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fiendishartist2 · 8 months

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she's gonna be a lot like me; but i don't wanna be at all like me- petscop

Once again, Paul finds himself in a waiting room. The room is quiet, but filled with the low murmur of anxious ambience; mothers kill time by tapping aimlessly on their phones, patients waiting to be called shuffle and tap their feet impatiently, the man at the front desk clicks the keys on his keyboard, on and off, as he fills out paperwork. In the corner of the room, a clock on the wall ticks.

The longer Paul stared at his shoes– how readily they met the carpet, laying flat against the ground– a horrible twisting in his chest began. His heart started to beat just slightly to the left; lungs trapped underneath it as his breath grew shallow.

Paul felt the anxious energy, eyes glued to the carpet. It is coarse and green with pinpricks of blue sewn in. He scrapes his old sneakers against the carpet, adding to the noise. It’s a soothing action. Spurred on by his own boredom, Paul tapped his feet and the thick clomp it makes is disconcerting, like the sound of running barefoot on grass.

Paul should not be this tall. He should not fill the chair like he does. The quiet ambience should be louder, obtrusive; office workers click away at their keyboards, children chase each other through the halls, squealing all the way. A paper shredder bursts to life across the room, teachers walk through brusquely without a word of acknowledgement, adults chat and laugh above him. He stared at his feet, hands pulled close in his lap, clutching a thin children’s book. Paul’s feet dangle past the lip of a faded red chair, lifeless. The sight of pink sneakers, scuffed and stained green and brown, makes tears spring to his eyes. They’re ruined. She ruined them, made them disgusting and ugly and it’s all her fault.

The door separating the waiting room from the rest of his therapist’s office creaked open. A nicely dressed woman with a wide smile stood in the doorway.

��Paul? Paul Leskowitz?”

“Um- that’s me.” Paul answered. He rose from his chair slowly as the unfamiliar woman beckoned him. Fog swirled in his head and obscured his memory.

She nodded, smiling again, “Come on through then.”

Paul followed her through the hall. It’s somewhat uncomfortable; not quite small enough to squeeze, but claustrophobic all the same. He would hate to pass by another person in there.

They came upon a door, painted a warm yellow. It stood out against the sterile white walls of the rest of the place. Although, he supposed it matched the eclectic blue and green carpet of the waiting room. On the door was a plaque, engraved with the name “Dr. Patricia Miller” and below it, “Psychotherapist”. The name didn't spark any recognition, but her title did. Paul is often taken out of class to see a counsellor, so he must be having another session.

Dr. Miller held open the door for Paul, motioning him to sit. There’s a long, grey couch on one end of the room, facing an armchair. A neatly folded blanket hangs over the back, covering half of the couch. Paul sat on the other end, but worries one of the blanket’s tassels between his fingers. It’s soft and fuzzy; Paul was grateful for something to look at while Dr. Miller got herself sorted.

“So, how are you today–” she checked a paper in her clipboard, “Paul?”

He was struck by the silence in the room and almost felt too awkward to speak.

“Uh-” Paul started, voice reedy with disuse. He cleared his throat before trying again, “Sorry, where am I?”

Embarrassment flooded him when Dr. Miller’s eyebrows rose. Paul knew he should remember the significance of this place, but right now he was drawing a blank. Dr. Miller’s laugh-lined face and curly auburn hair didn’t strike him as significant and neither did the softly lit office he found himself in.

Still, she recovered from her surprise quickly. Her features softened to a look of gentle concern.

“I’m your new therapist. You booked this appointment last Friday, I believe. Here, I can give you…” She drew out the last syllable, rummaging around in the purse sat by her feet. Dr. Miller procured a small card and handed it across the coffee table separating them.

Paul breathed a sigh of relief when he read the information on Dr. Miller’s business card. Recognition sparked at the long address of the “ClearView Wellness Center”; Belle texted him multiple times over the past week with the location, even calling him this morning to make sure he got there without any issue. Ironically, the issues started after he had already arrived.

