#also the texture on the trees freaking killed my hand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ukiyoexo · 3 years

Text

THE PERFECT ONE. — kjm

PAIRINGS — exo, kim junmyeon x reader

GENRES — best friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff, slight angst

SYNOPSIS — after a ruined date, your best friend decides that you deserve to be treated in the form of a perfect night that leaves your heart warm and your feelings out in the open.

WARNINGS — swearing and sweetness

MESSAGE — hi, @amyeonzing i’m emma, your exol secret santa and this is my (hopefully not too shitty) gift for you. i really enjoyed the time i spent getting to know you and i must say that i think you’re pretty freaking cool!! thanks for putting with my somewhat sporadic asks, i hope this makes up for it

also thanks to mel and lolo for setting up the @exolssecretsanta, it really was fun and definitely worth it!

WORD COUNT — 2.2k+

"i hate guys." you let out in a huff, flopping your body into your best friend's bed, "i hate guys, i hate men, i hate boys, i hate those weird humans with the dicks hanging off their body. i hate them all." you repeat again more descriptively this time, the frustration growing in your chest as you continue your somewhat dramatic announcement. your hands gripping the duvet cover as your head buries into the pillow. the only sense of calm you gain being from the smell of cologne that lingers on junmyeon's sheets.

you don't hear or see him get up, but he does with a small chuckle, pushing away from the desk he was sat in front of at the other side of the bedroom and walking over to the bed calmly. he hovers over the side of the bed your laying on before deciding to crouch down next to you, one hand gently pushing on your arm in hopes of encouraging you to unbury your face. it takes a little convincing — it always does — but you do give in eventually, letting yourself be rolled over, your arms in reponse only folding over your chest as a pout forms on your lips.

"so you were saying," junmyeon nudges you to make room for him on the bed, "men equal bad?" he sits down once you shuffle over, doing his best to hide the small smile that is prying at his lips "men equal very bad." you nod in agreement, the stern look remaining on your face as junmyeon nods. “and why is that this time?”

you shake your head at his question, not really wanting to answer. if you were being honest, you found the truth quite embarrassing, even if you shouldn’t do, you just couldn’t help it. but then again, it was junmyeon you were talking. the man you had known since you were old enough to walk, the man you spent your childhood with, experiencing the epic highs and lows of being a teenager and now an adult. it being junmyeon made you feel a bit better at least and was only reason you were willing to admit the cause of your upset.

“i got stood up.” your face twists, eyes tracing the dappled texture painted on junmyeon’s bedroom ceiling. “i was supposed to go on a date last night with this guy i met through a friend and he fucking stood me up.”

junmyeon shifts onto his side, elbow bent to prop up his head, “oh,” he hums, face morphing into a sympathetic expression, eyes saddened. his hand moves to rest on your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles, “hey,” he begins gently, “there’s no point getting upset over this guy. if he couldn’t be bothered to show up to a date with someone as amazing as you, he’s not worth any of your time or thought in the first place.”

“ugh,” this was the exact reason everyone came to junmyeon for advice and you hated it, mostly because he was always right. you were letting some stupid guy, who you hadn’t even properly met, dictate your feelings and however much you didn’t want to admit it, it was stupid.

“ok.” you nod, lettting a small smile pry at your lips. “who cares about him, right?” you sit up promptly and junmyeon mimics the action. “right!” he cheers on with you but the joy is short lived. “it does still kinda suck though.” your body seems to deflate as the words pass your lips, shoulders caving in on themselves.

it sucked a whole lot in fact. not even because you cared that much about the guy, just the feeling that someone would rather leave you hanging than text to cancel.

junmyeon remains silent for a while before shifting off the bed, making his way around to the other side before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to. “y/n,” he begins softly, “forget him, yeah?” he nods encouragingly and you mirror the action reluctantly, gaze flickering away. “i’ve got a plan and it requires you to not be grumpy.”

your head seems to perk up at his statement, a plan?

your head tilts and it’s enough indication for junmyeon to begin explaining, “go on a date with me instead, a make up for last night.” he offers sweetly, hands clutching yours, and you swear you feel your heart beat fasten. “a date?” you question and he nods again, “a date.” he smiles back, “i’ll make it as perfect as possible and by the end of it, you will have forgotten that prick even exists.”

it hadn’t taken much convincing after that for you to agree, junmyeon was just a friend after all, and what’s weird about going out with a friend?

he had instructed soon after for you to go home and get changed, planning to pick you at seven for the beginning of your date. you had done so promptly, changing into your favourite ‘casual date’ outfit - whatever that meant - before fixing your hair and putting on a light layer of makeup.

and thankfully, unlike last night, when the planned time rolled around, junmyeon showed up too, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand that had your cheeks heating. his only reasoning being that you “deserved to know what a proper date was like.”

just a friend, just a friend, just a friend.

you have to remind yourself as he begins to drive after guiding you to his car, taking a deep breath as you scan the road signs you pass, hoping for any clue of where junmyeon might be taking you. the further you journeyed however, the more lost you became, city buildings morphing into fields upon fields. the car drive turning into what felt like more of an adventure as the minutes ticked on. “if you’re going to kill me, at least give me some warning.” you let out in a chuckle and junmyeon laughs back, his hand moving from the steering wheel onto your thigh. the feeling of his skin on yours leaving goosebumps prickling on your leg, “no murder happening here.” he squeezes his hand and just as quickly, it’s back on the wheel.

it’s weird, the feeling that bubbles in your stomach, almost like butterflies. but no, that was stupid. junmyeon was your best friend of course and that was it. even if he seemed to be the one you thought about most.

few words are shared after that, a quiet melody playing through the car from one of your playlists. your head resting against the window. you don’t even notice at first when the car rolls to a stop, junmyeon getting out first and promptly making his way over to your side of the car. the small giggle that passes your lips when he pulls open your door and holds out a hand leaving a rosy shade on his cheeks. he then retrieves the small weaved basket he had tucked in the car boot - the stereotypical picnic type - before gripping your hand once again, leading you down a small path.

it’s a small wooded area, up a slight slope, away from the concrete buildings and pollution. the moonlight weaves its way between the branches and leaves, leaving specs of silver dancing on the ground. rays highlighting the small blue flowers that sit in bundles in the foliage. it’s pretty. in fact more than that, it’s almost ethereal.

the world around you seems to glow, nature left to create its own bubble of serenity. the peace of the night only disturbed by the sound of your footsteps.

it’s a calm, however, that seems starkly contrastinf to the hammering in your chest every time you feel junmyeon’s thumb rub against the back of your palm. sure, you and junmyeon had held hands before, you had even cuddled and shared the same bed, you were best friends after all. it’s just that this felt different. felt special. it felt like something more.

you walk for only a couple minutes before reaching a clearing. it’s on the edge of the hill, surrounded by trees and seemingly secluded from the rest of the world. the only evidence of human life being the glowing lights of the city from what seems be miles away.

he lays out a blanket and places down the basket, opening it to pull out a collection of some of your favourite foods. god, he knew you well.

“how do you know about this place?” your head tilts, eyes scanning junmyeon’s features as you settle onto the picnic blanket. every soft curve of his face almost iridescent in the white glow of the moon and stars. “i just like to come here sometimes.” he responds rather simply, gaze fixated ahead. “when i want to clear my head, or need to be alone.” he continues, voice edging further into a whisper with each word.

“it’s nice.” you hum back, a small smile perched on your lips. “perfect in fact.” junmyeon gains a smile at that too. “i’m glad.”

you remain silent for a while after that, letting yourself enjoy the food and the comfort each other’s presences provided. you weren’t lying when you said it was perfect, it really was.

no one had ever done something like this for you, and you doubted anyone ever would again. it almost seemed too perfect, and somehow almost painful at the same time. to know that this was just a fake date per say and not the real thing left you with a bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t seem to get rid. but you couldn’t say anything, after all, junmyeon was just a friend.

“you didn’t have to do this, you know?” you whisper after another moment, “but i wanted to.” he responds quickly but gently back. a response that leaves a warm, fuzzy feeling growing in your chest that you can’t stop no matter how hard you try. “i know, but it’s just sad as well i guess.”

your words catch the man off guard, his head twisting in your direction, eyebrows quirked up slightly. “well it’s not real, is it?”

a silence settles once again. a quiet that’s more stiff than serene. leaving your hands sweaty and throat dry. you shouldn’t have said anything, you knew that, but you and junmyeon had always promised to tell each other the truth and that was what it was. the truth. this date wasn’t real. and that was the truth no matter how much you didn’t like it.

“i—” your best friend begins but doesn’t finish, instead shifting in his spot on the checkered fabric. “i guess.” his thumb fiddles with the ring resting on one of his fingers, “unless you want it to be.” he then mumbles, so close to a whisper that he’s not even sure you heard him, but you do. of course you do.

“do you want it to be?” you whisper out your own question in response, junmyeon letting it linger in the air before slowly nodding. his movements small but sure. “i want it to be real, if you want it be real.”

junmyeon admits and you feel yourself seemingly freeze in the moment. the truth bubbling in your throat ready to be blurted out. you couldn’t lie, you knew that, but admitting it was quite frankly scary as fuck.

“i want this to be real, i want something between us too.”

maybe you blurted out too much.

you can feel your cheeks heating with embarrassment, heart thudding so hard you’re sure it could break out of your chest at any moment.

but then he laughs, a small chuckle, a chuckle of disbelief.

it seems out of character for the junmyeon you knew but then he’s threading his fingers with yours and leaning so closely towards you that you’re not sure if anything is as you really know it. “me too.” he lets a smile pry at the corner of his mouth, face inches away from yours as his gaze flickers onto your lips. your gaze however focusing on his eyes. the way they seem to store a thousand stars and hundreds of joyf memories. the small flecs of gold running through the brown that somehow glow even at night.

“can i kiss you?” junmyeon hums and a breath catches in your throat but your head nods promptly nonetheless. the feeling of his lips against yours akin to the feeling of electricity, jolting through every nerve in your body, leaving every hair stood tall. his lips soft and so so gentle, yet somehow still emitting fireworks when you meet with them.

fuck. he was a perfect kisser too.

you pull back reluctantly, the need for air suddenly an inconvenience. you want to kiss him again, feel the electricity bolting through you once more, but instead you can’t stop this big grin taking over your features. “what?” junmyeon lets out in a breathy laugh, “nothing.” you shake your head back, letting your heart swell even more.

you copy junmyeon’s actions when he lies back on the blanket, eyes scanning the star lit sky. and you let him pull you close when he wraps an arm around your shoulder confidently.

“so, do you still hate men?” junmyeon’s head tilts with an almost cheeky grin, fingers playing with yours. you let out a breathy chuckle before shaking your head softly, “you’re an exception. the perfect one at that.”

201 notes · View notes

florvinhara · 3 years

Text

my detectives (part 1)

kjahfjhsj i can have a little infodumping... as a treat... anyway this was originally gonna be 1 post but then i got carried away so part 1 in the series of me ranting abt my detectives!

Kira Isabella Song

Romances N, F, or M

Age: 25 at the start of book 1, currently 26

Birthday: February 7

Star sign: Aquarius sun, Taurus moon, Scorpio rising

Height: 5’7”

Hair: Short, ash blonde, a little longer than chin length

Eyes: dark brown

Race/ethnicity: Korean-American

Other appearance details: Several beauty marks on face and body. a few subtle scars on face/legs from falling out of trees, etc. fingers are callused from band practice and left hand fingers are a little crooked from being broken.

Languages: English, Spanish, a few basic phrases in some other languages

Stats:

Charming/Intimidating

Impulsive/Cautious

Sarcastic/Genuine

Friendly/Stoic

Easygoing/Stubborn

Heart/Mind (equal)

Optimist/Pessimist

Team player/Independent

Primary skills: Science & combat

Strengths: Trustworthy, strong, courageous, calm under pressure, compassionate, thorough, clever, good intuition, self-sufficient, sure of herself

Weaknesses: Petty, caustic, distrustful, secretive, lackadaisical, insubordinate, emotionally unintelligent, can be disdainful, uncommunicative, contrary

Personal:

overall body language is casual and unbothered, lowkey her posture is kind of yikes RIP but she has a very fluid way of moving

her voice is smooth and somewhat low in pitch, very even in tone

Loud and/or jumbled sounds sometimes overwhelm her; she usually has noise cancelling headphones with her just in case

Rebellious as a teenager; she started skipping school and getting into fights, did some graffiti and one time she stole a street sign that she may or may not still have

When she wasn’t breaking rules, etc. she was taking boxing lessons, chilling in the library, going on runs, or playing bass guitar in her band

Wanted to get out of Wayhaven as soon as possible after college but was arrested after she came back because she was selling fake IDs and stole a car; absolutely did not want to be law enforcement but Rebecca and the captain essentially made her

The deal was that she would work at the station for 5 years and if she did well/stayed out of trouble she could then quit- she's 3 years into it

deep down if she wasnt a detective she would want to be a paramedic

She shares a lot of mannerisms with Rebecca and they’re way more similar than she’d like to admit

Birds FREAK her out seriously; she’ll deny that she’s afraid of them but she’ll cross the street to get away from them, also hates crowded places and deep water

Scary resting face and has a habit of just... eerily staring at people who are bothering her until they get spooked, but she's not actually that angry or grouchy, she's really just Vibing u know? she's not gonna correct anyone's impression though or they might start like... Talking to her :/

Loves any book/movie/show with a secret society or spy element and stories about a Hero and their Journey, also loves angsty philosophy books; her favorite movies are cheesy but feel-good (The Mummy, Pacific Rim, anything with big CGI monsters)

Doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth but would kill someone for strong coffee; if she’s really tired you can catch her drinking it cold straight from the pot with a straw

Emo/pop punk teen and she definitely cried when MCR broke up, she also listens to a lot of Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Dottie West, Patsy Cline, etc

She’s been drawing since she was a kid- mainly works with charcoal and sometimes pastels. her sketchbooks are like her diaries and she’s never shown them to Anyone Ever

In her spare time, she still plays some guitar, draws, or reads; her library is extensive because she keeps every book she’s ever read or intends to read (it’s one of the few things she’ll drop real money on)

Very tactile person and fussy about textures, she prefers ultra soft blankets/pillows and her bed is basically a nest

Practical, efficient, frugal- she doesn’t necessarily find joy in cooking or anything but she can do it well enough, quick showers, uses cheap soap/shampoo, cuts her own hair

Her hands get super dry/chapped in the winter and it hurts very much :(

Never yells; when she gets angry she’s very cold & will Not hold back; every word is designed to hurt bc she’s purposefully poking at things she knows are sore spots

At the start of the books, she’s kind of... sleepwalking through life? like, she was in a not-great place mentally for most of her teens and didn’t really have a plan for the future but law enforcement was definitely not it? She isn’t feeling super passionate about what she’s doing and it kind of sucks to not have joy in purpose :( luckily that’s changing and is gonna be a significant part of her journey through the series!

