......I know what you must be thinking. Have these statements always been true? Or have I cursed you? Is there such a thing? A curse that changes your past?” (Petscop 17). There’s something about the forcefulness of this dialogue, “You are Carrie Mark,” as if Rainer is trying to make it so just by saying it. The inclusion of the birthday is also notable; we have been shown time and time again that Paul and Care share a birthday, and that this is an important part of both of their characters. So, when Rainer asks if these statements have always been true, or if it’s “a curse that changes your past”, we’re meant to interpret it as such: some of the statements are true, but the “you” being addressed is not currently “a girl named Carrie Mark”. Rainer casts a spell to make the player retrace their steps and although he might not be playing, the use of the word “you” and present tense language makes the statement pointed towards Paul. There’s something to be said about Rainer’s position in all of this; he isn’t the only tangible “ghost” in Petscop (Marvin and Tiara fit Paul’s definition established in Petscop 6), but he’s the only one to be fully dead. It truly feels, in this moment, like Petscop– like Rainer– is talking directly to Paul. The “curse that changes your past” is the part that ties it all together. This past that Paul doesn’t fully remember, where Anna and Marvin have a daughter named Care, where someone in his family went missing for months– by learning about this through the game, Rainer is essentially changing Paul’s version of the past. Your memory and physical evidence are all you have of the past; when your memory tells you one thing, but physical evidence tells you another, what version of your past is true?

“You’re the Newmaker. You can turn Care NLM into Care A, and close the loop.” (Petscop 9)

Finally, I want to explain why this theory is supportive of the themes of Petscop. Of course, there’s the obvious link between rebirth and the change from Care to Paul. But, there’s also themes of blood family versus chosen family, breaking the cycle of abuse, and of healing from your past. I want to provide an explanation of each of these themes and how the “Paul is Care” theory fits into them.

Let’s begin with the family point, since I already expanded on the family’s role in Petscop earlier. There’s a story behind the scenes in this series; the conflict between the chosen family versus the blood family. Anna and Jill against Belle and Lina. Anna and Jill are restrictive– they take over the channel and block certain things from the audience. Paul admits that he’s intimidated by them, and he’s concerned when he thinks Jill could be in contact with Belle. When we get the only dialogue from Jill, Paul is hostile and aggressive with her, something we don’t see from him otherwise. Alternately, Anna comes off as dismissive in most of her dialogue; when Care shows up at the birthday party, Anna treats her like no time has passed, like they haven’t been searching for her for months. We don’t get direct contact between Anna and Paul (except for a phone call in Petscop 11 that you could interpret as being with Anna), but the way she talks to the player through Care during the birthday party is still dismissive, “I sure hope you’ve realised by now. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been gone. It doesn’t matter how much you’ve changed. You aren’t lost. Stop wandering and come home.” (Petscop 14). There’s a level of distance between Paul and the family, which is evident from the name alone; Paul identifies himself as part of the family, but he still calls them “the family” as opposed to “my family”. When you pair that with the fact that he calls them all by their first names instead of any term of endearment (like how Rainer calls her “Auntie Jill” in his spell), it paints a clear picture: Paul does not want to be part of this family.

In direct contrast, Belle is shown a significant amount of affection from Paul. Not only is he on the phone with her for a good handful of the episodes, but Belle also has a familial connection to Paul. In Petscop 2, Paul is talking to Belle and he says “When you come home next month, and uh, hopefully you're feeling a little more enthusiastic about that now, we can investigate this together, and maybe you'll find stuff that I can't find here.” (Petscop 2). I think the casual use of the word ‘home’ to describe where Belle is staying implies a certain closeness, maybe even that they live in the same household. That’s not the part of this line that is important to me, however. Take a look at Belle’s final speech at the end of Petscop; Belle says “I could not wait too be your friend,” and Paul responds, “Family”, to which Belle says, “We can investigate this together.” (Petscop Soundtrack). After distancing himself from the family, as well as directly telling her she’s not part of the family (following it up with “Uhh... I didn't- I didn't mean it that way,” (Petscop 22), implying they have a similar connection that she’s defending), Paul calls Belle family. She states that they’re friends and Paul corrects her by telling her that they’re not just friends, but family. The most gut wrenching part of this dialogue is the use of ‘we can investigate this together’. It’s like a ward, a promise that Belle is making to Paul. He doesn’t have to go through this alone, she’s promising to be there for him. She’s going to investigate this with him, like he asked her to in the second episode. Paul doesn’t call his blood relatives family, but he tells Belle that they are his family; her and the “Boss”.

How does this connect to Care? It’s not hard evidence, but when you take this theme of family into account, it makes more sense for Paul to have a strained relationship with the family if we apply Care’s story to him. Think about it; Paul was ‘smuggled away driving too [his] new house’ and he hasn’t seen the family since he was a child, and Care’s egg was (metaphorically) placed with Belle’s and the New Life Letter when she would have been around 5, since that’s the age she was when she was kidnapped. Care went through an extremely traumatic event in a toxic environment– why wouldn’t someone step in and take her out of that family? To me, this theory extends the same closure Paul gets at the end of Petscop to Care; it tells us that even after everything she went through, she finds people who love and take care of her.

Abuse is a huge focus in Petscop, both as a plot point and a major theme. Rainer’s main motivation is to expose Marvin’s abuse of both Mike and Care to the family– whether or not that’s successful is not important. Because years after Rainer’s attempt, Paul is back doing the exact same; although, his playthrough of Petscop is less of an expose and more of an attempt at solving the mystery. Now, I think it’s a little pedantic, but in this context, I think the “cycle of abuse” in Petscop refers less to a generational cycle, but a continuous cycle that happens every time Petscop is played. Care is stuck in this version of the past that Rainer has created, forced to live through it as many years as Petscop is left on. Paul doesn’t continue this cycle though; as far as we know, Paul is the only person to reach the good ending of the game, where he’s rebirthed Care into the egg and reconnected with Belle and ‘Boss’. Paul is the only person who could understand what Care needed, because it’s exactly what he needed.

Care’s trauma is replayed for us throughout Petscop. Every knowable aspect of it is shown, leaving behind a raw feeling; like somehow, Paul and Rainer have made a spectacle of her abuse. But, I don’t think that’s entirely true. Rainer, although he is bitter and vengeful, is ultimately the person who finds the truth about Care and Mike and (if we are to believe him) is also the one who found Care at the school. In the beginning, it’s obvious that Paul is playing the game to see the mystery and is slowly engulfed by it throughout the rest of the series. When the game tells him that, “Marvin picks up tool hurts me when playstation on,” (Petscop 3), Paul proceeds anyway. The same happens when Care is caught in her room; Paul sees what is obviously a child being kidnapped and continues to solve the puzzle anyway. He picks the flower, catching Care NLM, and leads Marvin to the house. Paul follows through on everything he can to ‘solve’ the mystery of Carrie Mark, but in the end, he defies what the game has told him to do and saves Care. He does what Rainer couldn’t do: he breaks the cycle of abuse in the Mark-Leskowitz family. It’s kind of poetic, the idea that the person Care grew to be is the same person who confronts and lays to rest her trauma. The fact that playing his own theme would be the key to changing Care into the egg (a symbol of birth and potential) is beautiful.

The last thing I want to talk about is the theme of healing. This concept is more nebulous; we don’t see much of Paul post-Petscop, but the final scene does always leave me feeling hopeful for him. I think the reconnection with Belle and ‘Boss’, alongside the reassurance that, “[they] can investigate this together,” shows that Paul is out of the mindset and environment Petscop put him in. I’ve always thought that throughout Petscop, we see a deterioration of Paul; in the beginning, he’s intrigued and confused, but we see him become more and more disturbed, irritable, and frustrated towards the end. This is first evident with the CD puzzle in the house, where Paul is so out of his depth and confused that he stops acting with the same calm rationality shown throughout the earlier episodes. Then, when Paul is messing about with the demo recordings, he stops speaking in the videos entirely. When Paul sees the final blacked out object, which are coordinates to the real life windmill, he is the most stuttery we’ve ever seen, “Hm. Y- y- yep, yep. Yep... yep. N- we would- we would have to find out how big... like, we'd have to find out how big a tile is..? One of the tiles..? Like, if we could- if we could figure out how big... one tile is, in... u- in, umm... Like, feet. Or... Uhh, yeah. Meters.” (Petscop 22). He’s frazzled and excited and a little bit scared, evidenced by how he talks about the family, “They didn't... I don't like talking to them. They intimidate me…” (Petscop 22). All of this changes by the end; Paul is no longer stuck playing the game and he’s free to return to the people who love him most. This freedom is summed up in a single image: the final one we see in Petscop. Paul’s chair is empty and the blue sky beyond the desk is brimming with hope.