Dr. Miller uncapped a pen, holding it poised to write on her clipboard, “Don’t worry about this, by the way,” she said, kindly, “I only take notes to better understand you and your situation. Anything you say will not leave this room and I will be the only person reading these.”

He nodded wordlessly.

She started simple, “Do you often forget your surroundings?”

He met her expectant gaze, before shifting back to the blanket. Paul cleared his throat again.

“Um- sometimes, yeah. I guess.” He bit the inside of his cheek, “It uh- it used to happen a lot, I think, but it kinda stopped after I left highschool.”

She nodded, taking a moment to scribble down a few notes. As she wrote, she asked her next question.

“Does it still happen to you or do you believe it’s fully gone away?”

He shifted uncomfortably. The blanket is pilling.

“It- I think it’s back, kinda?”

She looked up at him, “What do you mean by that?”

Paul couldn’t answer. His jaw was locked around the words he couldn’t articulate. Nothing was trapped in his throat, he just– didn’t know what to say to that. Dr. Miller let the question hang between them for a minute before changing her trajectory.

“Is there a reason for this behaviour?” She posed clinically, “Any sort of strenuous situation or pent up stress?”

Anna was waiting for him at her house. He left abruptly last Thursday, after his latest session with the game left him drained and afraid of… whatever unseen threat lurked behind his screen, surely. Paul chastised himself for forgetting what exactly it was, but Belle understood. She hadn’t let him answer Anna’s incessant calls and encouraged him to talk to someone– even a one-off appointment like this– to mitigate his stress. Still, his hands itched for the controller and he’s sure he’ll be back in that horrible house sooner or later. The family knows how to break someone down like that.

“There’s a um…” He said, voice crackling. He knew he couldn't mention the game, but he wanted to talk to her, no matter how discomforting this place is.

“My–” How does he explain to her who Anna is to him? She’s not his mother, not anymore. He decided to start somewhere else, “I cut ties with my blood relatives a long time ago, but I uh- I- I’m talking to them again. Um, I’m actually partially living with my biological mother.”

Before Dr. Miller can cut in, Paul elaborated, “I don’t know if I really want to be there? I don’t– I don’t want to be there.”

“Why is that?”

Paul paused, deliberating. He knows why– the family is awful and he doesn’t like them. But, articulating that is difficult. His head hurts.

“I think um…” He shifted, slouching over to pick at his hands, “I think it’s making me paranoid.”

Scratching pen on paper fills the room. When it stopped, Dr. Miller gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s easy to feel intimidated when in an unfamiliar situation, especially when your relationship with whoever you’re living with is strained. What do you feel makes you paranoid at your biological mother’s house?”

Paul swallowed thickly.

“I don’t… uh- I don’t really know? I just feel like- like something is waiting for me there.”

“Waiting for you? Is it something physically waiting or a kind of negative interaction?”

“Both? I don’t like talking to Anna, but I’m not um- afraid of her, or anything. Being there just makes me get all… jumpy and- and irritable, I guess. Sometimes…” He trailed off. Part of him didn’t want to put words to this particular fear– it was irrational and fleeting. Saying it out loud gave it merit.

“It’s alright, you can continue.” She encouraged.

Paul drew in a deep breath, “Sometimes I… when I have trouble sleeping, it feels like something bad is going to happen. It’s not as bad in the daytime, but I just- I don’t like sleeping at her house.”

Dr. Miller nodded, “Do you feel like this all the time or only at Anna’s house?”

“Recently, it’s just been at Anna’s. I remember being a really light sleeper as a kid, but uh- that’s really it. I stopped being afraid of the dark a while ago.” Paul tried at a joke, laughing weakly to fill the empty air. Dr. Miller spared him a pity smile.

“Right. You said you don’t like talking to Anna, why is that? Is it related to why you don’t speak with her anymore?”

Cold sweat beaded on Paul’s forehead, in stark contrast to the red-hot spark of anxiety under his skin.

“I- I don’t know.”

“… You don’t know?”

Paul’s hands tightened in his lap.