Her apartment is cluttered but clean and she knows where everything is, if someone moved one of her things she would not be able to find it and it would bother her until she located it

She’s not stubborn exactly? Like she’ll concede an argument if it’s not super important to her and has no problem with losing or backing down in many cases; she’s pretty open minded in that respect, but if something is central to her values then she will Die before she backs down

On that note she’s overall a very logical person but when it comes down to it she'll follow her heart/first instinct

Does not care about rules or procedures At All, she'll follow them if it suits her end goal but otherwise... nope

Lowkey she… did not care about the reveal? it was a surprise but not her first priority in the moment- she kind of already thought UB was sketchy and didn’t trust them, so mainly she was pissed off that Rebecca had sent them to babysit her instead of actually help solve the murders

Speaking of Rebecca their relationship is kind of yikes. Kira isn’t exactly mad that Rebecca was gone so often, but she does think that she kind of forfeited her parenting rights and was annoyed that Rebecca was interfering with her life; first by getting her on the force and then by dropping UB on her. So now it’s Very Awkward between them because Kira doesn’t want to be like… mean but honestly what is there to say?? They’re trying but neither of them like to share personal information so it’s rough

On the subject of sharing, she just… genuinely doesn’t like to open up. Like, it doesn’t come naturally and in her mind it’s just… nobody else’s business what she’s feeling/what’s going on in her life

Genuinely does not realize that people care about her unless they openly tell her lmao... sad hours but at this point in the story she honestly doesnt think that any of UB cares abt her beyond their job besides the one she's dating :(

"Everyone should be allowed to feel things and rely on the support of the people around them, their emotions are Valid. not me though, this is my personal problem and as such its dumb so i have to get over it alone"

Her primary love language is acts of service, she wants the people she loves to have everything they might need; she’s Soft and really just wants snuggles but also she does not want to address it out loud

Her way of asking for affection is to just... stand/sit there and occasionally glance at the person... hovers like a sad ghost until she gets a hug... literally like 🥺👉👈 sjdhdkn Clown girl

She’s sarcastic and makes a lot of snarky comments, but generally she’s pretty honest unless she doesn’t want to talk about something (in which case she’ll brush it off and deflect or change subjects) which is why it annoys her so much when people are willfully dishonest or conniving

Pretty adaptable and capable of rolling with the punches but she generally dislikes surprises and being the center of attention

genuinely she's pretty chill! and a Huge enabler of chaos as well, like unless it's specifically bothering her she's gonna let it happen and mostly she thinks it's pretty funny to watch from the sidelines

in short she's basically like a feral cat who stares suspiciously at everyone from a distance until they successfully pspspsps their way into her heart and then she would die for them <3 but if she's mad she will make direct eye contact while shoving glasses off the counter

ahdgsksg ok last one i swear she Cannot Sit Properly, always has to be some flavor of lounging or leaning or sitting twisted into a pretzel

#my eternal love for u if u made it thru this whole post <3 #lowkey these are gonna double as my writing notes which are currently scattered between 5 million notes on my phone #ANYWAY #twc

11 notes · View notes

qk1 · 3 years

Text

gonna post a dang dream cause it was dang weird and I want a link to send

it was in the form of like, a movie? main character is me but is blonde girl, looking like stock 30-something protagonist chick from an apatow movie. but this is some sort of drama. i can't tell whats going on specifically because the dialogue makes no sense. i am arguing in a room with some other girls, ones older, scolding me i think. i get my things and go.

i get in my car, but where i was parked was in some grass. while driving into the road, i realize its a much steeper dropoff onto the road than i thought, and it bottoms out and damages my car. brand new car all fucked up. im mad but oh well, i drive on.

seems the movie keeps switching genres because now its like a dumb 2000s era college comedy where i keep getting into small accidents as im driving. more and more of the car gets damaged. but like, damaged as in gets hit and falls off completely.

eventually i am driving what is basically a car frame with just wheels, engine, and a couple body panels left (which is funny because that joke doesnt work anymore since nowadays cars dont have frames like that, theyre unibodies, so fuck you dream). i am super pissed off cause there goes my new car, and its all because hundreds of stupid people keep crashing into me.

im driving out in the woods and its getting dark. now the genre switches to horror as i am forced to abandon whats left of my car, on a dark country road in the woods. the last guy i crash into is one last jock from the comedy who is trying to apologize to me stupidly when he gets utterly gored from behind by some mchael myers killer dude.

so obviously i take off running. i try to stay on the road but it turns into trail anf then just into forest. i am gradually less aware of my surroundings until im not even sure why im running and i end up on a train.

there are a couple people on the train, presumably the party i boarded with, but i don't know them. i try to warn them qbout the guy chasing me but they just laugh. then he shows up and kills another person.

he manages to hit me a couple times, and now im like the car from earlier, pieces of me coming off. but its just cosmetic damage this time, for lack of a better phrase. little bits of flesh here and there.

i get hit on the head and i think im fine. but when i examine the damage, a piece of my skull, between my temple and forehead, comes off in my hand, sticky strands of blood and meninges detatching as i pull.

i escape enough to lock myself in a dark-ish bathroom with one other person. i can see enough that i can tell its in a home, not a train. theres a full size tub and a pedestal sink. the other person is pacing back and forth, gesticulating and rambling.

shes explaining some barely comprehensible paranoid delusion about how dreams, ones with a series of scenarios like I'm having, are some kind of matrix prison thing. our souls or consciousness or whatever are forced to jump from one body/reality to the next while the body is perpetually sleeping, somnambulantly performing menial tasks necessary for the prison to function.

the dreams act as instructions for the body. like, in the dream im, say, taking a food item out of a fridge, but in physical reality, my sleeping enslaved body is doing some job that requires bending over, opening a container, and taking a thing out to put into some other container.

but are the dreams just post hoc rationalizations for the otherwise incomprehensible tasks my body is forced to perform, unbeknownst to me, beyond my control?

I brush off their schizophrenic conspiracy yheory and leave the dark bathroom, abandoning my plan to assess my damage in the mirror. im sure its fine

i walk out and im in an apartment. but its somehow mine? and im hosting a party? but i dont know the place or the people so i guess it's still movie mode. im hungry as hell and all the fast food burgers somebody bought got eaten. i go to the fridge and try to microwave some white castle burgers.

but then everyone is leaving and i have to go with them? for some reason? and this is now like, a lame teens dramedy? like, juno or something? i hate it still? i grab the obly thing in the fridge left and leave with them. we're out in a neighborhood street as the sun is coming up.

its the old abandoned neighborhood trope again. this neighborhood is tree lined and was probably pretty, but recently abandoned but there must have been a storm. everything is wet leaves and branches broken off the trees strewn about, clogging the road.

i still have this weed in my hands and im idly picking out stems as we walk. but as i pick i come to realize its just about all stems and either i dropped the flowers or there never was any real weed in it. and im finding inchworms.

i freak out and drop all of it as i realize all the "stems" in my hands are inchworms or some other kind of caterpillar/worm. i try to point out how weird this is but i look up and whoever i was walking with are all gone. im looking around for people and i just see wet broken branches and dead houses.

i notice a big arm-width, 12 foot or so branch is kinda moving. i look closer and its not a branch, its also a worm thing, with that same dry caterpillar texture. freaks me out. but im thinking i must be seeing things, it looked just like a branch a second ago. i look closer at the end of it and i can see its dead-eyed bug face turn toward me.

but for slme reason, maybe because of the fear and panic im feeling, i can see far too much detail (this high-res sharp detail thing happens a lot in my dreams). its face, and all its alien bug features, seem to be segmented, or a lattice of some kind, made up of little spider-like eyes. but the eyes start squirming, like im seeing the tips of larvae in a beehive.

and from these little orifices out pop, one by one, those little stem-like inchworms, the worm was worms all along, all the way down, its all bugs and crawly and wet leaves and dry wiggling worms and i wake up

#dream #unibody vs body-on-frame

2 notes · View notes

brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Text

Behold another Lost Boys holiday special! It was between this and Valentine’s day, but honestly I love writing Christmas specials, its such a cozy time despite the high suicide rates, but lets not get into that. A BIG SHOUT OUT TO @imlostinsantacarla FOR HELPING ME EDIT MY FINAL DRAFT!

Fun Fact! My husband, David (yes, that is actually his name) actually does have the bah humbug hat I mention in the head canons. He’s a heavy metal goth so when I found it at the store I had to get it for him. And you just know if our David found that, he wouldn’t be able to resist it!

Christmas with the Boys

Alright, so the whole touchy, feely and mushy feelings that surround even the topic of Christmas time is not something any of the boys will ever openly admit to enjoying. After all, they see themselves as these bad ass brutal killers who thrive off of death instead of holding hands and caroling with the goodie goodies of this coastal town.

Yet, it's challenging for them not to get sucked into the glitz and glam of the holiday season. Everything is a big deal in Santa Carla. Dia De Los Muertos, Halloween, Thanksgiving- everything! But especially Christmas.

Christmas in Santa Carla dwarfs the frenzy craze of Halloween. The entirety of the boardwalk is decked out with red and green lights that are tightly wound around palm trees, red bulbous bows are wrapped tightly around street lamps, the reds and whites of velvety fabric swirl down the posts, creating the effect of candy canes. All the store windows are painted to appear frosted, or covered with painted snowmen whilst several rooftops are covered with white felt in which mimics the texture and sight of snow. Even the boats in the harbour are all extravagantly decorated in a sea of lights that parade around brightly at night in every color imaginable.

Between the dates of the 30th of November all the way to the 24th of December the city of Santa Carla hosts a plethora of wondrous events in it's annual Holiday Festival. Large green, white and red kiosks are erected, selling a wide range of baubles and treats, from delectable chocolate coated rice krispy Santa Clauses, elf candy apples caked in a plethora of dark chocolate and peppermint, to a variety of Holiday hats, masks and even hand made costumes by the many local artists. Even hand carved candles in wondrous scents of pine, mint, or spice.

Currently, David possesses a black fur Santa hat which he acquired on a night out that boasts the words "Bah Humbug" proudly sewn over the front. It's the only holiday attire he'll even humor. Last time Marko attempted to place reindeer antlers on his head, David had set them on fire roasting atop a pan of chestnuts. Now it's not to say that he's a grinch persay. Rather, the complex and intense emotions that come hand in hand with Christmas can leave him perpetually indifferent at best, disdainful at worst. The whole occasion leaves him displeased. After all, he was an orphan who had been almost eagerly abandoned by his hooker mother left to fend for himself from the beginning, and of course never met his father. Even she could not identify which of her many clients may have been responsible. Most of his mortal life he had lived as a street rat, barely making ends meet by picking the pockets of tourists and Santa Carla citizens oblivious to the true dangers of the lower side of town. The rich and uppity classes who often snubbed their entitled noses his way would never suspect as he lurks between alleyways, leaving them cornered at knife point. It was scarce that he ever did see a kind face in the sea of those who had little interest for anyone that was not themselves. Back then it was rather uncommon for anyone to step outside their own little lives, which led to most interactions, outside of the other boys, having been met with great hostility, thus he had learned to be just as equally hostile in turn. Even the mere thought of anyone suddenly dawning a false kindness due to a certain time of year simply agitated David. It rattled him to the very core in a way very few other things did. Why bother with the lies? Couldn't people just face the very basic fact that they weren't nearly as charitable as they often deemed themselves to be? I mean, the young man had seen firsthand a family having previously snubbed a dirty homeless man with appalled disdain at the sight of his muddied clothes and dirt stained skin, only to then begin volunteering at a soup kitchen to purge whatever guilt they carried on their conscience once the holiday season began. The whole ordeal was pitiful! Nevertheless, - more so for Paul and Marko's sakes than his own -, he did humor these traditions amongst the holiday's festivities. Ruining a good time just wasn't his style. Unless they started fucking singing.

Most traditions David could tolerate, some he even enjoyed slightly; although he would never be caught dead admitting something as embarrassing as that! However, he just couldn't stand Christmas carols! They were the bain to his immortal existence. The repetitive nature of these overly cheery jingles left him covering his ears lest they nest in his brain leaving him humming the same damn melody for weeks. This was the case because the dynamic duo of dumbasses were well aware of his hatred for Rudolph the Red Nosed fuckin' roadkill! Stupid red nosed abomination.

“OOOOOOH-,” Paul begins with cheerful mischief.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” David seethes through tightly clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut in indignance.

Paul hesitates. He looks at Marko. Marko looks at Paul. Wicked grins of agreement spread wide like wildfire across their faces as their master plan comes into play. Full throttle. What’s more fun than annoying the shit out of David? One on the left, the other on the opposite side of the cave on the right. This was nothing but Divine perfection if you asked the two troublesome vampires.

“OOOOOH DASHING THROUGH THE SNOW!” Paul belted out at full volume.

“IN A ONE HORSE OPEN SLEIGH!” Marko followed in suit, the widest eerie grin plastered on his face.

“OVER THE HILLS WE GOOOO” Paul howled enthusiastically.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU BOTH!” David's voice hit a whole new octave it had never in all his life so far. All the while Dwayne had opted to vacate the room lest he be caught in the middle of the escalating madness with Laddie in tow. He loved these guys, but not enough to dive head first into their fuckery.

Paul thrives during the Christmas holidays! How could he not? The food, the punk rock covers of Christmas songs, the absolute babes prancing around the town in Santa hats under mistletoe?! He loved it all! You can find him sneaking under mistletoe with many sweet honeys on a constant basis, regardless of whether or not he's acquainted with them. Most do roll their eyes or laugh it off, but every once in a blue moon the guy will get a little lovin' from a beach babe in the Yuletide mood. What else could he ask for? You can bet he’ll run into the woods December first, and quite literally RIP a pine tree out of the ground to bring home like a wee carrot being plucked from the ground. The bigger the better! He may even drag Dwayne or Marko along with him if it's too big for him to carry himself. And all the boozy drinks he can concoct up? This boy is in his element! Mulled wine, spiked eggnog, candy cane vodka, butterscotch bourbon hot chocolate?! Yes! David straight up refuses to try anything that Paul creates himself (remember the concoction he made in Max's kitchen? Those poor goldfish....) which is also another reason why he has Dwayne help him. Or rather, the other boys insist the most responsible of them monitors the blonde lest he poison them with some sickly brew. That, and the fact that Dwayne's the least likely out of all of them to blow up the damn kitchen!

Dwayne is indeed the designated cook during the holiday rush, albeit a field even he tends to struggle. Avoiding the kitchen catching aflame, perfecting his craft lest he blow up the stove, leaving only a pile of ash in its wake. As previously mentioned, ever since the dreadful chain of events that lead to the unfortunate destruction of Max's kitchen, this raven haired vampire has attempted his hand at learning to use a stove properly: Although he often finds himself forgetting ingredients either in the midst of cooking or after the final product is done and he's taken a big bite.

“Shit! I forgot the milk and eggs!” Dwayne grumbled with a mouthful of dry crumbs, a true disgrace of a cookie.

Paul always gives him crap for it of course.

“Oooh I just thought you were going for a sandy, dusty dry cookie kinda thing.”

"Yeah man, these taste like ass!" Marko would cough out in midst of choking.

"And what, like you dumbasses could do any better," Dwayne retorts with a huff. Only Star manages to have any manners when testing his failed baking endeavors.