All this to say, Paul choosing Belle and ‘Boss’ over the game as well as saving Care by doing what’s best for her instead of finishing the final puzzle, alongside his final scene where he is welcomed home by his real family, shows us an interpretation of Petscop that paints it not as a tragedy, but a story of chosen family, breaking the cycle of abuse, and healing trauma through connection.

Thank you so much for hearing me out.

Bye-bye!

[gl1tchrix]

Time to rant about falsettos racquetball.

In falsettos we only get to see two instances of Marvin and Whizzer playing racquetball. The second one serves as a segue into Whizzer’s sickness, but the first one, or rather the fact that they play racquetball in general is what I want to focus on.

They don’t outright say it but to me, and likely to many others, the two men playing this game together is a testament to Marvin’s growth as a character. In every way, racquetball serves as a direct contrast to the chess game towards the end of act one.

The chess game is Marvin’s desire for control. He wants to win, he wants others to follow him, he always wants to be right and be in charge. He wants to be smart, he wants to be the best. He’s arrogant and self centered.

Racquetball is the opposite. Even in the physical sense. In chess, one must sit down and think precisely about every move. Racquetball is fast paced and you’re constantly moving. But what it shows is that Marvin now knows that his love for Whizzer is more important than all of those selfish things before. He’s ok with being bad at something. He is jokingly disappointed when he loses or makes a mistake, but he’s also happy to do something with Whizzer that Whizzer will always win.

The racquetball games are proof that Marvin has a better understanding of love. It’s no longer self serving but instead a true partnership. He doesn’t expect to be treated like a king, but finally as an equal. It makes both of them so much happier and their relationship so much more fulfilling.

Not to mention, that’s what makes the second round of racquetball games so sad. Whizzer collapses while doing the thing that was so fun for him and Marvin. Their last happy and innocent memory is the game that helped them overcome their strongest relationship struggles.

Anyways this is too long I’m done now I’m gonna go cry about them.

[misterbenzadrine]

♡ day 2: eli "hawk" moskowitz ♡

MY SHAYLAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

okay so like many other fans, i recognized jacob from his disney/nick days (namely icarly, marvin marvin, jinxed and, obviously, kirby buckets) so i knew his name but i was also still a kid so every time he came on screen, he was only kirby buckets. ("aww they're all bullying kirby buckets" "no way they put kirby buckets in a mohawk" "dude he totally kicked kirby buckets into that trophy case") JUST THE FIRST TWO SEASONS I PROMISE, it's kinda funny in retrospect lmao

(side note: i also recognized mary, xolo, and peyton so it was really funny to put their ck storylines in their previous projects' context. "woah emma/savannah from frenemies just kissed victor from parenthood ! but so did emma from jessie and now she's beating up emma/savannah ?? OMG VICTOR JUST FELL OFF THE BALCONY")

so anyways since i recognized him, he was one of the only three characters i took notice of (the other two being johnny and miguel obvi) and he always has been one of the most interesting characters of the show. ik i sound like a broken record at this point but HE MAKES THE SHOW WHAT IT IS.

he's very pushed back toward the end of the series (namely s5 and 6). but he plays a big role in the story in general BECAUSE he is the only one that demonstrates the mental effect karate has had on the kids IN A VISIBLE WAY. (eli's hair as a metaphor for his mental state, how i love thee)

so he starts out with almost no lines, he's bullied, and he comes as a duo with demetri, but he's so CUTIE. bro's literally just kind of existing. AND he has short blonde hair, nice slicked to the side, a spiffy little gentleman. i loved his wardrobe too, it wasn't even all one aesthetic like demetri's, it kinda bounces between your grandpa's closet and human bean bag. i love the colors and textures and patterns I LOVE ELI.

while miguel, demetri, and eli are all bullied from the beginning, eli's is worse bc of his lip scar (which i think is incredibly ridiculous but i know kids suck sometimes). and eli is PERFECT to be the middle man between demetri and miguel. while miguel is actively doing something about it (karate) and demetri is actively doing nothing about it (accepting his fate and waiting to graduate), eli is at a standstill. he could stay by demetri's side like he's done for YEARS, practically his whole life, never stand up for himself, duck his head and wait for graduation, or he could try something new and follow in miguel's footsteps. and after the cafeteria fight, miguel's obviously doing SOMETHING right so hook, line, sinker. (also eli applauding miguel after the fight is so cute, i love seeing is sixteen lone pixels in the corner of the screen with his little stoner hoodie) (also demetri's four pixels in the background)

eli's obviously ENRAPTURED by karate and convinces demetri to join, he even sticks with it when demetri quits bc he's REALLY dedicated. he really wants to learn karate, and he really wants to learn from johnny how to get a miguel-type transformation, how to fight, how to gain confidence, how to stop getting bullied, how to be cool. again, we as viewers know that as pure as johnny's intentions may be, his advice is obviously flawed and outdated. but the kids don't know that. so they drink in every word he says bc, to them, he's the coolest adult they've ever met (again, bc this is a show WROUGHT with absentee parents and abandonment issues, these kids put WAY TOO MUCH TRUST IN HIM)

even though he runs off when johnny lays into his lip, he obviously got what he wanted (not in a way he SHOULD have but), johnny tells him (from johnny's obviously brilliant perspective /s) exactly how to stop being that scared little kid in the cafeteria and how to become cool. which is basically that he needs to distract from his lip if he doesn't want people looking at it. (you don't need to bookie, people suck but there's a whole other world out there <3)

so he gets the mohawk. i like seeing fic writers' rationale for why he chose a MOHAWK and not another more trendy hairstyle. and personally i've never been that BIG of a fan of the mohawk, it grows on you over time obviously and it's easy to forget it's there but it feels like such an eyesore sometimes, probably bc i know that's not jacob's preferred hairstyle. but there is one rationale that is SO interesting. i'd love to say the writers knew but i try not to put too much faith in them.

mohawks apparently originated as a native american tradition to symbolize courage. it was a sign of strength. so how FITTING that eli would choose a mohawk to debut his new display of courage. the writers most likely chose it bc of the punk movement, which also works, but either way, i love the idea of eli sitting at home with red puffy eyes just stumbling on this information and deciding to take a risk for ONCE, immediately going to the store and buying out all the hair gel and hair dye and spending the whole night dyeing his hair and figuring out how to style it perfectly. WAIT IM GONNA ADD THIS TO THE HEADCANON LIST THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE THING.

but either way (fuckass traffic cone aside) he gets the mohawk, and he's suddenly really confident, then comes the tattoo, the personality, and the girlfriend (moon you deserve better than to be diminished down to hawk's gf. you need to run free with your crystals and weed without a closeted bisexual manic karate man holding you down.) (moon and ali parallels??)

so hawk getting the makeover is viewer shorthand for johnny's success. not to say it should be diminished down to just johnny's doing. but hawk becoming confident, becoming popular and, in a much starker way than miguel, going from zero to hero in just a few months shows that johnny really is making these kids stronger. his influence is far more powerful than he or daniel could've imagined. and it shows, through the length and the blue and black that contrasts his blonde hair, just how big this influence is on the kids.

his blue era is cute, and the black roots definitely hint toward something darker brewing below the surface. but i truly do love blue-hawk. his bickering with demetri, while NOW we see it as angst, really was just silly bickering. just two vocal personalities colliding but still supporting each other, just separately instead of codependently like they've been their whole lives. (me when they obviously still spent time together and demetri was at every single one of hawk's events after he joined cobra kai) (s1/2 hawkmetri you are so special to me)

him color coordinating his mohawks with his outfits are so important to me, i know that's BECAUSE his hair color and clothes are reflective of his mentality but it's so cute in-universe (the costume/hmu departments knew EXACTLY what they were doing)

HIS RED-HAWK PHASE I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT. so obvi his red hair is reflective of the time when he FULLY embraces cobra kai, from the beginning of s2 to somewhere in s4. but this is ALSO the time he starts styling his hair in chunks rather than the simple spiked gradient he had before. i can't say exactly what this means. maybe it symbolizes a fractured personality? compartmentalizing? maybe that he's taking more risks? maybe just that it looks more dangerous? if anyone would like to answer that, be my guess, it could genuinely be anything.

another thing i noticed but i don't think i can concretely say anything about is the fact that toward the beginning and end of this phase, he wears a lot of black with hints of red (either like the stripes of his sweater during the school fight or just having red in his hair). this might be his inner turmoil? at the beginning, he for sure was highly unstable but it didn't bother him in the same way it was toward the end. then in the larusso house fight, he has the yellow shirt with the red jacket, which is obviously him kind of shedding his snake skin type of thing. AND the red shirt he wears at the beginning of s4 is a very faded red, which is so cute. he's like again growing away from cobra kai's influence. I LOVE COSTUME DEPARTMENTS FOR THIS EXACT REASON. idk again if someone can explain this more that'd be great but it's really cool nonetheless !