“I don’t- I mean, she’s overbearing and intrusive and I get- I get kinda um…” He drew his shoulders, “I feel weird when she’s around. She– and the whole family, I guess– they’re uh- they’re dismissive. And she’s really emotional. I feel like I need to make her feel better when I’m there, but I don’t really know her?”

Dr. Miller looked up at him quizzically.

“We left when I was a kid. I don’t really remember why anymore, just that um- my- my mom– sorry, my adoptive mom, Lina– she took me away to live with her and my sister, Belle. There was family drama, or something like that…” He refuses to think about the game and it’s fucked up story– it’s not real, just the backwards revenge plot of a distant relative in his backwards family. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Do you know what that drama was?” She asked simply.

Paul didn’t answer.

“Was there perhaps an incident where your mother felt the need to remove you from Anna’s care? Any sort of mistreatment or neglect that–”

Paul drifted out of the conversation and into another. The consistent rumbling of Lina’s new car on gravel road drowned out the dulcet tones of Dr. Miller. They hit a bump and jumped a few inches above their seats, squealing all the way down. Glitzy pop music streamed through the speakers and Lina turned it up loud enough to hear over Belle’s singing. Paul joined in, quieter than Belle, always quieter– but singing along nonetheless. He dug his fingers into the thin plastic bag in his lap, watching it warp around his tiny fingers. It’s filled to bursting with his belongings, but gives easily. When he pulled away, he noticed the angry red cuts trailing up from her fingertips to the backs of her hands. They hit another bump, and this time she screamed.

“-aul, are you okay? Paul? Can you hear me?”

A woman with aged olive skin and copper hair is leaning towards him across a low table. She must be important, because she is dressed in a crisp blouse and slacks. The woman’s face is contorted into a thin-lipped smile. Paul felt sick.

“I’m sorry- I- I need to make- I need to call someone. Ex-excuse me.”

#ouuuggghghghhhh im back on my bullshit. hi #im here to post about paul leskowitz and how ill he makes me!!!#the nature of paul's memory loss is played with a bit here so its probably not v accurate but im fine with that #my fic #petscop #paul leskowitz #petscop paul #petscop belle #petscop anna #anna leskowitz #lina leskowitz #its like hm. today i will think about how paul doesnt remember half of his life but is still haunted by the events that took place there #i have v specific ideas about paul and his family and his life after leaving anna but do take note:#he is distinctly changed by smth he cannot remember the shape of. and playing petscop is bringing it back #okay bye its 2am and im really tired <3

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oetscop · 3 months

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"You can say, or think whatever the hell you want, Paul." Anna's tone slips into the same, pathetic, condescending tone she always has when they bring up his childhood. It always sounds like shes trying to mimic herself when she once felt threatening, but its only a shameful mockery. A small bird fluffing its feathers to look bigger to startle a shrike.

She's treating him like a carnivorous animal again.

"You're still that same, scared little girl you were--"

Something white hot and angry blooms in his chest, and Paul starts to suspect she may be correct in her comparison.

Before he can even process what his own body is doing, he takes a sudden step forward, straightening out his perpetual slouch and giving him an extra few inches. He doesn't need them, he was taller than her by the time he was nine years old, but it appears the feather puffing is hereditary. The thought alone makes it hard to quell his anger.

Anna quickly lurches back on instinct, back hitting the fridge behind her, sending the pans on top and the jars inside clattering against each other. Paul sees a terror in her eyes that he had only seen when Marvin was still around. A terror he saw on his own face, reflected back warped and bloody in a flower vase.

"Don't." The word falls out of his mouth and clatters onto the kitchen tiles, quiet and as sharp as a knife.

"You're worse than your cousin." She spits through her teeth, and Paul doesn't need to ask which one. It's Daniel. Weeks on the road at a time, ignoring phone calls and begging Belle not to tell anyone where he's going, as if he knows where he's going at any given time. Staying awake for days at a time, only coming out of hiding when something related to that godforsaken game comes up.

His eyes drift away from Anna briefly to the closed bathroom door down the hall. He's so angry that he can't move. He briefly wonders if she's simply trying to hit him where it hurts, or if she truly wishes he ended up the same way Daniel did.