"Well I mean, the taste isn't that bad. Just a little dry is all."

"At least Marko wouldn't be choking to death." David would mutter from the darkest corner of the room, a little late in the conversation.

In all honesty, Dwayne's biggest motivation when it came to improving his skills was obviously Laddie. The kid never got much of a Christmas whilst living with his mom, so now that he was with the boys, he wanted to ensure that Christmas's were something that Laddie would remember for all eternity. Though granted, it is quite the mess when he was helping in the kitchen. But when the mini vamp grins from ear to ear whilst coated in flour and rapidly stirring an overflowing bowl of chunky cookie dough--the sight is too freaking cute!

Since Laddie joined the boys, they participate in Secret Santa every single year, which definitely includes Paul bursting through the entrance of the hotel as Santa on Christmas day. We won't talk about the fact that each year he almost falls flat on his face and swears, ruining the surprise for the kid.

"Santa where are your reindeer," he'd question, to which Santa Paul scoffs

"Pff, reindeer, I don't need any fucki- Ow," cut off by a firm and covert kick to the shin from Star, Paul quickly changes his response. "Oh! Ho ho, well, you see little boy, Santa can fly too! On his, uh, uhm… magic motorcycle! Yeah, that!"

But it's okay because Laddie already KNEW (he figured it out a year or two ago after Paul's beard fell off not once, but three times), he just doesn't have the heart to tell any of them because, well Paul really gets into it. And he knows the others are playing along for his sake. But to be fair, Laddie would have to be pretty dumb to believe it was Santa. I mean, the beard Paul's wearing is hanging half off his face by this point! But anyway, just like Paul's style, the entirety of the goody two shoes schpiel is thrown out the window, replaced with sleeves that have been ripped off, muddy boots, spiked bracelets and his Metallica shirt in full view beneath his flared red coat. He calls this BIKER CLAUS!

Laddie is not a squasher of traditions! But there was the one time that David had to intervene when Paul and Dwayne thought it would be great to use Laddie as the star at the top of the tree. David practically had a heart attack. Well, that's impossible but it still felt like he was having one!

“Ho ho ho! Now, don’t be a bitch, little David or Santa will have to give you coal.” Paul stated mockingly to David, brows furrowed.

“Well, Santa,” David scolds, a wry smile developing on his face when setting down the eight year old now off to shake his presents beneath their behemoth of a tree. “You best be careful. You never know what's in those milk and cookies, hm?”

Each year Marko buys bird toys for the pigeons in the hotel. Well, buy is probably the wrong word. More like he liberates the stores of their stock. And then for the next six months, David has to hear the agonizing jingle of bells. David almost roasted one pigeon in particular that kept flying over him to drop the ball with a bell in it on his head. That was Paul's entertainment for the next five hours, hell, he'd try to find it if the bird lost it and give it back. Marko defends the pigeon. Between running through stores buying up surprises for his friends, he's helping Paul throw out decorations for the cave. The dollar store has some surprisingly unexpected treasures, allowing him to deck the fucking halls to the max. Tinsel here, ornaments there, tiny light up trees to hide around the caves, a butt ton of cinnamon pine cones which he ends up throwing back and forth with Paul.

And Paul often steals his gifts or goes dumpster diving for any hidden gems. He forgets to take the tags off of them the majority of the time, which is always an indicator whether or not its new. Any time Star asks where he got them from he refuses to answer. Just gets up and walks away. But for David's gift? Well this lucky bastard has found coal in the dumpster and chucks it to David when he's not looking and he sighs deeply in disappointment because this is the third year Paul has done this.

"Huh? What? Who did that? Wasn't me. Somebody's throwing stuff."

Other than that he'll find a fat bag of charcoal and just tape the name David on it. David is certainly not amused. Dwayne will actually try to figure out what the others want, and has the sense to save the money taken from their previous meals. After all, they're dead, they wouldn't have much use for it anyway. He's not about to waste his hypnosis on some poor cashier. That would be a waste of time in his eyes.

When Christmas did arrive the tree was piled with mysterious boxes crudely mashed and taped together with bows and ribbons underneath it. It's obvious which ones are from Star since those gifts are wrapped in neatly pressed paper, wound tight beneath curled ribbons that remind the boys of her hair. Marko often goes on a food run rather than allow them all to be subjected to a potentially charred turkey, no offense to Dwayne of course. So, with a table covered from end to end with copious bowls of gravy, potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, a beast of a turkey in the center packed to the brim with cornbread stuffing, the boys cram into their chairs knocking back beers and spiked cider. Keeping to their own traditions, after fattening up, they gather around the tree and play card games, just as they had over eighty years ago on that frigid night. David still slays them in poker, and Marko is an utter dark horse when it comes to blackjack. Paul insists they try Go Fish. No one ever wants to play Go Fish. Closer towards the end of the night Dwayne will slip away to Jasper's shrine and bring him a fresh glass of rum as well as unwrapping what he got him that year. While Dwayne is there, the other boys will join him - omitting Star and Laddie left unaware of the Lost Boy they'd never met - in celebrating the last hour or so of the Holiday season with their fallen comrade.

Although Christmas time is often about uncomfortable mushy moments and emotions that create deep, unfamiliar times for David. The entire ordeal becomes that for everyone of the boys and Star. But God forbid anyone who even mentions it! I mean, it's kinda obvious though considering he's spending it with the people he always called family, knee deep in traditions that are sentimental to himself and the boys. There's a fluster of emotions running rampant during this particular Holiday Season, and although the blonde brooding vampire decides to squint at it with skepticism he savors these moments, knowing like Jasper, it could all be swept away with a single ray of light or the foolish hand of a hunter. So as they sit, drunk, full, and laughing beside Jasper's grave he can't help but smile at the sentimentality of it all. Christmas is a pain in the ass, but… it's a pain he'll gladly sit through for his brothers.

97 notes · View notes

thompsborn · 4 years

Note

thompsborn #20 ??? ur writing is so good 🥺

i could literally cry i was hoping someone would send in thompsborn god fucking bless lets go

20. …on a scar.

warning(s): harrison thompson is a piece of shit and this talks about a past drinking problem and vaguely talks about a memory of drunken abusive behavior

(the list) (send me a ship and a number)

—

From where they are, at a small little AirBnB hours outside of the city, they can see the stars. They shine and simmer in the inky black sky, twinkling beautifully and looking down on two boys, sitting at the edge of the lake close to their temporary getaway stay, a blanket beneath them and another blanket draped over their shoulders. For a long, long time, it’s quiet, save for the sounds of nature, the breeze rustling the trees and the leaves shifting against the swaying grass. Harry hums under his breath, uses their intertwined fingers to bring the back of Flash’s hand to his lips. Flash looks away from the stars with fond amusement in his eyes and says, not for the first since they left the city, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“No,” Harry says—also not for the first time, but just as happy to remind Flash of it as he was when he said it in the car. “But I wanted to. It’s your birthday weekend and I like spending my dad’s money on shit he doesn’t like. For instance, spoiling my boyfriend for his birthday because I adore him and I can. Deal with it.”

“Norman Osborn is going to kill me one of these days,” Flash muses, snickering.

Harry rolls his eyes. “He’s dead if he tries. Pete would kick his ass before we even blinked.”

At that, Flash lets out a snort, lulls his head back to squint up at the stars again. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that. Being friends with an overprotective superhero is so tiring.”

“Oh, yeah, I totally believe you. Tell me, what was your username on Instagram again? Before you found out who Spider-Man was?”

Flash winces. “Low blow, asshole.”

Harry beams, clearly enjoying himself. “Just keeping your ego in check, babe. Stop moving so much when I’m trying to cuddle with you.”

“Why do you whine so much?”

“I have a complex,” Harry shrugs. “Daddy never loved me, Mama died when I was oh so young, and now I never shut the hell up, or something like that. I stopped listening to my therapist when she looked grossed out about me having a boyfriend, so there’s no saying for sure. Now stop moving, you’re letting cold air under the blanket and I’m freezing my ass off.”

In an act of maturity, Flash sticks his tongue at out Harry. Clearly just as mature, Harry reaches up with the hand that isn’t holding onto Flash’s and flicks him in the nose. Flash huffs. “Idiot.”

“Less talking, more stargazing.”

Though Flash rolls his eyes, he quietly complies, leaning into Harry’s side and letting out a content sigh as the blanket draped around them shifts to cover them better, staring up at the stars with wide eyes. Harry glances up as well, but quickly finds his eyes drifting back down, taking up the close up side profile of his boyfriend with a little smile on his face, scanning over the curve of his nose and the angle of his jaw and—and a scar, just below his left ear, a faded line that’s only really visible due to Flash’s hair shifting back and uncovering it.

“Where’d this come from?” Harry asks.

Flash’s lips twitch, still looking up. “I thought you said less talking,” he quips, but it’s light and breezy. He looks to Harry, brow quirked.

Harry doesn’t respond to that, brings up his free hand to brush the tip of his finger along the line, almost two inches long, starting just below the ear lobe and angled diagonay to the hinge of Flash’s jaw. “The scar,” Harry says, feels unnerved by it’s placement. “What is it?”

“Wh—?” Flash stops, brings up his own hand to feel for the scar, wincing when his fingers skim across the barely noticable change in texture when he touches it. “Oh. Right. I, uh—I don’t actually remember what happened, exactly. I know I was pretty young, like—like, it was before my parents had Jesse, so they were even more shitty towards me than they are now. My dad had a drinking problem, back before Jess was born, and I know he was drunk, and I made him mad, somehow, and... and glass. I remember glass, but that’s pretty much it. Had to get stitches, though, and when I woke up in the hospital, my dad actually hugged me. I know it was an accident, whatever it was that happened, but I also know that it was his fault, even if he didn’t mean to do it, y’know?”

Harry doesn’t reply for what feels like a long time, just stares at the scar with something twisting in his gut, hot and painful and sad. “I’m sorry,” he eventually says, voice soft. “Jesus, that’s—I’m sorry. You deserve better than that.”

“All of us got a pretty shitty hand,” Flash says, shrugging. “We make do. It’s survivable.”

“You deserve more than survivable, Flash.”

There’s a heavy sort of lilt to Harry’s tone that makes Flash pause and stare up at the stars for another long moment of quiet, before, slowly, almost carefully, he tells Harry, “This is pretty great. This, you... it means, y’know... everything you‘ve done for me, what we are and where we’re at, everything... it means a lot to me.”

Within his chest, Harry’s heart thuds, loud and fluttery and insistent. It beats with purpose, and he struggles to think of what to say, so he opts not to, at least for the moment, instead tracing his fingers down Flash’s jaw gently, until he can lightly grab his chin and tilt their heads closer together, but he doesn’t turn Flash’s, keeps him facing forward in order to press his lips gently to the scar, lingers here for what could be considered too long, and then pulls away, but not very far, keeps his voice soft and gentle and says, for the first time, “I love you.”

Flash doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, not at first, but then he’s turning his head with something magnificent in his eyes and he whines, “You asshole. I wanted to say it first.”

“Too bad,” Harry snickers. “You gonna say it back? Before I start to freak out?”

“I love you, too,” Flash says. “I love you a lot.”

Harry grins. “I want to hear you say it again but if I‘m not kissing you in the next two seconds, I’m going to burst into flames or someth—”

Flash leans in before Harry can finish speaking, but Harry doesn’t really mind.

#thompsborn #harry x flash #flash x harry #flashharry #harryflash #flash thompson x harry osborn #harry osborn x flash thompson #my writing #promptfills

29 notes · View notes

mistiedwagonfyre · 4 years

Text

M(erry) Monday: Just Some Get to Know You Stuff...

So I got these from moonysmind so I should probably @ them...

@moonysmind-blog

Ok, let's get this party started!

1. Do you prefer writing with black or blue pen?

Blue if I'm writing something, black if I'm outlining a paper. But overall, black pens are my go-to just because I have more of them. I seriously need to stock up on blue pens... Also, who uses a red pen for anything other than corrections just because that's the way they've been taught?

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or the city?

The Country. Or somewhere in the middle. I just feel like I'd be able to manage less people over more people and get to know them more personally. And, let's be honest, the country has gorgeous skies and sprawling fields and meadows. And it feels like you could take a deep breath and just absorb the atmosphere.

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

Balance. It would help in everything because yours truly is a ball of clumsy fluff.

4. Do you drink your tea or coffee with sugar?

Heh, I drink hot chocolate with marshmallows so...

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

Anything I could get my hands on. I. Love. Books. My favorite series as a kindergartener was the Magic Tree House tho.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

Depends on my mood. Baths are for when I've got tons of time to just relax and get my mind off things and showers remind me of rain and I love them too. I take showers more often but that doesn't mean anything.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which would you choose?

This is a hard one cuz I love all things mystical and magical...

My immediate thought was a dragon but they get killed a lot in the myths and they're almost always stuck guarding something. Then I was like, ok then. What about a phoenix? So ya, I'd be a phoenix. Don't get me wrong, I'd totally go with all the mythical creatures and just cycle through them all, just if I had to choose just one it'd be a phoenix. Maybe, since I'd technically live forever, I could meet every single mythical creature ever. That'd be pwetty cool...

8. Do you prefer reading paper or electronic books?

Paper. It's what I've grown up with. I know, classy me. Also, there is nothing quite like the smell of a new book. Just sayin'.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

Punny t-shirts. All I'm gonna say.

10. Do you like your name? Would you ever change it?

Yes. If I had to change it, I'd love to be Reyna or Luna. Otherwise, I'm keeping it.

11. Who is a mentor to you?

Mostly myself. I taught myself to draw, anyhow. If not me, my mom or my newest art teacher or my neighbor.

12. Would you ever want to be famous? If so, what for?

Yes and no. I want to inspire people (whether with art or my quirky personality) but don't want the pressure that popularity and fame brings.

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

If being a night owl counts as restless, then yes. If being a deep sleeper when I am actually asleep doesn't, then no.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic?

Considering I like guys who are chivalrous and funny... yes?

15. Which element best represents you?

Water. I'm chill until all my suppressed emotions rush out. You can't hold back the ocean forever. And you can't prevent the inevitable: Me being weird. Just ask my sister, she thinks I'm insane (which is probably accurate). Also, I may seem shallow on the surface, but I can actually be very deep sometimes. I could go on and on about my relationship with water, but that's a tale for another time.

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

Everyone. I love strengthening relationships with people. It makes the group stronger as a whole.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

Always.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

I'd love too, but then storyteller Mistie will appear and this list will become infinitely longer. You'll have to ask me in my questions tab if you really want to hear one.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

Can't decide which is weirder: Watermelon with taco seasoning or raw onion with mustard... Both are equally delicious in the summertime at a BBQ.

20. What can you see outside your bedroom window?

A ladder, some rocks, and a dead vole. My old room had a much better view...

21. What are you most thankful for?

My Savior

22. Do you like spicy food?

Not particularly, no.

23. Have you ever met someone famous?

Alex Boyé. He went to a really unsanitary restaurant before he came to our house one time and puked all over our newly waxed floors. I feel bad for him. Everyone but him knew not to eat at that runofthemill A&W on the way up. He still put on a mini concert for us tho and that was pretty considerate of him, because he did it even though he can't have felt like doing it.

