This playlist isn’t purely about Marcus, it’s actually about his and my version of Johnny’s mum’s relationship. So warning, there is a mix between happy love songs and pretty sad ones.
The Songs I Most Closely Associate With These Two Are:
Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips
Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi
Kids Again by Artist vs. Poet
Hold Me While You Wait by Lewis Capaldi
Slight Relationship Explanation For Those Confused:
Jia and Marcus met when he was 23 and she was 21 and started dating soon afterwards. Marcus was permanently disowned from his family and moved in with Jia (who had recently lost her only living relative and was now living alone) within a year as he had nowhere else to go. They were pretty happy together despite everything and got married a few years later.
However, Jia’s LGMD (limb-girdle muscular dystrophy) kept getting worse, eventually leading to her death when Johnny was just 6 years old and Jia herself was 34. Marcus never fully recovered emotionally or mentally from her death and it worsened his abandonment issues (which went on to cause issues with him and his son down the line).
Basically, they were both there for each other during really rough times in their lives and helped the other person grow stronger. They had a loving relationship that was cut off far too early with Jia’s untimely death.
to be completely honest, I don't want macdennis in this finale at all. i want den's plot to stay his own. i want the gang to understand just how much they rely on dennis, and how the pressure is finally wearing him down. dennis' inability to escape these high expectations from all of them. of the responsibility that he hates so much. this has been a part of his plotlines for years, and now he can't even take a day trip to the beach without the gang calling him for dumb shit. he's expected to be there to help the gang whenever they need him, but will they be there to help him?
sometimes i think about what it would be like if Victoria somehow got stuck with the biochip in her neck and my god idk who'd be suffering more her or johnny
i like to write dire verses for leland bc i just think there’s a million ways it can go which is interesting. and obv i have a few that are particularly dark and sad. but i think what’s silly about him is he ends up endearing himself to a lot of the family in different trajectories and i always imagine it like this
i loved the headcanons!! perhaps you have anymore emo Marcus headcanons?🖤💀
Of course! Punk/Alt Marcus lives absolutely rent free in my brain. Hope you enjoy! -<3 Gooseless
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Marcus started getting into punk and alt stuff by skateboarding when he was in around year 7 to year 8, mainly to piss off his parents.
He consistently dyed his hair different colors, typically red and purple.
Due to his participation in numerous, numerous protests (pretty much every single one in the city), Marcus was arrested a fair bit in secondary school and university for disturbing the peace.
Marcus pierced his own ears when he was 12 and gave himself his first tattoo when he was 17.
His playlist is still made up of older British punk bands (and yes, that is the only thing allowed to play in the garage besides Johnny's music).
He thought about learning the drums but kept forgetting to actually commit to learning so he didn't.
Marcus still has a ton of mixtapes that his late wife gave him as gifts when they were dating.
The leather jacket Johnny wears was Marcus's old jacket that he wore under his battle vest a lot (Johnny now occasionally wears his own vest over it and Marcus is so proud).
He was in an unofficial boxing club in Uni which was wear he learned to box for the first time and quickly became one of the best boxers there.
Marcus still wears very subtle black eyeliner some days, especially after Johnny started wearing makeup and consistently has his nails painted, claiming it's to hide grease stains from customers (no one believes him, especially since he'll change it from the usual black to teal whenever Johnny's performing).
When he was wearing boots (and still does this to this day), Marcus wears yellow and purple shoe laces, with the purple being in support of Johnny and his late wife.
If you google certain protests in the 80s and 90s in London, there's a good chance you will see Marcus in those photos.
He chose to start going by Marcus in year 9 because he thought it sounded cooler than his legal name and eventually got it changed when he was older.
The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of Dina & Johnny Zest as an item. I think their personalities mesh well (especially since I don't view Dina as just a shallow & simple gold digger) and I also like the character development that'd come with her actively choosing a partner that not only isn't rich, but struggling.
She's definitely materialistic, loves luxury, loves being spoiled... but I also see her as ambitious and more than capable of making her own fortune, the faith in herself just isn't quite there and she's trying to hit an easy button. I feel like it'd be a relationship that'd push her more towards tapping into that part of herself and then I don't really view Johnny as a nothing. He's a hard worker and I think eventual success is a given, so overall I could see them ending up fairly well-off, and being each other's cheerleader along the way.
I think there's also something there about their place in their families. Johnny obviously has the shorter end of the stick but ironically enough even though I headcanon Dina as the one that gets more attention from men due partly to her more bubbly personality, which is something that gets under Nina's skin a bit, I view Nina as being more so the favorite growing up, at least with their mom, who I HC as Dina having a bit of a tense relationship with. So they both have mommy issues as far as I'm concerned
Could you do a Amy x Johnny bingo? It’s one of those plot ideas that were never used in STC, but I’m curious about your thoughts on it :0
HHHMMM... it weirds me out how tall johnny is compared to amy cause then it just looks hes way older than her, but lets assume theyre in the same age range (11-13) for this bingo
im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );
can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.
but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.
you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,
that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.
that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.
and in that moment everything seems solidified.
you're never getting away.
there's no point in it.
there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.
you're dead.
not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.
what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?
who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?
the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.