"And just like your father."

The shrike opens its talons.

"Don't you ever fucking say that to me again." He hates how flat he sounds when he's angry, how insincere it comes off. He's never been able to display emotions well. "And don't call him my father."

the shrike folds in its wings, diving, diving, cutting through the air like a blade.

Anna's expression warps as her hands curl into fists at her sides. From anger to disgust, and muddled with confusion. She seems taken aback, likely because Paul hasn't ever really stood up for himself. Everything about him surprised her, she never bothered to pay enough attention anyway.

Talons close down around the bluejay, pinning its wings to its sides.

"He's not, and it's the same reason I'll never call you my mother."

A branch pierces through the bluejay's chest, straight through the heart.

"Get. The fuck. Out of my house." Anna says. she's quiet, almost inaudible, yet the intent behind her words is louder than any sound she could be capable of making.

Paul wants another snarky remark. In his head, he smiles and hurls a gladly! her way, or a wouldn't be the first time you've said that. but he doesn't. Nothing in his life could ever pan out like that, far too awkward for an exit that would really mean anything at all.

His eyes finally snap back to hers for only a moment, and he turns to leave without another word. Anna's fist hits the fridge, sending everything inside rattling again.

The most Paul can do in response is to slam the front door behind him, and he feels like a stupid child as he slams his car door as well.

#tongue #petscop #paul leskowitz #anna leskowitz #fanfic #idk wat dis is !!!! ^_^#this takes place right after jill and anna (mostly jill) wanted control over the youtube channel #which i also wrote a thing abt i should. post my writing more 🤪#my writing

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erimy-gumy · 1 year

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It was an important Petscop date, so here are some old unfinished drawings

#petscop #petscop fanart #petscop care #care mark #paul leskowitz #marvin mark #lina leskowitz #anna leskowitz #petscop belle #petscop marvin #petscop lina #petscop anna

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diggorywood · 2 years

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Petscop but it’s just the swears

#petscop #paul petscop #marvin #tony dominico #belle #anna leskowitz #lina leskowitz #michael hammond #tiara

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lea-theleef · 8 months

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Anna doodle that became a little bit more than just that 😭 I luv her.

#petscop #digital art #anna leskowitz #anna mark #petscop fanart

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trihallow746 · 20 days

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#petscop #paul petscop #paul leskowitz #anna petscop #care petscop #carrie mark

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demo-bathtomb · 2 years

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SHE TRIPPED AND FELL AND IS LOST

#petscop #petscop 2022 #petscop edit #photo edit #petscop marvin #petscop care #petscop paul #paul leskowitz #care mark #carrie mark #anna mark #marvin mark #tiara leskowitz #petscop tiara #petscop belle #belle leskowitz

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cybercritterinyourcomputer · 8 months

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since im starting to think about petscop again, but cant remember stuff well even after just a little under a year, heres a list of the family members/characters - since i have a poor memory, if anyone finds this, please feel free to correct me

mark family?

anna mark - cares mother, sister of lina

marvin mark - cares father

carrie "care" mark - child, most likely younger paul

hammond family?

jill ? - cares aunt, probably daniel and mikes mother

thomas hammond - cares uncle, probably daniels and mikes father

daniel "rainer" hammond - cares cousin, speculated to be rainer

michael "mike" hammond - more than likely daniel/rainers little brother

leskowitz family?

lina leskowitz - annas sister

paul leskowitz - adoptive son of lina? most likely used to be care

tiara - adoptive daughter of lina? used to be belle

#petscop #family tree

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ronniesbizzareblog · 2 years

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Anna Leskowitz doodle

#petscop #fanart #art #my art

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mysticetus · 2 years

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GUYS.

Breaking Bad PETSCOP AU.

Walter White is MARVIN MARK (bald, mustache)! Jesse Pinkman is RAINER HAMMOND! Skylar White is ANNA MARK (blue)! Walter Jr. is PAUL LESKOWITZ! Holly White is CARRIE MARK! Hank and Marie Schrader are THE FAMILY!