24. Do you keep a diary or journal?

Yup. I've got entries from back in kindergarten, amazingly. Granted, back then I wrote in pictures.

25. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

Pencil. I'm human, I make mistakes.

26. What is your star sign?

Well, I was a Pisces. But then they discovered that there are more stars in the sky, just like there are more fishes in the sea, and just bunched a bunch of Pisces together so now I'm Aquarius. I'm still a Pisces at heart tho.

27. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

Crunchy. Better texture. Soggy cereal is oatmeal in my mind and if you want oatmeal, you actually make oatmeal, not let your cereal sit out for who knows how long.

28. What would you want your legacy to be?

Legacy is a tricky thing. You've gotta know what people are gonna think of you down the line. I want mine to be simple: she wasn't afraid of who she was and what others would think of that. She was herself, and that's all that matters. I feel like that's the best legacy I could have for the future generations who will grow up in a world of trial and tribulation.

29. Do you like reading? What was the last thing you read?

ABSOLUTELY! I just finished Lodestar from Keeper of the Lost Cities. I shoulda read these books years ago but they're still fan-freaking-tastic!

30. How do you show someone you love them?

I guess my love language is acts of service or whatever. So I'd probably serve them and do tons of sweet things for them.

31. Do you like ice in your drinks?

No, it makes it all watery. Blegh.

32. What are you afraid of?

Lots of things. I just only realize when they come along and forget what they are afterwards. Sure, it may seem nice, but it makes the terror of coming into contact with them once more infinitely more terrorizing. But bugs are extremely horrifying. And so are arachnids.

33. What is your favourite scent?

Rain with freshly mowed grass and newly printed books at a campfire with Smores by the seashore. No one will ever be able to create this magnificent scent.

34. Do you address older people by their first or last name?

Depends on how close we are.

35. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

Does this mean that everything is free? Well I'm gonna stockpile food and stuff and then ship them off to 3rd world countries. I'd try to save as many lives as possible. Or I could go there in person to deliver said goods... Yup. I've decided that that's what I'm gonna do!

36. Do you prefer swimming in pools or in the ocean?

Pools have a veil of safety but the ocean is much more beautiful and alive. Also, the smell of chlorine is gross. And the taste. Blegh.

37. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground?

If it looks old and worn and dirty like it's been there a while, imma take it. Chances are whoever lost it has been long gone so I can actually take that $50 w/o feeling guilty. Otherwise I'd leave it there.

38. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

Heh, I used to wish on airplanes, satellites, and planets because I thought they were 'special stars'.

39. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

To be kind, even when it is inconvenient. I don't know how many times someone has held the door open for me even when it seemed much more convenient for them to just go inside where it is warm and just let me open the stupid door on my own.

Maybe I'd teach them that even the smallest acts can have the biggest impact. One of the two. Probably both.

40. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

Heh, you're talkin' to the girl who doesn't want her ears pierced. No way in heck am I getting a tattoo.

41. What can you hear right now?

Music and the sound of my thoughts.

42. Where do you feel the safest?

In a book.

43. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

Darkness and fear.

44. If you could travel back to any era, which would you choose?

The one with Michelangelo, Leonardo, and all those other guys that the ninja turtles were named after.

45. What is your most used emoji?

It's not even an emoji. It is literally XD. Either that or (^^)

46. What is your favourite season? Why?

Torn between winter (snow), spring (life coming into bloom), and fall (all the pwetty colors).

47. How would you spend your ideal day?

On a window seat during a thunderstorm either sketching or reading a book all wrapped up in a blanket. Preferably with a cat. Sipping warm apple cider or hot chocolate with marshmallows.

48. Describe yourself using one word.

Me.

49. What do you regret the most?

Not realizing certain things sooner.

50. Invent your own word. What does it mean?

Crushyblushy (adj. n.)

The general mannerisms an individual enacts around people that they like (specifically in crush and/or love situations).

syn: awkward, quirky, shy, blushy

ant: confident, flirty, aplomb, able

#all about me #50 things #get to know the artist #get to know the blogger #get to know me #reblog #me #just me #hi #quirky #dwagon #mistie #love y'all #mistie monday #monday #merry monday

2 notes · View notes

thetygre · 6 years

Photo

30 Day Monster Challenge 2 - Day #15: Favorite Great Old One/Monster God

1. Nurgle the Great Unclean One (Warhammer)

I think you can tell a lot about a person by knowing which of the Chaos Gods is there favorite. I’m not saying there’s a right answer, but I’ve always been a Nurgle man myself. Nurgle is more than just the daemon god of disease and entropy; he’s the god of the value of life. Nurgle loves all of his children equally, down to the smallest virus. It can be hard for people to accept that, to realize that they have as much cosmic significance as a single-cell organism, but that’s just because they don’t realize how much love the Urfather has for that little cell. In Nurgle’s phlegmatic embrace, all of us are equal, regardless of race, gender, or cell count.

Nurgle asks only that you spread the love he has so willingly given, so that all may be his children. Death and disease are natural parts of life; we struggle to fight them so, but they always come back to us. Through Nurgle, we may exalt in the power of pus and the greatness gangrene. We grow stronger with each infection, and every tumor is a sign of endurance. We do not die when the Plague Bearer calls us; we merely transform for the vermin and bacteria that consumes us, to be reborn in the eternal cycle. Truly, Grandfather Nurgle moves in wondrous ways.

2. Ithaqua the Wind Walker (August Derleth)

It should come as no surprise that the god of all wendigos is one of my favorite Great Old Ones. The Ithaqua Cycle is probably the best thing August Derleth wrote, for what ever that’s worth. Ithaqua is just such a chilling god; the image of some skull-faced giant thing turning around a mountain is the stuff of nightmares. Ithaqua is the primal urge inside life, the need to do anything to survive in an unrelenting environment. He walks in the cold places of the world, but also in that cold space between worlds, spreading his cannibalistic madness from world to world. Ithaqua himself seems hardly necessary, or the countless wendigos that follow him. It’s the chaos and horror he causes between people in a desperate situation, pitting one man against the other and breaking taboos until only the strongest is left. Ithaqua is the cold and brutality of the North personified.

3. Lolth the Queen of the Demonweb Pits (Dungeons and Dragons)

Lilith is so pastiche these days. You know where the real rebellious queen of evil action is at? Spiders, man, and Lolth is the Spider Queen. Lolth has been in Dungeons and Dragons since the beginning. Wherever the dark elves go, Lolth goes too, like any deity, and her absence from a setting is noticeable. She’s one of D&D’s greatest villains, and countless adventurers have lost their lives in the Demonweb Pits. Her entire realm is an arachnid hell crawling with spiders as small a mite to as big as her spider-golem palace. Lolth is an entity of contrasts; her priesthood is a strict matriarchy, but Lolth herself is absolutely insane. It’s hard to tell if there’s anything left of the elf goddess she used to be. Beneath the layers of scheming, beauty, racially motivated hatred, and plans to conquer the known multiverse lies a beating heart of blind hunger, an overwhelming instinct to survive by strength alone.

4. Saaitii the Hog (William Hope Hodgson)

Saaitii is actually what got this particular entry in the challenge. See, I wanted to do just ‘Top 10 Great Old Ones’, but then I was worried that not everybody would know what the Great Old Ones are and it’s kind of an arbitrary category that Lovecraft wanted people to change from story-to-story for fun, so then I just broadened the category to ‘monster gods’ and now here we are. Anyway, Saaitii is a monster that William Hope Hodgson’s occult detective Thomas Carnacki encountered in his monster-hunting stories. The locals tell Carnacki that Saaitii is the ghost of a boar wrongfully killed long ago, but Carnacki suspects that it’s an extradimensional something using the spirits of dead hogs to try and come through.

First off, I just want to know what William Hope Hodgson’s deal with pigs was. This is explicitly his second pig monster story, following the pig men from The House on the Borderlands. But the usage of that aesthetic is definitely refreshing a little unsettling. In an age of meme-tentacles, we need new and different cosmic horrors. Pigs can be disturbing; we think of them as cute at best and filthy at worst, but rarely evil or malevolent. Even the meanest boar has a kind of nobility to it. But the Hog brings up images of mindless, vicious cruelty, dark things in the forest and filth. The concept of a higher life form like some extradimensional whatsit coming into our world through ‘lower’ lifeforms strikes a little close to the karmic bullseye for some, turning the tables on humanity and reminding us that in the eyes of the cosmos, we’re just so much more food.

5. Ogdru Jahad the Seven Who Are One (Hellboy)

You’d think there’d be more dragons on the list, but so far it’s just the one. Seven. 369. Whatever. The Ogdru Jahad are the Hellboy/BPRD universes Great Old Ones, and the source of… a sizable amount of trouble there. Not all of it, but most of it. At the dawn of time, the Sons of God formed the mud of creation into seven great dragons that were filled with the shadow of the moon, for whatever reason. Things would have been fine and dandy there, but one little angel named Satan, for reasons that are still unclear, took the fire of God and filled the dragon with it, giving the Ogdru Jahad life. The Ogdru Jahad birthed their 369 offspring, and the angels had to fight them off before the whole Creation thing could get rolling. From that day on, every human culture has been warned about the Ogdru Jahad, and they have been ingrained in the human consciousness as the Dragon, from Tiamat to the Beast of Revelations.

It’s a nice fusion of Judeo-Christian Biblical lore and cosmic horror. I honestly don’t think it would work if it wasn’t for the fact that Satan is notably absent from the Hellboy series and, as of BPRD: Hell on Earth, the Ogdru Jahad are winning, where even their smallest children can cause natural disasters. I love conflating the image of dragons with cosmic monsters. Cthulhu as Leviathan, flying polyps as oriental dragons, hunting horrors as wyverns; it’s a direct play to the archetype that both types of creatures fill. The Ogdru Jahad illustrate that perfectly, simultaneously something the most modern of cosmic horror and the most ancient of monsters.

6. Flowey the Flower (Undertale)

Flowey’s final form gets in on design alone. There aren’t a lot of monster designs that actually freak me out, but Flowey is just horrible. Of course that’s also because it’s a genius bit of sprite animation, with the usage of textures contrasting so hard with the rest of Undertale. It looks like something that ate its way inside out from at least three Madoka witches. The claws, the eyes, the mouths; it all makes something perfectly awful and abhorrent. And, of course, the music. I actually think Flowey’s boss theme rates pretty low compared to other Undertale boss themes, but the title is just something else. How are you supposed to do better than “Your Best Nightmare”?

7. Rom the Vacuous Spider (Bloodborne)

It’s Rom. C’mon. Look, I know she’s not actually a Great One; she’s Kin, like Mergo’s Wet Nurse. But look at her. When I think, “What’s my favorite eldritch monstrosity boss from Bloodborne?” I keep coming back to Rom. Just look at her dumb, stupid face. One of her attacks is just falling over. That’s the most relatable a video game has been for me since I was an undergrad. Rom doesn’t want to hurt anybody; she’s just a giant, stupid bug/fungus thing. You could just walk away, man. You could just leave poor Rom alone. She’s doing her best trying to grant people eyes and you’re over here hassling her. In front of her kids, man. Just leave her alone.

8. Moder the Bastard of Loki (The Ritual)

Y’know, as a jotun, this guy could have been on the giant list, but I feel like its design and concept are too unique for that. This is a special monster, a kind of revelatory creature. Its design is just out of this world, blending human and stag and those creepy little eyes. But there’s so much more to it than just a great design. Its ability to create illusions essentially gives it access to shapeshifting, tying it to the actual mythology of Loki and Norse giants. The actual ritual to appease Moder, where it picks a person up and impales them on a tree, is reminiscent of the story in Norse mythology where Odin impales himself on the World Tree Yggdrasil to gain the knowledge of the runes. Before a person is killed, Moder shows them something precious to them, or a defining moment in their life; it is, in its own way, giving the person a revelation about what is vital in their own universe. Moder, like any good monster, delivers a message about the meaning of reality to the people it encounters.

9. Set the Slithering God (Conan the Barbarian/Marvel Comics)

I like this comic book version of a god. The actual Egyptian deity Set is fairly complex, and actually examining his character and divine portfolio gives insight into how Egypt’s culture changes over time. Comic book Set, on the other hand, is the god of snake villains. He is the snake villain to end all snake villains. Marvel cooked him up for their old Conan comics based off an offhand mention in one of Robert E. Howard’s stories because they needed Conan to have a nemesis. So Conan’s nemesis, the arch-wizard/priest Thoth Amon, worships the dark god Set, regardless of the fact that Thoth Amon appeared exactly once in the very first Conan story. Now, it’s fifty years later and Set is apparently one of Marvel’s Primordial Ultra-Deities.

It’s that mixture of traditional myth and the cosmic I like again, though this time it’s less H.P. Lovecraft ‘cosmic horror’ and more Jack Kirby ‘cosmic action’; new gods and a new mythology for a new medium, but still the same old story. Set is the Serpent, like the Ogdru Jahad, manifesting in human lore as everything from the serpent in Eden to Leviathan. He was the first murderer, able to absorb the power of any other god he ate, and even today he seeks reptile supremacy. Wherever there is Set there are snakes, enacting the cosmic cycle of death and rebirth while lounging in decadence.

10. Haos the Ultimate Bio-Weapon (Resident Evil 6)

… We’re going to do this now, and then we’re never going to do it again. Because we’re going to talk about something good that was in Resident Evil 6. One of the most infuriating things about RE6 is that it had some of the most incredible monster designs in the Resident Evil series. Great designs. The kind of monster designs that other games only wish they could achieve. And they were wasted on one of the worst games the series has produced. One of those designs was Haos, the apparent ultimate bio-weapon engineered by (ugh) Neo-Umbrella in a secret facility at the bottom of the ocean good lord I’m putting this on a list with William Hope Hodgson.

Haos deserves a better game; its design is unnecessarily fantastic. It looks like a ningen crossed with a jellyfish. It’s some far future stage of human evolution driven to its most extreme and bizarre form. There’s something forlorn and sad about it, but also beautiful and powerful. Its concept is purely apocalyptic; Haos will rise from the bottom of the ocean before it finally dies and dissolves into a gas that will spread across the world, turning humanity into zombies and monsters. Herald of a world of gods and monsters and all that. Even its name is kind of cool; ‘Haos’ is literally Siberian for ‘chaos’. And every day I have to wake up with the knowledge that this wonderful, horrible monster was stuck at the end of a Resident Evil 6 campaign. It’s depressing. So here’s to good old Haos; at least here you’ll get some respect.

#30 Day Monster Challenge 2 #30 Day Monster Challenge #Great Old Ones #Warhammer #Nurgle #Dungeons and Dragons #Lolth #Hellboy #Undertale #long post

101 notes · View notes

full-pockets · 2 years

Text

I had a dream but it wasn't one of those cool, interesting dreams. It might have been a fever dream, as I was sick that night.

In the dream, Irileth was married to Ulfberth War-Bear. War-Bear lived in a cabin in the woods and was also a hunter. Irileth still served the Jarl thou, she would visit War-Bear occasionally, as ya know, couples probably do.