so he spends his whole red-hawk phase being a jerk, blah blah blah i could make a whole post on its own for this phase. BUT SOMETHING I WOULD LIKE TO YAP ABOUT THAT DOESN'T REALLY HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING:

i love hawk, i do, this whole post proves i do. and i say this with love. FUCK HAWK FOR THE GOLF N STUFF FIGHT. no he didn't "technically" start it, and demetri haters/hawk dickriders LOVE to bring up s6 to defend him, it's giving this tweet:

like, i say this as a hawk fan, do some of y'all realize how DELUSIONAL you sound? 😭 "demetri wouldn't call him hawk :(" NEWSFLASH, HE DOESN'T HAVE TO. he's his own person. hawk easily could just cut him off and stop being friends with him. easy, simple. people cut contact with friends all the time for deadnaming, it's really not any different for a nickname. "b-but demetri wouldn't stop yapping about mit !" first of all, you're THREE seasons and a full year too early. second of all, demetri has his own reasons for being upset about mit (which is its own thing entirely) but that doesn't mean he deserves to get his arm broken. ESPECIALLY by his ex-boybest friend

now i'm sure some people may be wondering why i don't hate robby for worse. that's a very good question. and i'll settle on this: the panic is evident on robby's face. the whole balcony thing was spur of the moment, he didn't hesitate and weigh his options. he just did it. and he obviously didn't INTEND to kick him off the balcony. he didn't know it was so close or that miguel would fall. he just kicked him bc he was blinded by rage and wanted to win a stupid fight. ALSO robby and miguel have been enemies since DAY ONE. they always hated each other up to that point. what he did was obviously wrong but he didn't realize the severity of what he was doing and he eventually dealt with the consequences.

HOWEVER COMMA (i could write a whole essay on this but i'll reign it in) hawk obviously isn't panicked enough about what he just did since he's able to play along with the cobra kais for a second before they leave, hawk HESITATED when he had demetri pinned which means he obviously thought through and willingly broke demetri's arm, he knew it would break, demetri had NEVER been his enemy before all the karate drama, and hawk NEVER DEALT WITH THE CONSEQUENCES OF THIS. this was an actual felony ! hawk could actually get arrested and sued for this ! this could've been something on his permanent record ! that could ruin his life ! he could've and SHOULD'VE had the same consequences that robby suffered ! but he never faces the consequences. and while robby is forced into this storyline where he and tory can't get into most colleges bc of their record, hawk gets to walk free and apply wherever he wants.

we know, if nothing else, demetri seems to check all the boxes for a normal friend. nothing INHERENTLY pointing to a bad friend. and to add to this, moon, someone who didn't grow up by eli's side and didn't know eli, just his hawk persona, someone with AN OUTSIDER'S PERSPECTIVE, dumps him bc she doesn't like how aggressive and mean he's becoming (specifically toward demetri).

ergo, there's no good justification for him to break his arm, nothing redeeming anyway. so why did he break his arm? a million fanon reasons for why but none canon. BECAUSE THEY NEVER TALK ABOUT IT. an apology should be the least he could do, right? the bare minimum of just "i'm really sorry about your arm, man. all i could see was red and next thing i knew you were screaming and holding your broken arm. i'd take it back if i could." but weird, huh, that's- no, yeah, that's literally just robby's apology to miguel for the balcony. because ROBBY apologized, he and miguel TALKED IT OUT.

all demetri got was "i'm sorry for all of it, wanna help me win this thing?" nothing specific. he just clumps in the entire year into "all of it", as if calling him a pussy and breaking his arm are in the same category. he could've rushed out a similar apology but directly point out the arm and i would've forgiven that MORE than what they did.

then boom they're besties in the next scene. admittedly, in s4, after robby shaves his hair, and he has his self-pity spiral, he says "i just proved i was an asshole...especially to you." well yes, eli moskowitz ! that's an inkling of an apology ! but then he has to play the self-deprecating card and takes a different route from an apology by saying "i got what i deserved." like yeah, you kinda did, but that still doesn't sound like an apology.

then they move on ! and it's never mentioned again until s6 pt 1. S6 PT 1, HOW I LOVED THEE. when it came out, i was so excited, like omg ! demetri's FINALLY crashing out like every other character already has ! he's finally gonna show hawk that what he did was INCREDIBLY fucked up and he needs more than one "i'm sorry" to excuse an actual FELONY.

but then pt 2 came out and just completely 180'd. "whoever denied it supplied it 🤓" my brother in christ, you broke this man's arm and bullied him into oblivion, what are you doing with these fart allegations? and obviously, i'm familiar with the ck writers' tendency to drop storylines but damn, they dropped the severity of their fight in ONE episode, e5 to e6, that's an insane feat even for them sjdkjfdk

anyways, most of what i wanted to talk about with hawk was the arm break and his mohawk, and i basically covered all that. all i can say for the later seasons is i LOVED his purple mohawk but the faux hawk was BY FAR his best look, i fear i will never get over it. (no one mention that fuckass american mohawk, i hate it i hate it i hate it)

also i would love to applaud jacob. i don't know what he does to get into hawk's mentality or what he thinks hawk's motives are but like how did he manage to make a character so INCREDIBLY bisexual that it's pretty undeniable to fans and non-fans. like yes, gianni is naturally tall, moreso than jacob, and he is personally really cute. so it's probably natural that everyone might look at him like THAT. but no one else does. the way THAT MAN SPECIFICALLY looks at him. like jacob?? hello??? i want to interview him so badly and ask what could POSSIBLY be going through his mind every time he looks at gianni's lips and eyes like THAT

and it's not even like an out of context screenshot, HE STARES AT HIM THIS WHOLE SCENE AND IN OTHER SCENES THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE SHOW

i just know if jacob and gianni had control, they'd make hawkmetri canon

i feel it in my soul

i love this bisexual ball of anger, he's my pookie

!! headcanons !!

I'm gonna try not to repeat everything i already put on my hawkmetri hc list but i'll summarize the main ones

BISEXUAL AND AUTISTIC !!

jewish eli !!

short social battery, likes demetri talking for him sometimes, takes long naps after hang outs

anger issues 🙏

OKAY SO as mentioned previously in this post, he totally sat in bed sobbing to himself about being embarrassed by johnny but at this point, too frustrated and angry to actually want to talk to demetri or miguel. he stumbled upon the symbolism of mohawks (maybe someone doing a deep dive on spider punk) and he decided to throw caution to the wind (since he's too pissed off to care) and he spends all night dyeing his hair and learning to style it before he feels satisfied with it and goes back to the dojo with a new confidence (esp after johnny praises him)

SAMHAWK BESTIES >>>>

hawk, at first, didn't understand how sam could switch from bonsai badass samantha larusso to an exhausted, scared little girl named sam. (just wondering what could've possibly rained on that princess's perfect little parade to make her look like her dog died.) it was seeing demetri treat sam the way he so often treated eli after bad bullying days that made him realize she also got panic attacks/overwhelmed. he still doesn't know how to make someone feel better (demetri's never been one to open up and miguel usually feels better after a little pep talk) but he's started inviting sam over to help build lego models. he figures there's no talking required and they can just listen to the music they have in common. 

sam notices hawk get sensory overload (which she picked up some understanding of it from demetri) and asks him to help her put her hair in braids. he doesn't know wtf he's doing and they come out really bad (which she fixes on her own privately) but gently pulling her hair into smaller strands and following a pattern does help him focus and calm down. it becomes a routine to the point where he automatically goes to her and asks if she needs help to signal he needs to calm down. he eventually gets better at it and devon starts asking him for help occasionally

demetri will always be his number one but directly under him is moon, miguel and sam. (and chozen obvi, they're locked in like miguel and johnny)

he wears his hair down around demetri, occasionally miguel but he always has it up. he's not really sure if it comes from his insecurity in his lip or if it's just routine at this point but he almost refuses for anyone to see him without the mohawk, which is why the mohawk shaving hits him so hard.

he gets along really well with all the miyagi-do kids now but sometimes he'll still hear them mention inside jokes from his time in cobra kai or act incredibly friendly with demetri and he just gets really sad for a few hours thinking about how much he missed while he was off being an asshole

he actually gets kind of sad and mad when anyone acts like they're demetri's best friend. he knows logically they're all friends now but it aggravates him knowing just two years ago, none of these people gave him and demetri a second glance but all of a sudden they act like they know everything about him (jealous eli my beloved)

part of his rationale for the mohawk was to protect demetri (but demetri seemed to hate his switch so much that the motivation quickly went out the window)

he asked for demetri's help to dye his hair purple and back to blue at the end of s5 (and the new teal hawk in pt 3 :3)

a lot of his codependency on demetri stems from him being his only friend for so long and being one of the only people that was nice to him obvi but it's also bc demetri seems to have a sixth sense for all things hawk. it might be neurodivergent solidarity or maybe demetri's just naturally a really good caretaker, but hawk doesn't feel as comfortable anywhere else than by demetri's side.

he definitely hates himself for the red hawk stint and that he let his anger issues get out of control enough to do ALL THAT. (his actions definitely made him angrier until it was a vicious cycle) (angry bc he can't go back to demetri. angry at demetri for not accepting him. not able to go to demetri bc he's angry. rinse and repeat.)

final thoughts: hawk moskowitz, you are peak. i love you so much. i know the canon won't let you be canonically bi or autistic bc the writers don't want their "alpha sigma bro" to be seen as "woke" or anything. but i know you, i feel you, i understand you. while i might be disappointed with how you turn out in the finale, i know you've inspired so many people. your growth and your mistakes make you human, and it's been amazing to see a character with such a great non-linear growth. and to have such a badass character canonically be a nerd, YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME. I WILL MISS YOU SO MUCH BOOKIE, SAFE TRAVELS SOLDIER, GOOD LUCK

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

*image of Jensen Ackles is used with permission of the photographer Mandi Lea Photography.