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fiendishartist2 · 8 months

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everybody knows that, nobody knows that, everybody's in on everybody's business- petscop

Paul adjusted his position on the floor, leaning back in his chair. It creaked under his weight, a high whine that showed its age. His back was aching, but he resolved himself to just put up with it. Anna had set up the room before he got here and Paul really didn't want to talk to her any more than he had to; so now he's stuck, sitting on a wooden chair in the dark, in the guest bedroom of his childhood home. He relaxed as much as he could and sighed, tired of hours of mindless exploration. Looking at his spread of half-written questions and hastily scribbled drawings, Paul couldn't help but feel like he was running in place, getting nowhere while tiring himself out.

"Paul!"

Paul jumped from his seat, heart racing at the unexpected shout. Anna was yelling for him– Anna never raised her voice if she could help it. The sound made Paul want to flee.

Paul hurried to the living room, heart in his throat despite himself. His constricted lungs wheezed with shallow breaths as he padded around in search of Anna. He spotted her dirty blond hair, lifeless against the black-painted walls, before he realised it was her. She stood over the kitchen table, setting down three sets of plates and cutlery. She smiled as Paul approached her, eyes crinkling.

Through the haze, the tinny sound of Petscop's demo theme reached Paul's ears.

He rubbed a hand down his face, skewing his glasses,"Jeez, calm down..."

"Would you answer the door, dear?" Anna asked sweetly, drawing out the last word. Paul grimaced openly at her misplaced care, but obliged. There was no reason to start a fight with Anna and ruin the fragile relationship she thought they had. He trudged towards the front door, swinging it open carelessly.

Out of the darkness, a pair of arms wrapped around Paul tightly, holding him to the chest of the intruder. Paul let out a scream, his earlier fear realised. He struggled against their grip, pushing against his unknown attacker. He felt rabid, consumed by the instinct to kick and scratch at any opening he saw– to scream and cry and beg to be let go. Eventually, he shoved them off, stumbling back into the house.

The figure guffawed in the doorway. They stepped into the hallway light, revealing a tall, broad woman with limp brown curls resting on the shoulders of her worn wool coat. Her big smile and laugh lined face were mocking in their mirth. The woman removed her blue mittens and wiped her eyes.

"Oh-oh you should have seen your face!" She shouted, "Fifteen years and you're still just as funny, Carrie."

Paul startled as Anna touched his shoulder lightly. She sidled next to him and pulled the other woman into a hug.

Anna squeezed his shoulder when they separated, "You remember your auntie Jill, right?"

Paul wrung his hands.

"Um-"

Jill loudly cut him off, "Look at how you've grown! Last I saw you, you were barely 3 feet tall!" She moved forward and attempted to ruffle Paul's unruly hair, easily brushing off how he jerked away from her. Jill elbowed Anna.

"Our little girl's back home, eh Annie?" Anna laughed lightly. Across from them, Paul's stomach lurched, a wave of nausea hitting him suddenly.

"Oh- uh- I'm not, um, who you think I am." Paul's monotone voice cut through their banter. Stiffly, he raised his hand in a meek wave, "I'm Paul."

Paul sighed and joined Anna and Jill in the kitchen. He sat at the table, choosing to sit alone across from them. Anna had obviously planned for this dinner; in the middle of the table sat a stained cast-iron pot, potatoes and chicken floating around in a deep orange sauce, chunks of onion and garlic stuck to the bottom. A bottle of name-brand sparkling water stood next to it, an assortment of mismatched mugs huddled around.

"Huh. Well Ca-" she stopped, letting out a short cough, "Paul, it's nice to see you again."

The two women walked into the kitchen, leaving Paul alone at the door. He ran a hand through his hair, catching on a knot at the back– of course the family had to come visit and of course none of them knew he was actually a man. It wasn't like he ever actually wanted to talk to any of them. Although he barely remembers an "aunt Jill", he understands who she must have been to him when he was still Anna's kid– irritating and abrasive.