My char looks exactly like the OC I based her on, which is impossible ingame without mods, the main thing being her skin is pink, along with others things. Also she's wearing some heavy black armour and weilding a heavy two handed sword.

My char visits War-Bear in his cabin while Irileth is already in my party. According to dream logic, she can be a follower now after completing the Dragon's Rising quest. I also have the option to recruit War-Bear. I do so, thinking its so cute that I have the married duo on my team, a ranger and a sword fighter. I take them outside and things get reeeeally weird.

The whole entire WORLD is a blue colour. There are no textures, no grass, no trees, no animals no NOTHING. BLUE. VOID. Flat blue ground, walls and sky, all the same colour.

Nothing is loaded, except the door to War-Bear's cabin. Not like, connected to the building like how a door would be, just like, the door itself. Also another random door next to it. As soon as my char stepped outside, things got more weird. Irileth and War-Bear started attacking nothing, like just randomly getting hostile, but there was nothing there. Not only that, but parts of their body started to unload as they got farther and farther away from the doors, chasing after the weird nothing they were tryin to attack. It started from their feet up, until only a small part of their torso, head and their weapons were the only parts of them loaded in. It was kinda weird seeing them attack with their weapons with no hands or arms. Also, their attacks are really off. Like, glitchy and messed up. They didn't move naturally.

But wait, there's more. I am freaked out (rightfully so) by the weird blue void and the unloaded bodies attacking somethin that keeps going farther and farther away, forcing more of their bodies to unload the farther they go. I never made my char go that far out, so I go back to the other door, not War-Bear's cabin, it's someone else's cabin. The game loads in mostly normal. It's a nice cabin too, real roomy with nice decor and furniture. One off thing is that a women is in a fetal position, knees pressed up against her body as she sits on the floor, facing the wall, damn near clipping into it. War-Bear and Irileth instantly go aggro and attack the woman and some guy who I didn't see behind the counter, who is also in that same position. War-Bear one hit kills the woman and her body gets really glitchy, she keeps clipping in and out of the wall, floating in the spot she was killed. He moves on to the guy Irileth is attacking and they both start to attack that guy. He doesnt fight back. He doesn't move. He doesn't even make noise as he's being attacked.

At this point I still haven't moved my char and I'm thinking 'maybe I should restart the game nothing normal has happened since I turned it on'. My dream ends there.

#yalls it was such a struggle to copy/paste this from one thing to my memo pad to here #my phone is actim stupid #anyway I am mostly no longer sick #I wasnt even truly sick I was overworked from my job yay #Skyrim #Elder Scrolls V #tes #tesv #not ac #dreams

0 notes

k-i-s-m-e-t · 6 years

Text

Secret Santa

TianShan Xmas Event: Presents (Day 2) Fandom: 19 days Rating: Mature Status: 1/2 Warnings: None Pairing: TianShan Words: 4,102

Summary: Based on this freaking hilarious & amazing prompt!! I hope you don’t mind that I ran with it. I’m not sure this is what you expected but hey lol enjoy!

When Mo took the volunteer job at the mall, he had done so begrudgingly. It was punishment after all, brought about by boiled-over frustration that had fueled the language he’d used to respond to his teacher’s inquiries about his tardiness. It was the third time that week he’d been late. Put on the spot, he didn’t know how to explain that money was always tight around the holidays and he’d been walking to and from school each morning in lieu of the train.

He was monopolizing any place he could cut some corners to save a few dollars. The allowance he got wasn’t much, but he saved as much of it as possible. This year he’d told himself he’d get his mom something good for Christmas. He hated seeing that overjoyed look on her face when she opened his handmade or cheap gifts. Like the “Mom of the Year” plaque he’d made in shop class last year that she boasted about having on her desk at the hospital, or the cheap earrings he’d bought at a stand she still wore proudly several times a week. A person like her deserved better, she deserved the world, and it frustrated him that he was just a broke high school student.

Getting a job was, “Completely out of the question!” she’d barked when he had off-handedly mentioned it. It was her duty to provide for him, not the other way around. If they needed to make ends meet, she’d work double shifts, he couldn’t afford to slack off on his studies.

Seeing his taken-aback expression, she’d softened instantly. “I know you mean well honey,” she’d said a hand cupping his cheek, “but we’re doing fine.”

The command to, “See me after class!” had been given on the spot and when the bell rang Mo hung back, dread setting in. He waited until the room cleared before even considering approaching his teacher’s desk.

Taking a breath, he stood and gathered his belongings, packing them up slowly, stalling for time. Sweat from his palms smeared along the cover of his history textbook as he fumbled with it, slick fingers shoving it into his bag. He nearly yanked the zipper off his bag when his name is called.

The walk to the front from his back-row seat seemed infinite, blood pulsing in his ears, each step forward magnified in the now empty classroom. But then he was there, hanging back a few steps as if proximity could diminish his impending punishment. He figured this slip-up would earn him a few days minimum in detention.

“What?” Mo spat standing uncomfortably in front of the teacher’s desk. Agitation amounting from anticipation.

The man looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“Watch your tone with me, that little outburst you had this morning coupled with your tardiness has you looking at a week-long suspension right now.”

“What the fuck!” Mo exploded.

The man slammed his open palm down on the desk. “Language!”

Mo flinched.

He pointed a finger level with Mo’s chest. “One more offense like that and we can finish this conversation in the principal’s office.”

Mo clenched his fists, seething, he could feel his temper flaring but he nodded. A week long fucking suspension? His mom was going to kill him.

“As of today you have been tardy 13 times! 13! And you don’t just show up five minutes late, oh no! Sometimes you stroll in here 20 to 30 minutes late. I need an explanation for this, it’s completely unacceptable!”

When Mo remained silent the man rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the tension gathered there, then sighed.

“Look Guan Shan, I’ve seen a significant amount of improvement in your schoolwork and behavior this year. I’m proud of you. I don’t want to see you start backsliding, got it?”

“Got it,” Mo mumbled.

“Look, let’s make a deal: The Humanitarian Club, which I lead, needs a few more volunteers for our Santa’s Workshop at the mall. We desperately need a photographer as our current one recently got sick with the flu and I know one of your electives this year was photography. I’ve seen your work and I’m pretty confident in your ability. You’d just have to take photos of the kids sitting on Santa’s lap.”

“I..” Mo hesitated.

“Don’t feel pressured to do it but.. I’ll be frank with you, it’s either this or suspension. At least this won’t show up on your record. Also, I’d need you to be able to commit to doing it for two weeks, just until our photographer gets better.”

An image of his mother’s disappointed face flashed through his mind, he sighed… but two weeks?

“Ok, when do I start?”

His teacher smiled, glasses glinting. “Today.”

That afternoon Mo found himself at the local mall, and as the automatic doors slid open he was immediately engulfed in a retail wonderland, Christmas style. He wandered around for a bit, window shopping, eyes drinking in the season’s assortment of clothing and trainers in his favorite shop’s windows.

Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure where he was supposed to meet for this volunteer job, he hadn’t really paid attention to the details. He been too relieved that he wouldn’t have to explain to his mother his suspension and could instead spin the situation in his favor, as doing some community service out of the goodness of his own heart, having caught the holiday spirit. Yeah… she was going to see right through that lie.

In the food court he made his rounds, filling up on free samples to stave off his hunger until dinner. As he exited the half circle of vendors he could see a Santa’s Workshop display near the children’s play area. Tossing the toothpick the last sample had been on, he shouldered his backpack and headed over.

The site was bustling and he could recognize plenty of familiar faces from school. A few eyed him warily given his delinquent reputation, but most were absorbed in their duties.

Amid the group he spied Zhan and felt his body relax, not realizing how much tension had built up. This might not be so bad after all, he thought. Zhan barely talked but neither did he, at least he knew someone here.

“You too?” He inquired as he approached, bumping Zhan’s outstretched fist.

“In a way, my mom’s part of the PTA,” he stated as if that explained everything. “Apparently they never get enough volunteers.”

“Where’s Jian Yi?”

“Why do you assume he’d be here? We don’t do everything together.”

Mo waited.

Zhan sighed. “He had clean-up duty after school & caught a later train, he should be here in a few.”

“Alright everyone,” a bespectacled girl addressed the group. Movement halted as everyone paused giving her their full attention.

“Last week was great and we had an amazing turn out!” Many in the group clapped and whistled.

“Let’s try to do even better this week,” she laughed. “You know your positions, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to talk to me. Let’s go out there and spread some holiday cheer!” A few whooped in response, Mo rolled his eyes.

They all drifted to their respective roles, and as the crowd thinned the girl’s eyes fell on him.

“Oh, it’s you,” she sighed in annoyance. Mo recognized her as his class rep from middle school. The same one that had demanded he stop playing cards on school time.

“Pleasure to see you too,” he quipped.

“Save it, come on so we can get you set up and out of my hair.”

Off to the side there was a trolley parked with several suitcases stacked on top, she pulled off the topmost one, resting it gently on the floor and unzipped it. Nestled between foam cushioning laid the nicest camera Mo had ever seen, let alone touched. She removed it from its casing and held it out to him.

“You’ll be shooting with this.”

Taking it gingerly from her, he cradled it carefully in both hands. The DSLR was a larger model, a Nikon D series, he tested its weight, pleased that it was nice and solid, felt good in his hands. He ran his fingers along the textured gripping on the side. The lens he could tell came standard but the depth it could shoot was still considerable. He’d be able to get plenty of clear, close up shots. Damn he was in love, he would in a few words, totally fuck this camera. It was sexy as hell and sensitive to the touch. Bringing it up to his face, he aligned the eyepiece carefully along the curve of his cheek and brow, lightly pressed the shutter release. The smooth click of the shutter opening and closing was music to his ears, like the purr on a nice sports car. He thumbed at the playback button to review the photo. It was displayed on the screen in crisp quality; a Christmas tree in a store front effortlessly preserved in time.

“Nice,” Mo breathed.

“The photos you take will save automatically & transfer immediately to that computer station,” she pointed “where we display them to allow parents to pick their favorite. There’s a tripod in that bag too that you’ll shoot from, you just need to set up in front of Santa’s chair. All I ask is, that at the end of the night you box everything up just how you found it.”

“Sounds easy enough, so all I have to do is take the pictures.”

“Yea, try not to fuck it up. Oh, also ruin that camera and I’ll kill you.”

“Noted.”

“Oh, one more thing.” She unfolded an elf hat, and held it out to him. “I need you to wear this.”

“I’m not wearing that,” Mo said dismissively.

A hand clutched his forearm and she looked up into his face, light obscuring her eyes behind thick frames, “Yes, you are.”

“Okay, okay!” Mo exclaimed. What the hell was wrong with these people??

To their left a child bounded down the roped off line, dragging his mother behind him.

She patted his arm. “You’re on.”

Once Mo set up the camera and tripod, which he would admit he struggled with, just a tad, things ran smoothly.

The first few kids, though excited, followed his instructions to smile and say cheese. The student playing Santa he was sure helped facilitate the process, the guy was really good with kids. He greeted them in a cheery manner and made them feel comfortable. He even calmed a watery-eyed little girl, wiped her tear streaked cheeks and got her to smile wide for the camera.

Mo couldn’t help but find himself chuckling at some of the jokes he could hear exchanged or Santa’s reactions to their wish lists. It softened his mood and he found himself greeting the parents and kids in similar pleasant manner. He was almost disappointed when 7:30 rolls around and they close-up shop for the day. Almost. Gathering up the camera and tripod he carried them both back to the trolley; unzipped the travel bag and folded up the tripod stowing it neatly in its compartment. Before packing up the camera he pressed the playback button, cycling through the images he’d taken over the past few hours, mentally making notes of where he’d succeeded and how he could improve.

“Nice work today,” a voice said and he was ashamed of the brief scream he emitted.

“Could you announce yourself.”

The class rep leaned back, a smirk on her face. “Where’s the fun in that? Anyways, I saw the shots you took, good thing your stay is only temporary or our current photographer would be out of a job.”

“I…”

“You’re talented, glad to have you on the team. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she clasped his shoulder briefly before walking away.

Mo soaked in her words, a newfound vigor guiding his actions as he popped out the camera’s battery and stuck it into a portable charger to power-up overnight. I’m… talented.

The words carried him afloat as he left, waving an honest goodbye to the few stragglers. Zhan was still hanging around the set and Mo moved to see if wanted to walk home together but the other politely declined. Mo could see Jian Yi cleaning up the and he gets it. No explanation needed.

The high got him through the sliding doors of the mall exit only to be knocked flat on his ass.

He was blinded for a few seconds as the stupid elf hat he forgot to take off is knocked askew covering his eyes. Rage ensued.

“Who in the mother fuck is looking for death?!”

He ripped the hat off and was met with an outstretched hand in his face. Genuinely confused he looked up as the owner of the hand chuckled.

Fucking He Tian, of course.

“Don’t you have a graveyard to lurk in?” Mo bit out irritably, and smacked away the offered hand.

“Are you implying that I’m the grim reaper? I like that,” He Tian purred.

“That wasn’t a compliment.” Mo got gingerly to his feet, dusted his pants.

“Why are you even here? The mall’s closed.”

“I was doing some shopping,” he gestured to the small bag dangling from his wrist.

Mo could tell by the bag’s logo it was from some pricey jewelry store. He rolled his eyes. “Fancy gift for one of your admirers, I’m sure.”

“Not quite,” He Tian said but didn’t offer an explanation.

“Anyways, I gotta get going so are we done here?”

“I can’t lie you look pretty cute in that get-up,” He Tian said, looking him up and down. “Why don’t you come sit on my lap.”

“Yeah, you’re about the 5th guy to spit that line today,” Mo remarked pushing past him. “Try again.”

“Hmm okay, you know you’re pretty cute when you’re wrapped up in your own little world.”

“The hell kind of comment is that?”

“I saw you walking, you looked content with yourself. A nice change from your usual mad at the world persona.”

“And for this you chose to knock me on my ass.”

“You bumped into me, actually.”

“Right.”

“Why don’t you let me walk you home?”

“How ‘bout no?” Mo said stalking off. Body tensed in anticipation of the strong arm he knew would swing around his shoulders and drag him off anyways but nothing came.

He glanced over his shoulder but He Tian was gone. Weird.

The next day wasn’t as easy as the first. It was, in short, mild chaos.

Mo bounced a screaming baby on his hip as the mother and Santa tried to console its twin. He looked down into her ruddy face, eyes squeezed shut, tiny fists balled as she opened her mouth, silent for a few seconds catching her breath, little body vibrating with the subdued rage she planned to unleash. Mo sighed steeling himself for another round of screaming.

‘Why are you crying? You have no real problems, fuck I should be crying.’

“Say cheese,” he dead panned as the mother finally stepped out of the frame, the other child momentarily consoled.

The baby looked surprised in the picture but at least he wasn’t crying. Good enough. Handing over twin number two to Santa, he glanced at the endless line of parents and toddlers.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Click!