Summary for this chapter: That ad wasn't wrong after all; she just needed to stick with the right neighbors.

Characters in this chapter: AU Soldier Boy x OFC Brandy Miller, Maggie Shaw, Annie January, Hughie Campbell, William Butcher, Marvin Milk

Rating/warnings/tags for this chapter: 18+ ONLY, narcissism, misogynist language, emotional manipulation, mentions of abuse of power dynamics

Words in this chapter: 3,800

Author’s notes: This fills my #In Vino Veritas square for @jacklesversebingo

Final Chapter here! Thank you all for sticking with me on this perilous journey. 😅 If you’ve read my stuff before, you know I generally steer clear of spoiler-y tags. That said, I feel obligated to tell you that Soldier Boy (in this AU fic and canonically speaking) is a malignant narcissist, and I will never be able to write him into a love story. As someone who has endured an experience like this AU, I don’t find any of his traits endearing or redeemable.

If you’ve come this far and are unsatisfied with this spoiler as an ending, I hope you at least appreciated the ride.

@talltalesandbedtimestories, thank you for your kindness, patience, and sharing. @bigmouthlass, thank you for being you and being honest. @deanwinchesterswitch, thanks for the laughs and support. xox

@stunudo, you’re my rock. You get me. I love you.

Yo, @brrose-apothecary, I did it!

Spotify Playlist - key songs for this chapter: “Where Did You Sleep Last Night?” by Nirvana, “Low” by Cracker, “The Trick Is To Keep Breathing” by Garbage, “Get Gone” by Fiona Apple, “Glycerine” by Bush

CHAPTER SIX: In Vino Veritas

“Redbreast is best,” Maggie says, cracking the seal of the Fifth Edition Dream Cask. “Let’s take it easy, though; this bottle wasn’t cheap. Plus, 56.9 ABV, so...”

She hands me a crystal tumbler with three fingers of figgy liquid leather.

“In wine, there is truth,” she says, holding her own glass aloft to toast a second time this evening. “In whiskey, there’s wisdom.”

We clink glasses before swirling and sniffing and taking our first sips. 

“Well,” I breathe. “If this doesn’t fix me, nothing will.”

Maggie clicks her tongue. “You’re gonna fix yourself, a chara. This’ll just limber you up.”

I look into my glass at the dark caramel liquid. “I should warn you that I’m super hungover and feeling about two feet tall, but you were right.”

“I usually am.”

I meet her eyes. “You told me I couldn’t win, that he had no moral compass, but,” I sigh. “I thought I could just fuck him out of my system or something.”

She nods, her eyes giving away the magnitude of grief she feels for me at that moment. “So what happened?” 

“He found a weakness, I guess.”

“And exploited the fuck out of it.” 

“Literally.”

She scoffs. “That’s his MO.”

“And I knew that. I knew what kind of man he was. I feel so fucking stupid.”

“Brandy, he’s not some run-of-the-mill fuck boy, he’s a malignant fucking narcissist. He’s a master at this.”

“Isn’t everyone a narcissist these days?” I mutter and roll my eyes, sipping my whiskey.

“No, but he is. This is what I’m saying. You can feel stupid all day long, and I can say I told you so, but he gets off on stalking the hardest-won prey. ”

“I wouldn’t say I was hard-won, Mags. I walked in there, knowing everything.” I shake my head.

“But, you don’t know everything. You have great instincts, I’ll give you that, and you’re a strong woman. But the man you thought you could play with for a while to get your kicks is an apex predator.”

“All men are predators at their core. Some just evolve.”

“Yeah, and some fine-tune their predation. Like Soldier Boy.”

“You know, he’s made me come a million times in ways I didn’t even know were possible, but I still don’t even know what to call him? This morning, I made the apparent mistake of calling him Ben.”

She arches a brow. “How was that a mistake?”

I shrug. “He went from zero to 60 because that’s his dad’s name? Like, dude, you have the exact same name as your dad, what the fuck.”

“Brandy.” She reaches across the space between us and clasps my hand in hers. “Did he hurt you?”

I flick my eyes to hers and shake my head. “No! He’s just so fucking aggro.”

She sighs and squeezes my hand before relaxing back into her side of the couch. “What else?” 

I close my eyes and think back about that first morning in our car park. He was infuriating and compelling — the kind of challenge that I can’t resist. With one look and less than a dozen words, he stripped me bare, and I wanted payback. 

“I jumped in with both feet, thought I set boundaries- but I didn’t think about the consequences or the after. I was so distracted by all the little fires he lit inside me — in my chest and my gut and my brain — all systems go.”

Maggie’s brow furrows as she watches me intently.

“I wanted to tear into him and devour him whole, show him something. And then,” — I pause, recalling dreams and reality as they unfurl and intertwine in my mind — “Once I finally had him, when it was no longer just a wet dream, everything turned upside down. I was so buzzed that I didn’t care about my pride anymore. I just wanted him.” 

“Sounds... intense,” she replies, more cautiously than my usual Maggie.

“Like an ozone fire after years in the Arctic. Sex with him is on a level I never knew existed.” I pause and take a sip, and Maggie doesn’t say a word. 

“But it isn’t just the sex. It’s the way he is, the way he talks, the things he says-”

“What does he say?” she asks quietly.

“He repeats things back to me, out of context and amplified.”

Her jaw tightens. “Uses your words against you.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t feel like that at the time; it felt like a secret, hot and intimate. It’s stifling now that I’m recalling it while I’m sober.”

Maggie closes her eyes and draws a deep breath, then takes a long pull from her glass. The space she’s given me, away from him and the overwhelming need, is a safe, forgiving space, and I feel undeserving. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?!” she exclaims. 

“Because I willfully walked into this with him. Like I was immune.”

“You didn’t know, Brandy. Just get that out of your head. You didn’t know what you were walking into. And even if you did, we’ve all done things we regret.”

“I wasn’t supposed to regret it.”

“And I can imagine that’s what’s tearing you up the most. You’re smart, strong, and self-possessed, but you’re also human. We’re fallible and fragile. If you take anything away from this, let it be a lesson in humility, not humiliation.”

We appreciate our whiskey in silence, my mind and heart racing. 

It is a pride thing for me, and always has been. At some point, I’ll have to admit that I lost a game for which I didn’t know the rules. Until then, I’ll accept Maggie’s kindness and guidance.

“Maybe we should get to that unpacking thing?”

She nods, downing the rest of her whiskey before setting her glass aside. “Let me ask you one last thing.”

“Okay.” I stand and swipe my hands down the front of my thighs like I’m brushing dirt to the floor.

“And I need you to be honest with yourself.” Maggie remains seated, looking up at me.

My stomach flips a little, and I nod, shifting my weight. “Shoot.” 

“Are you in love with him?”

I hesitate before slowly shaking my head. “This is so far from love. But- I’m twisted up inside. Standing here right now, I’m jonesing for his hands on me and his voice in my ears.”

She nods and stands. “I’m gonna tell you a couple of stories while you help me put my shit away, and I recommend you talk to Annie.”

She grabs her roller bag and wheels it down her hall toward her bedroom, and I follow.

“Hughie told me that she grew up in the Davis house or something.”

Maggie’s stoic equanimity remains a thin veil over her genuine concern. “There’s more to that story, and it isn’t mine to tell. But you should know that he has two ex-wives, one of whom is in prison because of the chaos he wreaked.”

“He told me he was married before, but not about prison,”

Maggie hoists her bag up onto her bed and unzips it, clothes and other items popping and spilling from the opening seam.

“To hear him tell it, they’re a couple of ‘psycho bitches’, but I think we all know what that means.”