Paul’s gaze drifted to the empty air next to him. Something was missing. In four general areas, the table sported white burn rings where too-hot bowls and plates had sat carelessly. Two on one side and two on the other. But for whatever reason, one of the chairs was missing. He stared into the void it left behind, flooded by vague memories of full tables. Someone sat there, he's sure of it, but now the space was only occupied by their absence. It made his heart race just looking at it.

"Paul?"

Broken from his stupor, Paul blinked wildly to reorient himself in the present. Anna frowned and got up to stand Paul's side, rubbing his back with her bony hand. The skin under her hand crawled.

"Are you okay?" Anna cooed. He nudged her arm away and forced a smile on his lips, refusing the urge to scratch at his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm fine."

Paul had the feeling they knew he was lying.

Anna served them all without a word.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Jill spoke up, "How's- how've you been? Y'know since- since you went to live with uh... y'know." Her loud voice was awkward and cautious, speaking around the toothy grimace that had fixed itself to her face. Anna frowned at her food.

Paul wasn't really sure what she wanted him to say– how could he condense fifteen years into one sentence?

Jill nodded, "That's right, Belle's college aged now, isn't she?" She paused for a second, sneaking a look at Anna, "How about you? Are ya' in school for anything?" Anna's excited grin emerged from her staring contest with her plate and she looked hopefully at Paul.

"Um. Fine, I guess." He winced, that sounded even worse than Jill's attempt. He wracked his jumbled brain for something else to say. Pride bloomed in his chest as he thought about his family.

"B-Belle's in school for- uh- to be a chemist." Paul took a long sip of sparkling water in lieu of replying further. It tasted bitter.

Under her joyful gaze, he squirmed; of course she was only interested in hearing about Paul– a fact that both made him deeply uncomfortable and indignant on Belle's behalf. He stabbed a potato, swirling it around on his plate. Eventually, he offered up a monotone, "No."

Anna leaned forward onto the table, her smile dripping with pity, "Aw, honey, why not? Don't you want to get a good job? You were so smart when you were little. Have a little faith in yourself!" Paul curled in on himself.

"I don't do well in school. Mom thinks I should take my time instead of feeling pressured into going." Paul replied shortly.

Anna's face scrunched like she had been punched square in the nose. Red hot embarrassment flooded her face in a vicious flush.

Jill suddenly clapped her hands and everyone at the table flinched, "Well! That was great." She picked up their empty dishes and stood abruptly from the table, "Thank you, Anna, for the meal. It was delicious." She placed the dishes into the sink and they clashed with the sharp sound of ceramic. Paul jumped violently at the noise.

"It was nice to see you again, Paul." With that, Jill hoisted Anna out of her seat and pulled her into the living room, patting her back and drying her tears with her sweater.

Paul watched Anna weep into Jill's shoulder and couldn’t make himself feel sympathetic. Of course, he felt weird that she was upset, the sight of her crying face sparking that familiar twisting fear in his gut. But those crocodile tears always reared their ugly head when she wanted to push and pull his emotions. Anna said she would never want to hurt him, ignoring just how well she had guilted Paul into handing over the channel and subsequently moving back in with her.

He placed his full plate gently on top of the others, shuddering at the way the delicate plates scraped with the threat of shattering. He crept back upstairs.

It had barely been one whole day and Paul could already feel himself getting sick of this family.

#hey....... whats up guys #smile #im back on my bullshit for like the 4th time. you should all used to this by now #i love thinking about paul being trapped in his childhood home with the family :) its so fun and sillay. im sure hes having a great time #wake up petscop fans i rewrote another petscop fic!!!! this should give you reprieve for like 10 minutes max #my hands hurt and im hungry but its not dinner time for another hour so im gonna go occupy myself #my fic #petscop #paul petscop #paul leskowitz #anna leskowitz #petscop anna #jill mark #petscop jill #sorry for inconsistent tags i forgot which way ive been tagging these things #petscop fic #once again im naming a petscop fic after the most petscop song ever: well better than the alternative by will wood

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