The daily 15-minute breaks were heaven sent and he executed his usual system of hitting up the food court, stopping at every food place offering free samples. By the time he had reached the end, his appetite was comfortably sated. There was still about ten minutes left before he was due for the second half of his shift so he sat on a bench nearby, pulled out his phone to review his finances. The amount he’d saved up so far gave him enough bandwidth to explore several options but he still had no clue what to buy his mom for Christmas. After making this much effort it had to be good, memorable, but what do you get the woman that claimed she had everything she’d ever wanted. He rested his chin in his hand in defeat. Ughh, this shouldn’t be so hard. The bench jostled and he glanced to his left, surprised to see Santa sitting next to him.

“Hey.” the guy offered, voice muffled by the giant white beard that obscured most of his face. One hand shifted his belly so he could sit comfortably.

“Hey..” Mo returned.

“Nice job out there today, I didn’t know you were so good with kids.”

“Likewise man, today was.. something else.”

Santa cracked open a bottle of water, taking a few gulps. “Yeah we have days like that but it’s generally smooth sailing.”

They sat in silence for a bit, the soft murmur of the bustling mall and crinkling of the water bottle drifted between them.

“You.. can’t take the costume of?” Mo asked, breaking the silence.

“Nah, can’t risk one of the kids seeing me and realizing Santa’s not a chubby jolly old white dude. Imagine if they found out he isn’t only not real but a high-schooler.

Mo laughed. “They’ll find out sooner or later.”

“That’s cold man,” Santa said but his grey eyes twinkled behind the spectacles.

Mo shrugged, checked his phone. “Crap, breaks up. I’ll see you back at the workshop.”

Santa raised an arm in farewell. “See you.”

Mo jogged the short distance back, but couldn’t shake the odd feeling that he knew Santa. He couldn’t place why exactly, but the costume restrictions made it difficult to see what he looked like and his voice didn’t sound familiar. Whatever, he would ask him his name next time he had a chance.

As soon as he stepped back on site the class rep ushered him back to the camera, scolding him about tardiness being why he was here in the first place.

Face breaking into a scowl, all previous thoughts vanished from his mind as he double-checked the camera battery supply and adjusted the lighting. He’d just finished tidying up around Santa’s chair when the guy returned from break. Mo resumed his place at the camera as the line reopened and mildly subdued chaos ensued.

Two days down. A week and a half to go.

“Who the fuck are you supposed to be? Rudolph?” Mo addressed Jian Yi as he unpacked the camera and tripod for his shift.

“No,” Jian Yi sniffled, wiping at his vividly red nose. “I’m sick. I think I caught something from one of these brats.” He sneezed, open mouthed of course, snot and drool dripping.

“Gross dude, cover your mouth, you aren’t five,” Mo muttered hastily gathering his supplies so he could vacate the area asap.

Every day that passed without coming to a decision on what to get his mom was making him more and more irritable. Walking out to the set, camera at the ready, the sounds of crying increased the closer he got, an opposing battle cry.

Please, just take me now.

When his break came around, he found himself anticipating the arrival of Santa. It’s not like Mo was looking for the guy or anything. Yet meeting up had become almost an unspoken ritual, in the same vein as Mo forgetting to ask for his name.

The question was always at the forefront of his mind but the guy was hilarious and Mo became easily swept up in the conversation, usually not realizing he had again forgotten to ask until he arrived home that night.

This time the guy showed up with dumplings that keep Mo’s mouth occupied the majority of the conversation, as pickings were light in the free sample area. A few of the vendors had caught on to his scheme and conveniently weren’t handing out samples when he came by.

“Can you believe that last kid spat up on me? I’m never having kids,” Santa declared shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah sucks to be you,” Mo chewed thoughtfully. They were quiet for a bit.. “Hey,” Mo started “This is kind of random but what’s your name? I didn’t catch it the first time we talked.”

Santa paused, swallowed. “It’s uh Li Jie,” he said slowly.

“Oh.” Unfamiliar. “I guess I don’t know you after all, I know pretty much everyone at school.”

“I tend to blend with the crowd,” he shrugged, eyes focused on the waning dumplings.

“That’s cool,” Mo said, popping another piece into his mouth. “Me too.”

The week ended and casually spilled into the next. Mo had gotten used to the ebb and flow of the volunteer job, and could proudly say his photography skills had improved considerably. Li Jie and he were becoming good friends but there was something off about never actually having seen the guy out of costume, which Mo joked about. Actors like Li Jie, along with a few others who played Santa’s elves had to get dressed in the mall restroom or come already in garb. Li Jie had a habit of disappearing by the time Mo had finished packing up the camera equipment for the night. He had even invited the guy over for dinner one day but Li Jie had politely declined claiming he was behind on his schoolwork. Understandable, given the fact that they spent three hours after school at the workshop. He had promised to come by once the job ended, a week after Mo’s punishment. Mo had even vented to him about his struggles in finding his mother the perfect Christmas gift, asking him what he should get her.

“You know your mom best,” he had said. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate any gift you give her. Just remember it’s not about the price but the meaning behind it. If the effort comes from a good place, which I know it does, she’ll love it.”

It had brightened his mood at the time but he still wasn’t sure what to get her.

As much as Mo thought he understood life and might even be one step ahead, it had a way of knocking him back ten feet when he least expected it.

“10-4, we gotta brat,” Jian Yi muttered off to his left, pretending to be occupied with adjusting decorations on the set’s Christmas tree.

Mo twisted on his stool, turned his attention to the line, eyes widening as he watched a mother wrangle her screaming daughter into her arms and walk up to Santa’s chair. The girl had a handful of her Mother’s hair and was yelling for all she was worth, limbs flailing.

“Man,” Zhan whispered, “my sister was bad but never like this. “I hope this guy can handle her.”

Mo watched for a reaction from said Santa but it was hard to gauge anything given how much of his face the beard obscured.

The mother looked embarrassed and nervous as she handed the screaming child over to Santa. Mo had to give it to him, the guy was composed, bouncing the girl on his knee, cooing to her, easily calming the crocodile tears. The mother beamed at the turn of events, whipping out her phone to snap a few tear-streaked pictures.

Mo relaxed, relieved to see the situation easily diffused, his heart bloomed a bit in pride for his friend, which he quelled, brain cycling through the mental gymnastics of why he doesn’t actually really care.

Mo had to give it to the guy, he was really good, he watched as Santa leaned in, beard tickling the little girl in his lap, she giggled in response. At this point the lines were rehearsed and Mo could imagine him asking her what she wanted for Christmas. She pondered, tiny face scrunched up in clearly serious thought, then suddenly a tiny fist shot out and she yanked his bread down around his chin.

Mo was on his feet instantly, because no, no way, this couldn’t be happening.

“Ah shit,” he heard Zhan mutter off to his left.

Mo turned on him.

“You knew,” his voice cracked. Zhan looked pained.

“10-4 He Tian is fucking Santa!” Jian Yi whispered loudly behind them. “He’s fucking Santa, are you guys seeing this!”

“Who’s fucking Santa?” another student offered with a snicker.

“Guan Shan..” Zhan said, but Mo doesn’t want to hear it. He felt nauseous and too hot, his hands shaking, felt like couldn’t breathe as if all the air had been sucked out of the space. Mo bolted because fuck this, he would rather have suspension. He can’t believe how stupid he was, how oblivious he’d been, everyone must have known but him. What a fool.

Sorry not sorry to leave y’all on a cliff hanger but part two will come out on Day 5, so if you enjoyed this stay tuned, resolution come soon ;D

As always thanks for reading, your comments & tags give me life x

#19 days #tianshanchristmasevent #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #my writing #kis writes

183 notes · View notes

miss-oscurita · 7 years

Text

A Definitive Guide To Michael Townley/De Santa

I’ve been putting this together for my own reference for a while now (and I’m tired of going through drafts to find it haha!) and I thought it could be fun to share all the canon info about Michael in one concise post. Annoyingly, whenever I think I’ve juiced everything out of this game I find another little tidbit, so it may be added to periodically but if you think I’ve missed anything, let me know and I’ll add it in. Feel free to reblog, share and reference whenever necessary. Enjoy! P.S: The most juicy stuff is under the read more, so don’t forget to click on it!

Disclaimer: All information listed here is canon and is supported by facts and evidence within the game and sources have been linked as available/appropriate. I've tried to avoid adding too much conjecture but have added a little here and there simply to put the facts into context/perspective. - Born 1965. Michael Townley is born. Possibly somewhere in the mid-west, although his exact birth date and location/hometown are never mentioned or confirmed at any point within the game. [sources] - Between 1981/83 becomes star quarterback in high school. Only to later be kicked off the team due to his aggression issues and injuries. [source] - 1985 aged twenty, he had been imprisoned twice by this time. Since he ran a drug trafficking operation and a prostitution ring, and it's most likely he was imprisoned for crimes related to this. [source] - 1985 Michael meets Trevor Philips for the first time, and they are both aged twenty [source] He is carrying cargo across borders and Trevor is running as small air freight operation in North Yankton when they meet. Trevor killed an unidentified man, who was chasing Michael, with a flare gun. This was not the first time Trevor had killed [source] although it is uncertain if it was a first for Michael. - 1988 aged twenty-three Michael commits his first bank big score on the outskirts of Carcer City [source] he walked away with ten thousand dollars. - 1990/1991 aged twenty-five/twenty-six, meets future wife Amanda in a strip club [source] and quickly fathers a child with her shortly after paying for her to have breast enlargement surgery. [source] The pair marry hastily due to the pregnancy. [source] - 1991 First child, a daughter, named Tracey Townley is born. [source] Tracey’s exact age is never mentioned verbally, however it is mentioned in a Bleet she posts. [source] - 1992 aged twenty-seven, Michael’s son Jimmy is born - based on Jimmy being twelve years old when going into wit-pro in Los Santos in 2004. [source] - 1988-2004 Continues to commit various robberies around the United States, working regularly with Trevor Philips, Lester Crest, and various other interchangeable criminal associates. [source 1] [source 2] - 2004 Late Nov - Early Jan (based on Christmas tree inside Ludendorf’s cash depot) aged thirty-nine, after several years of taking scores Michael meets Special Agent David Norton of the FIB and makes a deal to fake his own death and capture/kill Trevor Philips. The final job results in their associate Brad Snider being killed and Trevor escaping. Michael enters a bespoke witness protection program which moves him and his family to Los Santos where they become the De Santas and begin a luxurious new life. - 2004-2011 At some point after arriving in Los Santos, Michael begins visiting therapist Doctor Isiah Friedlander. [source 1] [source 2] His reason for doing so is unknown, but possibly was due to his symptoms of depression/anxiety and post traumatic stress disorder, or because of his infidelities. - June/July 2013 Michael meets Franklin Clinton for the first time. [source] - August 2013 Trevor Philips finds Michael alive and well in Los Santos. - September/October 2013 aged forty-eight, Michael De Santa takes the Union Depository for several millions of dollars with the help of Franklin Clinton, Trevor Philips and Lester Crest.

| → | Under the “keep reading” you will find additional info/facts and little-known trivia about Michael, along with some myths and misconceptions about him, his past and involvement with other characters and events. | ⇠ |