I stand beside her, nodding, his words to his buddy Earving echoing in my head.

“That bitch is crazier than a shithouse rat.”

As we sort her clothes, shoes, and toiletries, Maggie tells me about Misty, John’s mom, who is now in prison for domestic assault, battery, and child abuse. 

“The Davises’ attorney did a number on her. I’m not a Misty Tucker Gray fan, but no one deserves what they put her through. There’s a reason they call the Davises’ lawyer The Legend, I guess.”

“Poor John,” I mutter, smoothing and refolding rumpled shirts and jeans.

“Yeah, I don’t know what kind of person you gotta be to put a woman and her child through that for a buck,” Maggie replies. “And then, there’s Klara, who’s arguably just as fucked up as the rest of them. Misty’s a weird little redneck, but Klara’s practically Hitler compared to her. As far as I know, she and BJ are still on and off. They’re both toxic as fuck and deserve each other.” 

The guffaw that escapes me feels like it’s been yanked from my chest by a pair of rusty jaw pliers. “He pretended to be so forthcoming with information about his divorces and his inability to maintain a relationship. Turns out the real kicker was who and how, not just that he has two ex-wives. Jesus Christ.”

I slump down to sit on the edge of her bed, and Maggie continues to fold.

“I’m not telling you these things to make you feel worse or embarrass you, so shake it off, okay?” My sharp-tongued friend re-emerges, scooping up a pile of clothes to tuck in her chest of drawers. “But he’s gotten under your skin, Brandy.”

She turns back toward the bed and saunters toward me. “And you need to dig him out and curb-stomp the motherfucker.”

After a full night’s sleep, I take the next day off from work to get my house in order, literally and figuratively. I’m deep in my feelings and thoughts when my phone vibrates.

From parts unknown, I receive a text and a dick pic.

BJ: Miss me, angel? 

I swipe to delete the chat entirely, then think better of it. Instead, I open my messages with Annie. Two hours later, Annie and I are sat in a booth at Scarfalloto’s with two Bloody Marys and a sampler platter of fried food on the way.

“Annie, I meant what I said; I don’t want you to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. Maggie just thought I needed a wake-up call, but I don’t want to put you in a weird position.”

“No, I want to tell you. It’s good for me to talk about it, anyway.”

“Okay. I also appreciate talking it out.” We smile at our server as they set our food in the middle of the table before walking away.

“After my dad left,” Annie jumps into her story. “My mom got a job as the Davises’ housekeeper. I was four years old and lived there until I went to college.”

I nod, digging into the mozzarella sticks. “Hughie said it was after BJ moved out?”

“After they kicked him out, yeah. Ben wanted Tripp- er, BJ, to go into the steel business. BJ didn’t want to be told what to do, yadda yadda, so he enlisted in the Marines.” She sips her Bloody Mary and eyes me carefully.

“That seems like an odd choice for someone not wanting to be told what to do,” I reply.

“No, shit, but he also likes defying his parents in general, so..” Annie shrugs. “Anyway, my mom eventually became the house manager and was usually too busy for me, so Mrs. Davis kind of looked after me. She’s a tough lady, but she was good to me. Sometimes better than my own mom.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you get along with your mom now?”

“There’s still a lot of tension.” She rips a chicken tender in half before dipping it into a sauce and staying on topic. “Five years after he left, after being nothing more than a whisper, he came home for 60 days of leave with an infant.”

“John, I assume?”

“Yeah. BJ got a local girl pregnant one of the other times he was back for leave but neglected to tell his parents. He married her at some point, dragged her through the mud, and dumped her.”

I shake my head. “Maggie said she’s in prison.” 

Annie nods, chewing her bite of chicken. “Everyone talked about her like she was some lunatic, but I met her once when she was visiting John, and she wasn’t, Brandy. She was sad and angry, but she wasn’t a danger to anyone, especially not her son.

I continue to listen, wondering exactly where this is going.

“As I got older, I babysat John. He was a sweet kid like I told you. BJ started buying alcohol for my girlfriends and me as ‘thank you’ or whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “He always had weed, and everyone was wetting their pants over him once we hit puberty.” 

“He’s handsome and charming; I can imagine he’d be a big hit to unsuspecting teenagers.”

“You can say that again,” she grumbles. “When I was 17, I was granted early admission to Penn with the help of the Davises. My senior year was a high note, for sure. I felt like the coolest kid in school.”

“Why do I feel like you’re leading up to something more than a history lesson?” I ask, and Annie freezes.

She looks me in the eyes. “I went to him.”

My blood runs cold. “Annie-”

“I didn’t want to go to college as a virgin. All my friends had already had sex, but my mom was so protective, except when it came to Tripp.”

I close my eyes and sigh, sitting back in my chair as she continues.

“He was hesitant at first. Now I realize that he was calculating in his head how not to get caught, not whether he should or shouldn’t.” She wipes her hands on a napkin before taking another sip of her drink. “As first times go and on strictly pleasure-based terms, I got lucky. He was good at everything. He took his time, and he showed me all kinds of things I’d never even heard about. Over the course of that summer, I fell for the man I thought he was.”

I reach for her hand and she gives me a small, tight smile. “I’m sorry, Annie.”

She shakes her head. “It’s no one’s fault but his.” She takes her hand back to reach for her drink again. “I was head over heels, and in a quandary, because I was leaving for Penn, wondering how I’d make it work with a 35-year-old active-duty Marine. Until one morning, I snuck down to his cottage for a quickie before breakfast, and lo and behold, there was Klara.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Yeah. It’s laughable now, but at the time, I was devastated. Humiliated, hurt, feeling like the most insignificant piece of trash. The way they looked at me.” 

“That’s fucking horrible. You deserve better.”

“That’s my point in telling you this. You said it yourself; he’s charming and handsome, and at some point, you have to forgive yourself.”

I sigh and nod. “Is that what you did?”

She nods back. “After years of therapy, yeah.”

I take a long sip of my Bloody Mary and wave down the server. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m always here for a sister in need.”

The server arrives, and I request two shots of Herradura.

“I owe you big.”

Annie shakes her head. “Just don’t go back to him.”

“Deal,” I agree, reaching for the last mozzarella stick.

For the next two weeks, Maggie is so far up my ass that I barely have a moment to myself. Between her and BJ’s sprinkling of suggestive text messages and blatant snaps of his cock, my time is not my own.

“Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” Maggie asks.

“I dunno. It just feels weird. I haven’t replied, though!”

“How many dick pics has he sent you since he left?” 

“Three.”

“Brandy.”

“I know. Blocking now.”

It takes me about 10 days to stop feeling sorry for myself, but as Maggie and Annie both remind me, there is nothing simple, linear, or pleasant and recovery. I’m lucky that he’s gone as long as he is because even with reinforcements, I don’t trust myself around him.

On the first nice evening in a long time, I agree to meet Maggie, Annie, and Hughie at Butcher’s for Happy Hour. Since I’m always early, and the sun has yet to set, I’m hanging out on the picnic table, texting about weekend dinner plans with Kimiko, when I hear him.

“Heya, Applejack.”

My body instantly reacts to his deep, rich voice. I look up as he approaches, and my breath catches in my chest. The sun hits him just right — eyes glistening like moss agate, sharp, white smile, flecks of silver and red in his fully grown back beard.

Then, I recognize the edge to his smile and the darkness in his eyes. 

“Did you get my texts?” he asks, coming to a stop directly in front of me. 

“You mean your dick pics?” I pocket my phone mid-sentence to Kimiko.

He smirks and chuckles. “I typed words, too. Didn’t feel like replying?”

I try to stand from the tabletop, but he doesn’t move. “I’ve been busy,” I answer.

“That right.” He looks around the parking lot. “You waiting for someone?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting friends.”

“Friends,” he repeats and arches a brow. “Don’t suppose these friends of yours are the pansy and the princess who live across the hall from me?”

I sigh, feeling trapped and under interrogation, like I’ve done something wrong. “BJ-”

“There it is.” He reaches out to brush a stray curl behind my ear. “I missed you, angel. Did you miss me?”

I shake my head and swallow the lump forming in my throat. “How old was she?”

“Who?” he asks, to his credit, looking somewhat confused.

I tilt my head and narrow my eyes in a glare.

Then it dawns on him, and he scoffs. “ You mean sweet little Annie January?” 

I can’t stop my lip from curling. “That one, yeah.”

He takes a step back and slides a hand into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

“When I got her high the first time, or when I popped her cherry?” He lights a cigarette and exhales to the side.

My stomach churns, and my skin prickles. “I already know the story; I just wanna hear you say it.”

“Eighteen. Totally legal.” He repockets his cigarettes and lighter and watches me as he smokes.

“Legal.” I finally slide off the table to stand.