Michael is at least six feet tall. [source 1] [source 2] Michael has blue eyes. [source] Michael is possibly of Irish/Italian decent with a Catholic background, based on the Celtic/Latin/Religious tattoo options within the game. Michael also appears to have a number of scars. [sources] Including one on his top lip and his chest. From some angles he appears to have a group of scars on his chin also, although this could be a texture glitch. Michael has a notable “tick”, in which he frequently stretches/rolls his neck. [source] Michael grew up poor [source] and lived in a trailer park. [source] This couple [image] are most likely to be Michael’s parents. [source] Michael admits he had a tough childhood [source 1] [source 2] in that his father was an abusive drunk. [source] Who was regularly absent from his life [source] although this story is somewhat contradicted by Michael saying his parents stayed together. [source] A possible explanation for this is that his father either took work that required him to travel frequently for prolonged periods (trucker/fisherman/oil rigger for example) or was a low level criminal who went on the run regularly. Michael was an all-state quarterback in high school. [source 1] [source 2] Michael consistently uses good spelling and grammar in texts and emails, suggesting he did reasonably well in school. Michael served two custodial sentences for unknown crimes before the age of twenty. While in prison Michael may have learned to use a tattoo gun. [source] Despite claiming to not be a “drug guy” [source] when offered drugs, Michael does admit to doing cocaine in his younger days [source]. Michael may have specialized in driving getaway. If you drive around with Amanda and hit something she will say sarcastically say “the famous getaway driver Michael Townley”. Michael suffers with depression [source] and has been in therapy for an undisclosed number of years [source] Dr. Friedlander repeatedly says that Michael can’t handle his emotions [source] and frequently labels him a narcissist with sexual hangups. Including sexual immaturity and emotional inadequacy. [source] He also believes Michael needs to find some humility. [source] The dialogue exchanged during Michael’s sessions with Dr. Friedlander changes slightly depending on how you play the game, but the details always remain the same. Michael frequently wakes up screaming and grabs his gun, suggesting he has night terrors. He can also be seen splashing water on his face and telling himself to “keep it together”. He also notably freaks out at the sight of police car [source] these are all clear indicators of emotional/mental trauma [source] possibly alluding to post-traumatic stress disorder. Michael possibly has a phobia of aliens/abduction. Due to a recurrent theme in two drug induced hallucinations. [source 1] [source 2] An analysis of Michael’s hallucinations seem to show that he fears being judged (surrounded by monkeys/probed by aliens) and also fears being controlled, as well as losing control (being abducted/falling). The overall fear of aliens may relate to a fear of the future or change, and possibly a fear of being taken away (arrested/imprisoned etc) or lost, and being left without ultimate control over his life. Michael is neither a psychopath or a sociopath. He repeatedly feels and shows remorse for his actions throughout the game [source] and despite his occasional arrogance he often claims to hate himself. [source 1] [source 2] Upon faking his death for a second time to help Dave Norton, the investigating coroner suggest that Michael is an overweight, alcoholic who smokes a pack of Redwood cigarettes a day, with cigars too. Who favors bleeder burgers and scotch. Trevor claims Michael was “a bit of a pussy” while they ran together in their younger years [source]. This could possibly relate to Michael’s preference to avoiding killing people where possible. Michael apparently intended to die with a gun in his hand before becoming a father and getting married [source]. Michael and Trevor took scores all over America but were unable to make many friends or contacts because of Trevor’s wild behaviour. [source] Michael used the alias “De Santa” while running with Trevor before his entry into witness protection in 2004. [source] Amanda was not initially attracted/interested in Michael and was attracted to an unnamed man who he was with during their first meeting. People believe this to Brad or Lester but Amanda mentions both by name so it was more likely to have been another associate [source]. Michael feels his relationship with Amanda is founded on a spur-of-the-moment decision, that resulted in “terrible life long consequences” [source]. It’s not mentioned if Michael ever intended to have children but he states that he wanted a normal family because of his own parents failings during his childhood. [source] Michael believes his life has been a cycle of chasing things, only to get them and then end up hating them. [source] Michael paid for Amanda to get breast implants so she could make more money stripping and taking out-call work as a prostitute [source] but it was Amanda's mother who acted as her pimp. [source] It’s uncertain if Amanda ever worked for Michael or not, since he claims to have had a prostitution ring of his own at some point in the past. Michael gets very defensive when Trevor refers to Amanda as a prostitute. [source] Suggesting that he is unaware of her past with out-call work. However given his character, it’s more likely that his pride will not allow him to remember/admit to it. Michael and Amanda do not agree on their past. She claims he has changed from the man she met, while he believes she’s still just the same as she always was. [source] Michael also seems detached and distant from nostalgia surrounding their early relationship and seems to not recall fond intimate memories. [source] When questioned by Michael, Amanda does not confirm or deny if she ever had sex with Trevor [source] and it may be alluded to that they had sexual encounters in the mid-west. [source] Tracey says she wishes Trevor was her father [source]. Trevor also questions Jimmy’s paternity [source] and alludes to having considered if Jimmy is his son. [source] Michael was notably not around much for the upbringing of his children. [source] Michael claims to have not enjoyed committing crime and only did so to provide for his family [source]. Which is later contradicted by a conversation with Dr. Friedlander where he claims to want both a life of crime and an ordinary family life. Trevor had intravenous drugs around Jimmy (and Tracey?) when they were children [source]. The dangers associated with which may have been part of what prompted Michael to make the FIB deal. Trevor was considering cutting ties with Michael and taking off with Brad shortly before the cash depot job in Ludendorff went down and Brad was mistakenly killed. [Source] Michael refers to Brad as “the stupid one” and Trevor the “crazy one” in his old crew. [source] Despite holding a grudge against Michael throughout the game for Brad's death, Trevor later admits Brad was a dick. [source] Michael believes his family were normal back in the mid-west and that Los Santos changed them. [source] Although he admits that life in the mid-west was crazy and that he’d screwed up beyond repair and needed a new start. [source] Michael and his family do not speak about why they left the mid-west and changed names. [source] According to Jimmy, Michael still retains his mid-western values. [source] Michael is repeatedly said to be moody and grumpy by his family, friends and associates. Michael considers himself to have been in a "bubble" before the game starts [source]. He also admits to feeling lonely and "stuck in his head". [source] Michael believes in happy endings [source] and karma. [source] Throughout the game it appears that Michael prefers to avoid killing people unnecessarily and has the lowest kill quota in the game. [source] There are frequent references to Michael being lonely and having no friends or social life. [sources] Michael will only sleep for six in-game hours. Michael finds mornings stressful and wakes up with everything “in the wrong place”. [source] Trevor, Franklin, Lester, Dr. Friedlander, and strippers/prostitutes will all refer to Michael as “Mikey” at some point in the game. (Implying it’s his preferred nickname.) However, Amanda will only ever call him Michael - even while drunk. Michael’s hobbies appear to include - daytime drinking. Watching movies. Smoking. Sunbathing, listening to music and daydreaming. Golf and bike rides. One of Michael’s better qualities include being protective of his family and friends, especially Franklin [source] and similarly Lester [source] and Dave [source] He is also very good at calming and reassuring people [source 1] [source 2] and seems to feel a sense of debt towards people who are good to him. However, Michael is not above threatening violence, even those closest to him. [source] It’s regularly mentioned and shown that Michael dislikes -and is possibly scared of [source]- being alone, but this is sometimes contradicted early switch scenes and interactions with his family where he appears to actual desire being alone. [source] Despite being somewhat pig-headed and arrogant at times, if someone calls out his behaviour Michael will apologize and try to correct it. [source 1] [source 2] He’s also fairly intolerant of his own negative traits in others. [source] Michael frequently shortens people’s names or gives them nicknames. Jimmy - Jimbo. Franklin - Frank/Little F. Lester - Lest/Lesty. Dave - Davey. Solomon - Solly. Fabien - Fab etc. Michael appears to believe that he is a cliche and a snob. [source] Although he rarely shows signs of fear, Michael claims to be scared of lots of things. [source] Michael regularly scares off Tracey’s boyfriends [source] and ogles her female friends. [source] Michael does not approve of Jimmy’s use of racist/homophobic language while gaming. [source] Michael wet the bed in 2012 [source] allegedly due to medication [source]. He would also cry, fall asleep during dinner and howl at the moon while medicated. [source] According to Amanda, Michael suffers with premature ejaculation, bad breath and a hairy back. [source] It can be seen in game that Michael does not have hair on his back, which implies either he waxes (hahaha! *insert laughing tears emoji*) or that Amanda is exaggerating or the failure in correlation was an oversight by the game developers. Often, when you bump into a particular NPC on the street, she will respond to Michael with “Mmmm, and you smell good too!” Despite his riches, Michael does not seem to be good with money, and is on the brink of serious financial difficulty when the game starts. He likes to play the stockmarket, and according to Amanda has apparently "pissed away" the family savings through day trading. [source] He is also possibly involved in a stock market scam before we meet him. [source 1] [source 2] Michael is also in debt before the game begins. [source] Further suggesting that he’s not good with money. Michael has paid Dave Norton over a million dollars since their arrangement began. [source] Michael admits to being needy [source]. He also would like absolution from his sins. [source] He also claims to be comfortable with buying affection and having people pretend to love him. [source] Michael is often willing go the extra mile to help people out, even if there is little/no gain for him or if it puts him in direct danger. (This to me, suggests he either likes to return favours and actually do right by people when he can, or that he has a slight saviour complex and subconsciously wants to be seen a someone’s hero.) Michael has learned before the game begins that there is more to life than money and advises Franklin that he doesn’t need beautiful women, fast cars and big houses [source] Michael and Amanda consider their marriage to be a charade [source] and a mistake. [source] They also stopped having sex at some point before we meet them. [source] Michael considers what sex he has had with Amanda to be awkward [source] and believes their marriage exists in name only. [source - this dialog remains active even after completing the main storyline] Michael regularly forgets his wedding anniversary. [source] Michael considers having sex with married women to be a hobby. [source] Michael and Amanda say some genuinely horrible and contemptuous things to each another. [sources 1] [sources 2] [sources 3] [sources 4] Michael can be misogynistic at times. [source] Michael states that he does not care that Amanda finds his dealings with Franklin to be shady [source] implying that he doesn’t reveal details of his criminal activities to her. Michael takes no interest in Amanda’s hobbies. [source] And she takes none in his either. According to Michael there appears to be a pattern with Amanda and Jimmy's behaviour when admitting to wrong doing. [source] Amanda sees a healer who she seems to discuss Michael/their marriage with. [source] Michael threatened to kill Amanda after she threatened to have him arrested, but in a pre-Vangelico score hangout Amanda threatens to put rat poison in Michael's whiskey [source]. This suggests the two of them bandy death threats around regularly. Of course, this doesn't take away from the severity of Michael's threat, but it is certainly an interesting detail in the dynamic of their relationship. Despite his harshness and threats towards Amanda, Michael has never been physically violent with her. [source] Michael notably has sexual issues/insecurities (mainly infidelity) and anger issues, however the issues are not connected and he is not canonically violent towards women. [source 1] [source 2] [source 3] Michael has regularly cheated on Amanda, but was likely caught around 2000/2001. As it is noted that Amanda only began cheating after she found Michael in bed with a stripper and it's later mentioned that she cheated with Jimmy's third grade teacher [source] with whom she remains in regular contact with [source]. This is therefore the earliest point of reference for their infidelity, although it is entirely possible Amanda met the teacher before or after Jimmy was in third grade. Despite frequent references to his infidelity by other characters, Michael actually does not cheat canonically during the duration of the game and will only do so through player choice/instruction. He is in fact actively seen resisting the temptation to cheat in various cut scenes before and after reconciliation with Amanda. [source 1] [source 2] Despite his noted infidelities after leaving the strip club Michael will often sigh and say “if I wasn’t married” implying he has a conscience and does resist cheating when the opportunity arises. [source] He also will say that he didn’t meet his next wife upon exiting. [source] Michael had crabs at least once [source] and has possibly had another STD which Amanda caught [source] although he appears to believe that wasn’t his fault. After her affair with the tennis coach (Kyle) is discovered Amanda will call Michael to ask about what happened to him. [source] Amanda will also threaten to run Michael’s “street skanks” out of town in retaliation, and Michael insists she’s welcome to do so if she is paying for him to cheat under their roof. [source] Jimmy considered Kyle a friend, but his repulsed when Michael tells him what Kyle and Amanda have been up to. [source] It’s implied by Amanda (as well as Jimmy and Tracey) that she has cheated with a string of notable men. Including: a juice server, a dog walker, Jimmy’s third grade teacher. A garbage man, Michael’s procotologist, the character Jesus who can be found on Del Perro Pier and Andy Moon the “hippy bum who thinks the world is ending” who can be found in Vespucci. [source] It’s also heavily implied Amanda had a fling with the pool boy. [source] A website within the game called Psychic Shoutout also implies that Amanda has had further affairs with a fireman, a plumber, a lifeguard, a trucker, the gardener, and a hipster. [source] The fireman may be confirmed by a reference on Life Invader. [source] When faced with a list of his wife’s infidelities, Michael gets very defensive/aggressive and declares that he and Amanda had a open relationship that he’s happy for her, and claims that he cheated a lot too. [source] There is some evidence to suggest that Michael and Amanda did have an open relationship [source]. However it’s clear from Michael’s reaction that he was perhaps not entirely sold on the idea. As he is not comfortable about being reminded of Amanda’s cheating and does not condone it in the house or with familiar men. [source] Because he does not cheat canonically, this also implies he does not frequently participate in the freedoms of their alleged open relationship. Amanda has an account on the in-game hook-up website named HushSmush. [source] Game developers seemed to have a plan to include a profile for Michael (and Trevor) in the game as selfies for the two can be found in the game files [source] but there is no actual trace of their profiles in gameplay. Even post-game, it’s still implied that Amanda may be cheating or conducting other clandestine relationships. [source] Michael also claims to have a rule about no hookers or murder in the house. [source] Michael does not take caution to protect his privacy/identity while cheating. [source] If you visit a prostitute or take a stripper home before visiting Dr. Friedlander, Michael will make excuses for it during therapy. Most commonly he will admit to being lonely [source] (regardless of if Amanda and the kids are still at home or not) and claim that paying for sex didn’t help him feel any better. If you take home more than one woman the night before calling on Friedlander, Michael will confess to this in a different way. [source 1] [source 2] [source 3] If Michael doesn’t have sex with any prostitutes or strippers he will admit in therapy that he’s had thoughts [source] but has been a “good boy”. [source] Michael isn't convinced that the family is in the right place to try living together again after their therapy session but he is persuaded by Amanda and the kids. [source] Amanda repeatedly encourages Michael to make promises and assurances in regard to his fidelity [source]. However he does not ask the same of her in return, and interesting nor does she independently promise to remain faithful to him herself either. Michael claims to just want to be happy. [source] Amanda admits to not having felt love for Michael for a very long time. However, she feels they can make their marriage work, as she believes they are too damaged to have successful relationships with other people. [source] Both Amanda and Trevor will say that they love Michael, but only ever while drunk. Early in the game and before reconciliation Amanda can be found in the bedroom using a sex toy and her dialog will vary, but even post-game she will still remind Michael she needs boundaries or suggest sleeping in separate rooms. [source] Amanda considers Michael a changed man post-game. [source] But also contradicts this during a post-game hangout where she says he’s “still a pig” when he refuses to bank roll her future plans to remodel the house. [source] Post-game, Amanda mentions being on a new prescription [source] and seems to be in regular contact with a pharmacist. [source] New medication could possibly be why she becomes more tolerant of Michael. During her stint on Fame Or Shame, Tracey wrote and performed a song about Michael, called “Daddy Issues”. [source] Post-game Michael really tries to control his anger and interfering in Tracey’s life. [source] Tracey is battling an eating disorder during the game, and Michael will attempt to comfort her if he finds her in the bathroom. Post-game Tracey claims to have been cured. [source] Despite everything, Michael loves living in Los Santos and claims it makes him happy [source]. This is contradicted by him telling Amanda he is unhappy. [source] However his unhappiness is likely more to do with his situation than his location. Michael preaches to Franklin about the ability to move on, and have no regrets. Although he admits this is a piece of advice he cannot put into practice for himself. [source] Post-game Amanda shows a desire to leave Los Santos, but Michael refuses now that he has a career/life in the city. [source] Amanda also says she’d like to get a job teaching yoga or tennis to homeless people in the city, and of course Michael scoffs. [source] Post-game Amanda either wants to buy a beach house, or remodel their current home. [source] Michael admits to being a terrible father and appears to feel bad about it. [source] He also admits to being nostalgic/sentimental [source]. Which possibly explains why he clings to the past so strongly. Both Trevor and Solomon call Michael sentimental. [source 1] [source 2] Both Michael and Amanda are notably afraid of Trevor. [source] Trevor frequently tries to encourage Jimmy to turn against Michael [source] and tries to get him to steal Michael’s bank account and contact information. [source] Michael repeatedly claims to hate himself at various points throughout the game. He also claims to hate Trevor. [source] Trevor’s analysis of Michael’s character includes claiming he has a guard up continually [source] and enjoys arguing and uses it as a form of affection [source] Trevor also claims that Michael is repressed in regard to his criminal personal, that he’s in denial over it [source]. Trevor also calls Michael “emo” and proclaims to know how much upset he is bottling up. [source] Trevor also believes that Michael is delusional and lives his whole life as if he’s in a movie. [source] He also considers Michael to be fake. [source] Michael’s analysis of Trevor’s character seems to be a reflection of himself. [source] As Michael’s marriage is in trouble, he also has no friends, and frequently kills people who “annoy” him. Even though Michael is afraid that Trevor plans to kill him during the raid on the FIB, Michael still deletes Trevor’s files as well as his own. [source] Michael holds tension in his shoulders. [source] Michael appears to believe in God. [source] The De Santas mainly survive on food cooked in the microwave and takeout. [source] Michael does not like roller-coasters. If you take him to the pier and make him ride The Leviathan you can hear him begging to be let off and for the ride to stop. This could possibly be an example of his issues with being in control. According to Amanda, the ocean calms Michael. [source] Michael prefers his meat medium-rare. [source] He also may have a sweet tooth [source] Michael hates paperwork. [source] Michael is the first character to unlock both melee fighting and triathlon activities, which suggests he maintained a good level of physical fitness, despite his somewhat sedentary lifestyle. Michael is a big fan of old movies, and still believes that American can make great movies [source]. Although he is often seen in switch-scenes leaving the cinema and complaining about the movie he’s just watched. [source 1] [source 2] which adheres to his contradictory nature/personality. Michael believes movies aren’t about saying anything new, and should follow the same tried and tested formula. [source] One of Michael’s favourite movies is Rum Runner, and he was a fan of the character Eddie Olsen who was a smuggler/gangster during the prohibition era. [source] [source: Rum Runner] Michael posts comments on the in-game website ClassicVinewood.com under the username "michaelds". [source] Post game Michael may begin using the money from the Union Depository heist to fund Richard Majestic movies. [source] Michael’s favourite radio stations appear to be Los Santos Rock Radio and Radio Mirror Park. He also really gets into dancing to the Lowdown too. Michael appears to start listing to country music after his family leave him, but this is more likely to be because his rental car is tuned into Rebel Radio by default. If left to idle in a car, Michael will dance to the music on the radio. He appears to have three dance speeds depending on the music’s tempo. This behaviour has the most variation out of the three protagonists, which suggests he actually has a lighthearted/fun loving side to his personality. Michael approves of bring dressed in Ponsonby’s clothing. He seems a little more tolerant of wearing outfits from Sub Urban, but will show his major disdain for Binco clothing when you have him try it on. Michael believes attractive people are interesting. [source] Michael possibly likes women with tattoos. [source] Michael likes the smell of peach body oil. [source NSFW] Post-game Michael emails Franklin to tell him that he’s his friend for life. [source] Michael admits to having a man crush on Solomon [source] and the feeling appears to be mutual. Being wanted and considered important by Solomon clearly means a great deal to Michael. [source] Michael also tells Solomon he’s the best thing that ever happened to him. [source] Awww! Post-game Michael claims to not have had a clue what he was doing with the Union Depository heist or since meeting Franklin. [source] This is most likely untrue and more a representation of his self-deprecating/self-mythologizing behaviours. [source] Dr. Friedlander wrote a book about Michael giving him the alias Marky De Santos. [source] The inaccessible door upstairs in Michael’s house is the bathroom Tracey and Jimmy share. You can sometimes hear them taking a shower on the other side of the door. [source - Jimmy] [source - Tracey] From what is said by Tracey and Jimmy, it appears to suggest that the door in Michael and Amanda’s closet may lead to an en-suite bathroom. The bathroom in the De Santa’s house appears to be huge, or potentially leads to another inaccessible room. [source] Post-game, Michael can often be found sitting on the hood of his car near Paleto Bay/Grapeseed and Raton Canyon. Which suggests that he actually liked the areas despite his complaints while staying with Trevor. Michael can sometimes be found riding and red mountain bike around his neighbourhood, Vespucci and Lake Vinewood. Michael's boat is named Jacqueline, although the inspiration for the name is never mentioned to reveal who Jacqueline is/was and it is unknown if the name was his own choice. However, Michael’s neighbour Hayden feels there is a story behind the choice. [source] Michael had five years of sailing lessons. [source] Michael seems to like mimicking people and occasionally puts on different voices. Seen best at the end of Predator and while waiting for the janitor’s car in Cleaning Out The Bureau. Michael had no idea who Lazlow was until crashing Tracey’s Fame or Shame audition. [source] Michael has the lowest overall kill count of all three protagonists [source] this is possibly down to his preference with avoiding killing unless absolutely necessary. However, Michael's kills (or is a party to the death of) at least nine featured characters - Jay Norris, Molly Schulze, Rocco Pelosi and his friend. One alleged/unnamed terrorist in Chumash. Two O'Neil brothers. Stretch (option C). Dr. Friedlander (optional). Devin Weston (option C). Michael is the only one of the three protagonists that can become involved in the Epsilon Program. It’s never explained why Michael feels the need to get involved, but Epsilon beliefs seem to play into Michael’s egotism and this could have been a draw for him. Other reasons for his interest could be anything from boredom/curiosity or perhaps he wanted to be a part of something during his retirement due to his feelings of loneliness. However, the simplest explanation is that he just saw there was a potential for money to be made. Regardless of the way you answer, Michael’s results from the Epsilon test will always remain the same. Stating that he is unfulfilled, depressed, unsuccessful and lacking in purpose. [source]