“Isn’t that what you’re trying to suss out? If I’m the bad guy? Broke the law?”

I shake my head. “Legality has nothing to do with this. You’re a fucking predator.”

He laughs on another exhale, casually cruel and sickening. “Look, she came to me because she trusted me. She didn’t wanna go off to college not knowing what a man can do, so I helped her out.”

“You exploited a young girl’s trust.”

Saying it out loud makes my skin crawl.

“I gave her what she wanted, just like I gave you.” He gestures to me with his smoldering Marlboro red. 

“Your relationship with a child who you watched grow up in your family home is nothing you can compare to us.”

“That’s true.” He nods, taking another drag, hotboxing his smoke. “I can’t and don’t compare you to an inexperienced little girl. You’re like me, Brandy. You want what you want, and you take it.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

“You’re not?” He takes a step toward me, and I shift to the side to not get trapped between him and the table. “You walked into my house, eyes and legs wide open. You wanted all of this. You’re a grown woman, and you knew exactly who I was before I ever told you.”

“And I made a mistake. One I won’t be repeating.” I turn to head to the entrance of the bar, but he cuts me off.

“I never lied to you, and I never held anything back. But now you’re pissed because you found out some things you should’ve already known. I’m not a good guy, Brandy, and that’s exactly what you liked about me.”

“I liked-”

“You like the way I talk to you and the way I touch you and fuck you. Because there’s never been another man big enough to treat you the way you deserve.”

I close my eyes, and he crowds in, quiet and low in my ear.

“And you said you didn’t want anything else. You didn’t want a relationship or a ring or fucking china, yet here you are dragging me for being exactly what you knew all along.”

“I’m not having this conversation anymore.” I shift to the other side, and he blocks me again.

“That’s alright, we don’t have to talk. That’s our thing, isn’t it? No talking, no reality, just debauched fucking indulgence and avoidance of the world outside.” He flicks his cigarette to the gravel and reaches for my wrist.

“Oi!”

My head snaps to the alley behind us, where Billy Butcher’s holding a bag of trash. 

“This fuckin’ guy,” BJ mutters. “The fuck do you want, Butcher?”

“Need you to let the lady pass, mate.”

BJ’s gaze slides to mine, and holds it. “We’re just having a little chat. You should mind your own business.”

“This is my business. My parking lot and my hours of operation. What happens in this entire vicinity is my business. And you need to let her pass.”

Butcher tosses the bag into the dumpster and begins to walk toward us. BJ’s jaw tightens, and he straightens to his full height, squaring his shoulders. MM appears behind Butcher in the alley and BJ snarls.

“Just go,” I say. “ We’re done. I’m done.”

BJ doesn’t take his eyes off Butcher and MM until the voices and laughter of my friends break the tension of the moment.

“Well, looks like the cavalry’s arrived,” he sneers at me as he reaches into his pocket again, producing his key fob. “It was fun while it lasted, angel.”

He gives me one last glare that chills me to the bone before walking to his motorcycle, swinging a leg over the saddle, and starting it up.

“Hey,” Maggie appears at my side, running a hand up and down my arm as BJ roars from the parking lot. “You okay?”

I nod, looking to Annie, who gives me a small but triumphant smile. “I’m good, but I could eat.”

“You sure?” Maggie asks.

“I’m starving,” I reassure her, and she grins, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

“Hey, Butcher!” Hughie calls out. “What’s the special tonight?” 

“Get inside and order, dumbass,” MM grumbles, following Butcher as he retreats through the back door.

We order food and shots, we snark and laugh, and not one person mentions Captain BJ. These people welcomed me in and rallied around me the way neighbors are supposed to do. They opened the shades and let the light in. They showed me that people are who they say they are and that sometimes that’s a terrible thing, but most of the time, it’s fucking fantastic.

The End!

Series Master List | Other Soldier Boy Fic

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Television - CBGB, New York City, Early 1975

Over on Aquarium Drunkard, take a listen to several Television sets from their early 1975 residency at CBGB. Always fun to revisit the Richard Hell era of the band, which at this point was rapidly coming to an end. In the writeup, I quote liberally from Lucy Sante's "Maybe The People Would Be The Times" essay, which evokes those bygone days perfectly — go buy the entire book of the same name, you will not regret it.

Here's a little more from Lucy:

The year begins when Marvin Gaye calls in sick and the Apollo gives us our money back. The alternative option is a rumor, really, although it’s been going on for half a year. After a very long subway ride, we arrive at a tunnel of a bar under a bum hotel on the Bowery with a pool table and a stage in the back: CBGB. Onstage four guys in shirt jacs, conspicuous lack of overt theatrics, shaker bars on the guitars: Television. The poster has a blurb from Nick Ray, of all people—four cats with a passion—and another from someone named Scott Cohen: killers. sharp as tacks. they made me cry. This is something else, we think, as they blast into a cover of “Psychotic Reaction,” by the Count Five. At first glance, they’re channeling 1966: the clothes, the covers, and when they talk, they sound like Mitch Ryder or somebody, that not-quite-black hepped-up hoodlum corner talk affected by all the guys who wore winklepickers in 1966.

The words to the songs likewise convey mod menace: “I look at you / I get a double exposure” or “Prove it / Just the facts / Confidentially.” The bass player, who seems to enjoy jumping up and landing on his knees, has a ditty with a chorus that goes: “I belong to the [ pause] blank generation.” But it’s also about how the twin leads snake around each other as if they are each holding knives, how lyrical passages turn without warning into dissonant slashing fury, how the drummer carves the beat out of flurries of paradiddles, like he’s been absorbing Elvin Jones—how the unstable field of noise constantly threatens to crash and burn.

And that makes the music right for the world outside: the persistent breakdown of all structures, the vacated certainties and the welcoming randomness, the retreating future and imminent prehistory. Tom Verlaine sings about how “Broadway / Looks so medieval,” and so it is, our moment the great shipwreck of time. All the contents of previous decades and centuries are heaped up on the sidewalks for us to pick through and select and repurpose or discard. Nobody else seems to want this lurching hulk of a city, headed to the honor farm like a former star given to paregoric and shoplifting, so it has de facto been ceded to us self-appointed guttersnipes, and maybe someday we will rule it, although for now we’re content to pick at its scabs. The Bowery is our ancestral home, that broad empty boulevard running from nowhere to nowhere lined with pedigreed hovels inhabited by ghosts, where in one tiny establishment every night is New Year’s Eve, and we’re all contestants for Miss Hitchhiker of 1976.

[zahri-melitor]

Batman v Ra's Al Ghul, by Neal Adams: A Bronze Age fever dream of a comic, written in 2019-2021.

Neal Adams caps off his over 50 year career with DC comics by...them letting him write a book for the first time in a decade.

Now, Adams is famous for his Bronze Age artwork, not his writing, and it's deservedly so: this is not the comic you would pick up if you were interested in award winning writing. But I have to say, it's actually something far more fun than 'good writing'.

I think the easiest way to describe the incredibly wild vibes of this title are 'Adams writes a multiverse Bronze Age time travel AU fic', where the cast technically consists of a modern set of characters (Dick is Nightwing and both Tim and Damian are Robin), but all of the characters are drawn, talking and acting like they just walked off a page in 1974 or so.

For assistance, that's: Dick in the yellow with the very 70s black vest; Tim in the blue t-shirt; Damian in the red t-shirt; and Bruce in the suit. You end up keeping track of them in this title by their haircuts.

Bruce and Damian here cannot remember anything about being Batman and Robin; Dick and Tim appear to have shown up with a fantastical story that cannot be proven (as I said, this has INCREDIBLE reality hopping AU vibes).

Some of the characters have been mindwiped. Some of the characters are robot duplicates. A whole list of characters Adams helped create show up largely because he created them (seriously Kirk and Francine Langstrom show up for a couple of pages mostly to give Dick and Tim an airlift into a difficult to reach entrance to the Cave). Nobody sounds particularly in character at any point, but that's not really a problem in this comic, because what it really is is a giant jolt of Bronze Age style writing nostalgia direct to the brainstem.

They don't make comics like this anymore and reading one written in the 2020s like this reinforces why.

Deadman's brother Aaron and sister Zeea show up; his brother is busy pretending to be an alternate Australian version of Batman called Marvin O'Hearn, and his sister is a psychic running around in the most 70s outfit imaginable controlling things and mindwiping Bruce on Ra's orders.

(And yes, if you too just asked 'Boston Brand has siblings???' the answer is 'kinda sorta but definitely not these two', however given Adams was writing Boston in 1968 at one point he's got as much right as anyone else to claim there are additional siblings)

There's a group who PRETEND to be the Court of Owls but secretly are a group of industrialists called The Money who want to control the world via paying for legislators, judges and industry (and yes I realise that sounds exactly like the Court's thing, but Adams was almost 80 when he wrote this, he can have an expy Court if he wants one).

Bruce pretends to be Matches for a good chunk of the back end of this comic and it actually acknowledges that Matches Malone was a real gangster before he died and Bruce stole his identity (something other writers and the fandom often forget), because Adams wants one more spin with the character he designed.

There's also a moment in the sixth issue where one of Ra's pet scientists tries to sell a panel of Gotham execs on a perpetual motion machine based on electrolysis as his replacement for the current Gotham power generators and at this point I lost it giggling at the portrayal of Ra's as a cheap charlatan.

(There is also a sneaky joke that only works if you know what British salad cream is; there's this sequence of the kids talking about Alfred making sandwiches with 'crappy salad dressing' instead of mayonnaise, only this tray has been made with mayo...and it's a hint that Alfred has been replaced by a robot. I laughed; I suspect it might be non-obvious to American audiences)

This is not a comic to read if you are interested in 'main continuity' or 'coherence' or even 'good writing'. However if you want some wild antics that feel like someone's 3am fanfic AU written in pure Bronze Age vibes and to see the last work of one of Ra's Al Ghul's creators? Give it a chance. You'll never be able to predict what's on the next page.

[fleeglefazbeagle]

Pumpkin Rabbit/Lorenzo Waterman headcanons/AU info

(TW for references to ableism, mentions of bullying, workplace accidents and a brief mention of hospitals.)

Bio:

•Goes by he/they pronouns.

•He's non-binary, zombieic and transmasc.

°They're also biromantic and asexual.

•He's about 9ft tall.

•They have autism, anxiety, PTSD, a speech impediment/disorder, an agere/petre/caregiver flip(caregiver leaning).

°He also has a few physical disabilities(slightly bad eyesight and needs various mobility aids a lot of the time).

•Born on December 12th 1925.

General:

•Lorenzo met Rachel back in 1939 while at a store with his parents.

•Speaking of Lorenzo's parents, they loved him very much and were also very supportive of them during his transition.

•Has really bad posture(mostly hunched over due to their condition).

•He, alongside Rachel, used to work at a butcher's back in the day.

•He was born with some facial deformities as well as having anisocoria(pupils being two different sizes), him being crosseyed and having some physical deformities that make them not be able to walk properly and would require some assistance with certain tasks.

•Lorenzo was almost constantly bullied by folks and was even mistakened for a demon at one point much to him and their parents' dismay all because of his deformities and disabilities.

•The reason why Lorenzo's face looks all burnt is due to a workplace accident where something blew up, causing his facial burns, ruined chest and exposed endo arms and legs.

°The whole debacle left him both physically and mentally scarred to the point they were crying a lot for the first few days in the hospital.

•Lorenzo very rarely gets angry but instead, he mostly would just be sad, scared or disappointed.

°They avoid speaking with a sharp tone or raised voice since he's worried about frightening people and will feel very guilty if he were to do so.

•Really gentle, sweet, sensitive, empathetic and affectionate.

°That doesn't mean he can't fight back though.

•There's this teddy bear Lorenzo had ever since he was born which he still has to this day and holds sentimental value towards.

•They have bunch of bows, ties and aprons of various colors and designs.

•He has a somewhat feminine side.

°Lorenzo was initially afraid to show that side post transition at first but after some gentle encouragement, he was more comfortable as having a feminine side doesn't make them any less of a man.

•Lorenzo also has a childish side.

°He basically likes to play with toys(mainly plushies and hand puppets), draw pictures(even if they aren't good at it), watching kids' shows and likes to be read bedtime stories on occasion.

•He still sleeps with a nightlight as they're rather afraid of the dark(poor bugger).

•When Marvin told Lorenzo that he saw them and Rachel as parental figures, he was surprised and flattered but gladly accepted it as they understood Marvin's situation(Marvin had rather neglectful parents).

•Lorenzo doesn't like the idea of them singing but prefers to just play instruments (either an acoustic guitar or a piano).

•He's rather protective of both loved ones and various things.

•Lorenzo was given the mask by Rachel a while after the accident.

•He has pyrophobia due to said accident.

•They don't like loud noises.

•The various nicknames Lorenzo is often given are "pumpkin", "sweetheart" and "bubba".

[goofygoobercreature]

Do u have any hcs for marvin in general? :3€

WARNING! EXCESSIVE YAPPING AHEAD!!!!!!

Well, you've been warned buster!

Okay, where to start?

Oh yes. I know exactly where to start.

Well, if memory serves me correctly, Marvin is a frequent multiverse traveller as per to the lore regarding the comic where he meets the Martian Manhunter. If you are unfamiliar with that crossover, I reccomend that you read it if you are an avid Marvin fan as I am. It is a peak reading experience if you are a big fan of Marv and/or the Martian Manhunter. Anyways, back on subject here, but as a multiverse traveller, he has seen almost basically everything there is to offer given that he is speculated to be immmortal. However, since he has seen everything, it doesn't mean he can PREDICT everything.

The reason why he comes off as a brat is because he normally never has to try in regards to getting anything he wants simply because he can go to any dimension he wants and because of how technologically advanced he is. With everything and anything readily available to him, he can't grasp as to why other creatures can't do the same things he can. Specifically Earth people. He finds it rude as to how the Earth is progressing without a single soul regarding his existence on Mars. Well, the way I see it in Marvin's perspective is if you imagine having someone you really want to talk to and they seem far too busy to acknowledge your existence and any effort made to talk to them is just not coming through. Annoying right? I feel like that is the way Marvin feels with every attempt to talk to the people on the Earth. With that frustration only fueling his anger, it would leave Marvin to do the drastic move of destroying the Earth entirely.

As per the Martian Manhunter comic, he is only focused on destroying the Manhunter's Earth than listening to him. Another key point I'd love to address is that Marvin is definitely mischaracterized in the later Looney Toons adaptations as just a villainous character. How I can prove this is by how he finds the Earth life facinating in the episode 'Mad as a Mars Hare' by how he is documenting the life with a telescope. In his first appearance, he never really had an explained motive as to why he was going to blow up the Earth. I highly doubt that he was going to blow up the Earth because it was obstructing his view of Venus/Mercury. With that being said, it only makes me wonder as to why they went on with this mischaracterization of him with all of the evidence I have gathered here to support this headcanon.

I also think that he prefers the dimension that we see him in rather than any other dimension. Why I believe this is because he prefers to be alone most of the time, but not all of the time if that makes sense. The reason we see K-9 every so often is because Marvin can choose to have his company or not either by vaporizing him and obviously having the option to clone him. And I am a firm believer that every time we see K-9 is a different clone of him. To prove this is because he acts differently in each adaptation sometimes as a soldier or sometimes more dog-like which can be due to how Marvin chooses his companionship. Again proving my point as to how Marvin has everything and anything readily available to him.

Another factor to add to my headcanons is that Marvin genuinely yearns for someone that has been and seen everything that he has that isn't just a clone of himself. Or at least finding someone he can share the things he's seen and done with. It is obvious in some cases that Marvin loves doing what he does, but wants to share his experiences with someone other than K-9 or himself. I am also a firm believer that he conquers other planets just to have the flex that he has taken over so many more planets than the Earth ever could. Marvin definitely wants people to know that he is a more superior being without coming off as rude/overbearing yet he does not want to be undermined for being deemed short or not a threat. Despite that, Marvin would be feared in our dimension since we have seen what he is capable of building and how he can follow through with his threats of blowing up the Earth without Daffy or Bugs stopping him with some cartoony antics.

Marvin definitely has tried Earth cuisine before across the planet at least once. Deeming America's potato salad as his favorite and is one of the reasons as to why he is hesitant on obliterating the Earth. I do believe that he wants to learn more about Earth culture but is worried that he will not be easily accepted amongst them and be overwhelmed by the fact that he cannot take on the entire Earth by himself. This theory could also explain as to why he just observes the Earth with only his telescope.

I also believe that Marvin has a 2x hotter body temperature than humans, explaining why his military status is X-2. I also believe that he had made up the martian army of just clones himself and instant martians which just seem to be Jovians, (Jupiter inhabitants), condensed into round marbles that can be activated with water/any hydrogen based liquid.

I also speculate that the Duck Dodgers show isn't canon in terms of other martian life. Marvin's title remains in the show as normal. He had made up Tyr'annee as someone he prefers in terms of romanticism. General Z-9 is meant to symbolize Marvin and how he wants to be percieved but also shows what he doesn't want to become. The Duck Dodgers show is also based on Marvin's words in regards for how space is actually like. He also let Daffy and Porky have creative freedom in terms of how their characterizations are like in the show just as long as they had shown to be a very formidable enemy against the martian army.

Aaannnnnndddddddddddd that should be it for now. Those are all the headcanons I have regarding the pookie! I'd like to emphasize that he would be a very caring character to be around despite how dangerous he is. He just has a lot of problems trying to show that caring side of him. And the mischaracterization of him within pop culture and Warner Bros. is so insane tbh. But that is just the way I percieved him as a character and I would so give him and K-9 cuddles and affection as they both so deserve it.

[vodika-vibes]

Hello, Vod'ika. I couldn't resist and came here with another request. Most of the time music usually gives me a lot of ideas. I was listening to “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye when a prompt came to my mind: “Do you know what can help me get better? Sexual healing.” I was tempted to ask this with Hunter, but I thought it would be fun for a Fives x shy F! reader (with an established relationship) where he comes back to her exhausted after a battle and she takes care of him, you know? Prepare a bath, etc. It's up to you if it's going to be NSFW or just a make-out session. Xx

Love Me Like Only You Can

Summary: Fives has been gone, deployed, for months now. But he's coming home tonight and you want to surprise him.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 1395

Warnings: Spicy, but not smutty. Reader spends part of the story in her underwear.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I hope I got the general vibe you wanted with this request. Fives wasn't being agreeable for me, but it turns out that Crosshair was junking up the writing pipeline, so I had to flush him out first, lol. I also made a divider for this cause I needed something to do, I guess.

You have been dating Fives for close to a year now, and while it’s true that he spends less time on Coruscant than a lot of people would be able to tolerate, Fives goes out of his way to make sure that you know that you’re always on his mind.

It’s surprising, really. Fives stands out, even among his own brothers. Loud and boisterous and so very clever. Not to mention funny and charming. 

The fact that he chose you out of all of the women on Coruscant is still surprising to you, even a year later.

Sure, you chose him back, but you choosing him is much less surprising than him choosing you.

After all, at the time, you didn’t even know that he knew you existed.

And yet, somehow, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and you alone, Fives always manages to find you in a crowd of people. Even when you want to blend in. Even when you’re trying to blend in.

His gaze always finds you, and a bright smile crosses his face, and he’ll sweep you into a hug-

You love him. You love him more than you’ve ever loved anything in this world, or any other, and he feels the same way. He’s never hid that from you.

Which is why, since you know he’s back on Coruscant and you know he’s going to come straight to your home as soon as he’s done with work, you want to surprise him. 

And while you could make him his favorite dinner, and dessert, you feel like that’s something that he’ll expect. Because you’ve done it before, and you know that he loved it, based on the wide grin and the soft way he looked at you, you want to do something different.

Something a little outside your comfort zone.

Which brings you to your present for Fives.

Your gaze drifts to the gauzy material of the lingerie set you bought specifically for today. It’s sheer and lacy and a shade of pale purple that Fives loves to see you in…and it’s so far outside what you would normally wear that even looking at yourself in the mirror is kind of embarrassing.

Personally you think you look a little silly, like a child playing pretend, but you have a feeling that Fives will love it.

You make a face at yourself, and then turn away from the mirror to finish pulling on the dress you bought specifically for tonight. It’s the same shade of purple as the lingerie you’re wearing, as to not ruin the surprise too quickly. Though it’s also shorter than you would ever wear in public, the hem of the skirt hitting at about mid-thigh.

And then you run your fingers through your hair, letting your curls topple around your shoulders. Then, and only then, did you leave the bedroom to head into the kitchen to make Fives’ favorite dinner.

It’s nothing fancy, nothing that your parents would expect you to make if they ever deign to visit you on Coruscant. A simple stew, something hearty and filling. And something that you learned to make specifically for Fives.

And, before you know it, your apartment door is sliding open, and the sound of familiar footsteps, heavy only due to the armor he’s still wearing, reaches your ears.

You give him time enough to remove his armor, and then you poke your head into the hall, a warm smile on your face, “Welcome home, Fives.”

He glances at you as he sets his boots on the shoe rack, and a bright smile crosses his face, washing away the exhaustion that was there, “Well, don’t you look pretty.”

You step into the hallway properly, your smile widening. You give a small spin, allowing the skirt to flair around your legs. “Do you like it?”

“Ah, cyare,” He sets his duffle bag on the floor and walks over to you, sliding his hands around your hips, “You could wear a burlap sack, and still be the most stunning woman on Coruscant.” He leans in and bumps his forehead against yours, “I didn’t know you owned something so short though.” He adds as his fingers brush against the hem of your skirt.

“I wanted to try something new.” You reply, “Is it too short, do you think?”

“Mm, I think it’s perfect.” Fives replies, “Well, unless you want to go dancing around my brothers, in which case I’d have to blindfold them.”

You laugh, “They’re not allowed to look at me now?”

“Nope. They don’t deserve to look at you,” He tilts your head back with a gentle finger on your chin, and he kisses you quickly, “I barely deserve to look at you, but I’m definitely not going to stop anytime soon.”

You laugh again, before you slide your hands up his chest and wrap your arms around his neck, “I like you looking at me. It makes me feel pretty.”

“You are so much more than pretty.” Fives murmurs, his lips hovering just over hers, “So, so much more than just pretty.” He trails his lips from the corner of your lips down to your jaw, and then up to your ear, “If I spoke every language in the galaxy, I still wouldn’t have the words needed to describe your beauty.”

Your face heats, but you’re unable to tear your gaze away from his. “The things you say to me sometimes,” You whisper.

“You doubt my words?”

“Never.” You reply softly, “Never ever.”

Fives hums softly, “I missed you, mesh’la,” He whispers, “It was…such a long time to be away from you.”

“You’re home now.”

“I am,” He murmurs, “I missed you. So much.”

“If you’re exhausted, you should rest. Dinner will hold.”

“I bet you could give me some energy, cyar’ika.” He holds your gaze with a teasing little smile, “You know what would make me feel better? A little sexual healing.”

Your face heats a little more, “Wouldn’t you rather take a nap? Not make yourself more exhausted-?”

“No, I really would rather make myself more exhausted. ” Fives replies with a teasing little smile as his hand moves to the strap of your dress. “Because it’s you. And it’s me. And nothing else matters.” Slowly, painfully slowly, he drags the straps of your dress down your shoulders, and allows the material to pool at your feet. 

Only then does he tear his gaze from your face, to look down to make sure that you’re not in danger of slipping on the thin material.

And then Fives stops.

He blinks. Once. Twice. Three times.

And then he exhales slowly as his fingers slowly, reverently, trace the lace of your lingerie. “This is new.” He breathes out.

“I wanted to try something a little outside my comfort zone.” You explain, your voice hushed so as to not break the atmosphere of the room. 

“For me?”

“You make me want to do things like this,” You whisper to him.

“Oh, ner cyare,” Fives breathes out, “I need your hands on me. I don’t care how.” He lightly rubs the thin material of the lingerie between his fingers, “but I really want you to keep this on for a bit longer.”

You smile shyly, “How about a massage?”

Fives lifts you, just enough that he’s able to kick the material of your dress out from under your feet, and then he walks you backwards into the living room. 

He pauses only long enough to strip his shirt off, and then he flops on the couch, “Come here, cyare.” Fives pulls you down and positions you so you’re straddling his hips, and then, once he has you properly positioned so you’re both comfortable, he pulls you down to crash your lips against his.

His hands are everywhere, caressing and squeezing and tracing, even as he coaxes your lips apart with teasing nips and soothing swipes of his tongue. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer and closer.

This is what you missed the most about Fives being gone. This closeness, this connection. The feeling that everything will be alright so long as his hands are on you and his lips are against yours.

And then Fives releases a quiet moan as you pull his hair a little too roughly, and you’re lost.

[bangpop91writing]

Do you have any general headcanons for Nanteo? I’ve seen your bedtime story fics and they’re very good.

Ohhhh I love nanteo and I definitely do!

Im so glad you love the Bedtime Stories Series. They hold a very special place in my heart.

Some of my favorite general Nanteo head canons.

•they have two kids, a boy and a girl. Their son is named after Tim and Marvin to honor the uncles their kids won't get to meet.

•they actually wait awhile before having kids. They aren't in a rush and Mateo wants to get his citizenship squared away first.

•they buy a fixer upper house together in the same neighborhood as Nancy's sister. They fix up the house together in their free time.

•their house is really vibrant and full of color and character. There is no sad beige minimalist allowed.

• after finally moving in together they adopt a cat from a shelter. Its a feisty Russian blue and they name her Captain Meow

•they still refer to their sex life as having coffee.

•after mateo's citizenship is finalized they take a trip to Mexico together to visit his parents. After that they try to go every other year. They also travel fo California as much as they can to visit the California chavezes.

•mateo listens to the audio book of everybody Nancy is currently reading so they can talk about them together.

•Nancy gets into comic books and graphic novels because of Mateo. She really likes The Old Guard.