✖ Michael is significantly shorter than Trevor - False.

There is no significant height difference between Michael, Trevor and Franklin. They are all six feet or slightly over. [source 1] [source 2]

✖ Michael is older than Trevor - False.

They are both the same age. [Source]

✖ Trevor and Michael ran together solidly since the day they met - Uncertain.

Based on things that are mentioned in missions like The Paleto Score and Fame or Shame it's suggested that Trevor and Michael were not always together. For example: Michael says he committed his first score in 1988 and at this point he had known Trevor for three years, however Michael’s score in Carcer City was not Trevor's first score also, nor is Trevor mentioned at all in the story of the Carcer City score, implying that Trevor was not involved in any way. Also, Trevor mentions holding Tracey when she was two years old - not the day she was born, or a few months old, but two years old. This implies that Trevor possibly wasn’t around for Tracey's first years of life.

✖ Michael is (insert astrological sign) - False.

Michael's exact birth date and therefore his astrological sign are never mentioned or noted during gameplay and are therefore unknown/unconfirmed. (I will fight anyone who think he isn’t a Gemini though haha!)

✖ Michael was born and raised in North Yankton/Ludendorff - Uncertain.

It’s never mentioned exactly where Michael was born, or where he grew up. There are references to growing up in the mid-west but I doubt it was “North” Yankton specifically. Also, Michael states that there wasn’t much of a drug trade where he grew up [source] but he admits to selling/running dope in his past, which suggests he must have moved on from his hometown at some point.

✖ Michael, his family and Trevor all lived in Ludendorff - False.

During the audio flashback on the drive to the cemetery in Bury The Hatchet, Michael appears to be telling Amanda that he was hitting a “depot out of town”. Since the cash depot was just inside the town line, that implies that they did not actually live in Ludendorff itself. [source]

✖ Michael and Amanda were high school sweethearts/Michael and Trevor went to school together - False.

I've got no idea where this came from, but it's not remotely true. Amanda is also five years younger than Michael which would make a high school romance pretty questionable. They met in a strip club in 1990/91, and this is repeatedly confirmed throughout the game.

✖ Michael is not Tracey/Jimmy's real father - Uncertain.

There is plenty to suggested that either Jimmy or Tracey are not biologically Michael's, but it currently all remains fan-theory/conjecture. Many people believe that because Tracey appears to be a natural blonde [source] and that Brad was also blonde and was potentially Amanda's first interest [source] that he could be her father. There is also some vague suggestions in the game that Lester is possibly Jimmy's dad. Due to their similar behaviour [source] love of video-games, reclusive lifestyle, apparent ill health/social issues and disdain for Michael. Trevor also questions Jimmy’s paternity [source] and Michael himself appears to doubt fathering Tracey [source] but it's all totally unproven and simple fan conjecture.

✖ Michael committed his first score to pay for Amanda's breast implants - False.

I've never heard this mentioned in the game at all. Michael had not yet met Amanda in 1988 when he committed his first big score, so this cannot be true. Although there’s a good chance he did commit a score to fund it, just not his first.

✖ The evaluation shown upon completion of the game is about Michael, as it's written by Dr. Friedlander - False.

The evaluation is about YOU the player, not Michael at all, but how you've played with him and the other two protags. If you look in the top right hand corner, you will see that your username is shown there.

✖ Michael and his family had other identities before becoming the De Santas because Amanda says “whatever our fake last name is” - Uncertain.

I think Amanda is just throwing things out there when she says that. It makes no sense for them to have had different identities, considering how there’s no further reference to it and the FIB wouldn’t screw around that much. Also, if you look at the family photos around the house, it seems fairly obvious that they went straight to Los Santos. As Tracey appears to be no older than around thirteen/fourteen in this picture taken in what looks like the house kitchen. Also, the picture of Jimmy playing baseball seems to have been taken many years earlier in Mirror Park. [source] Big thanks to everyone who had a hand in helping me put this post together and checking for coherence haha! If any of the source links are incorrect/broken, or are removed from youtube/imgur please let me know. Also feel free to give me a heads up if there's anything you'd like to see included here either in the trivia section or the myths/misconceptions that I may have missed out. I’ve tried to be as thorough as possible, but I’m not a mchine and I’m getting old so things always slip through the net haha!

#Michael De Santa #Grand Theft Auto #Michael Townley #Trevor Philips #Amanda De Santa #GTA V #Jimmy De Santa #Tracey De Santa #Lester Crest #Franklin Clinton #Brad Snider #Michael #meta #reference #character reference #Guide To Michael

496 notes · View notes

jiemba · 6 years

Text

Title Fight Chapter 2 - Feathered Beast (Teen Sanvers AU)

So sorry for the wait on this! Life’s been a bit rough lately but I’ll try to post more regularly.

On AO3 here.

In the worst dreams, she can’t remember what he sounds like. But when she wakes, the memories of him are everywhere, familiar and grating, the way she can never quite get sand out of her bed.

In the early weeks, she’d collapsed at her sister’s feet under the lightning crack of her own wail, finally asking her in hitched wet chokes if people believed in ghosts on Krypton. Kara told her no, that spirits went to live in the stars after, to be closer to Rao - and Alex was left with no explanation for why she felt him everywhere, why she could smell his coffee in the mornings when she first woke up, why she could literally hear him sometimes. No explanation except that she was losing her mind.

The idea of him being among his favourite constellations is a hollow comfort. He’s not there, but this ghost that lives in her house isn’t anything like him. It’s far too dark, brutally gutting, dulling every star in every night. It smothers her and cradles her in one embrace. It is a quiet tyrant. A feathered beast.

She throws herself into the water, the early morning cold sucking all the breath from her body. A crack of broken light spills blood between clouds and over her skin as she paddles her board faster, further, until it’s hard to breathe. She used to think he was here, in this ocean. She had researched how long it would take for a body to decompose in saltwater of this temperature. How far the smaller bones would carry with deep sea currents, how far the larger. She had approximated how much there was left to find, each day another part of him dissolving. His shoes would take the longest. She’d hated him - for tainting the one place she came to think, for staining the water with his own blood so she could never swim in it again. But quickly the morning pilgrimages became obsessive. She could hear his voice, sometimes. A “Nice one, champ” between the collapse of two waves. An “Easy, kiddo” when she lost her footing. A muscle memory fading too fast from her mind, the way a record gets scratches the more it is played. She knows better now. He’s not here. Today, the water tumbles, and the birds roll together in spirals diving for prey, and other surfers call to each other in the lulls, but beneath that, nothing. Her body folds at the waist, her face falling into her hands, a shuddering sob scraping out of her lungs as she keeps herself from crying out for him. Dad. Daddy. The ocean seems to know. It cradles her with an intimate familiarity that she’s known almost as long as she knew him, rocking her as if to soothe a child. When she was small, she would pretend to fall asleep on long car rides, just to feel her father hold her like this. He always carried her to her room, even when he knew she was faking. She doesn’t remember when she got too big for it – only the feeling of loss when he started waking her up. How she longs for that now – for him to wake her up.

She comes home just as Kara’s body slams into a wall. “Alex!” “I’m coming,” she calls, bounding up the stairs and almost slipping over. “ALEX!” “Jesus, Kara, what’s wrong?” In their room, the younger girl is reeling from being wrenched back into her body, her limbs curling inward as she visibly shakes, face red with sweat and tears. “Alex…” “Hey…” she murmurs, rushing to kneel before her little sister, checking her over. There’s a dent in the wall, a not uncommon side effect of Kara’s nightmares while sleep-floating, but she’s unmarked. Just startled. “Hey, it’s OK. You’re alright.” “You w-weren’t here.” “I’m sorry -” “I woke up and you were gone.” “Hey-” “You left me alone.” The girl looks impossibly smaller than her frame, curling tighter into a shaking ball as she hides her face from her sister. “I was just surfing. Just over there, see? You’re not alone. You’re not up in space. You’re here. You’re OK. Just keep breathing.” “A-Alex,” she sobs, over and over, breath coming out in thick chokes as Alex tries to hold her. “Kara, you need to calm down.” She can’t help the edge in her voice – the nerves and frustration. “Please. Mom’s probably sleeping. You have to be quiet, OK?” Kara immediately stiffens at the words, biting her lip to quiet herself into softer whimpers. She wipes her face with her sleeve. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “I know.” “The wall… I’ll get you in trouble.” “It was an accident,” Alex seethes, forcing herself to keep her touch soft, when all she wants is to hit something. She takes a blanket, dabbing the sweat from her sister’s forehead. “Look, let’s get you cleaned up, OK? Come on. Quietly.” The younger girl nods, eyes downcast, letting Alex lead her to the bathroom. While she’s in the shower, Alex braces herself as she treads through the house, still wet herself, salt crisping in her hair, but the rage doesn’t come. The only trace of her mother is in the kitchen. An empty bottle of wine and an unfinished plate of dinner in the fridge. Fifty dollars on the table and a note. Gone to lab. Kara needs some school things. Will be back late. Alex scrunches the note tight in her fist before she can cry over it. This is the sum of their communications, now. This is the best she can hope for, now.

It’s while she’s cooking pancakes - Kara soothed and clean and cautiously petting Streaky at the kitchen table - that the doorbell rings. Alex groans. “Who the hell -” “It’s J’onn!” Kara exclaims, and in a flash she’s already opening the door, scooped up in a hug by a man twice her size, and Alex has to look away. “How are you, girls?” “OK. We’re going school shopping today.” “How about you, Alex?” he presses, a little softer. She barely looks up from the stove. “Fine. I thought we weren’t training til 4.” “I heard distress this morning. I came.” “Kara’s fine. I took care of it.” “She’s not the only one I heard, Alex.” She shoots him a quick glare. “I told you to stay out of my head.” “Sometimes it can’t be helped.” She rubs her bleary eyes with the back of her hand, swallowing a yawn. “Well sit down, since you’re here.” “I can cook, Alex,” he murmurs as he approaches her. “You haven’t slept much, you should rest.” “Yeah well, I have to buy Kara’s things and patch a hole in the wall before my mom notices, so we don’t always get what we want.” “Alex, I’m sorry -” “It’s not your fault, Kara.” J’onn nods slowly, leaving Alex to pace over to Kara, who’s still petting the cat. He reaches a hand out to the creature, smiling slightly at its texture. “Hello, friend.” “Don’t tell my mom I let him in, she’ll freak,” Alex mutters, scooping some more batter into the pan. J’onn nods. “We don’t have to train this afternoon, if you’re too tired.” “I’m fine.” “Eliza says it’s a good outlet for her anger.” “God, shut up, Kara.” “Alex, don’t talk to your sister like that.” “Don’t talk to me like you’re my dad,” she spits back, tears burning in her eyes, and for a moment it all stops. J’onn waits for the thoughts in her mind to quiet before he approaches her, sighing as he leans against the fridge. “Alex, I know I can never replace him in any way. And I don’t want to. But I made your father a promise -” “I know,” she interrupts. A tear slips down her cheek, but her hand comes to smear it with a speed that almost rivals Kara’s. “I’m still trying to find out what I can at the DEO. As soon as I know where his body lies, I will bring him home to you. I promise.” “You’ve been saying that for months. There’s nothing more to know.” Her whole body shivers. She grasps the edge of the countertop with both hands, closing her eyes. “There’s nothing.” A strong hand comes to grasp her shoulder, and she lets him pull her close, desperately pushing from her mind the memory of the last man who held her with this kind of care. “I also lost my father, at Mars’ end,” he murmurs into her hair. “I know.” She sniffles into his shirt. “Does it go away?” “It eases.”

It occurs to Alex then, that all three of them are fatherless - how grief had spared none of them, swiping at family trees and breaking branches. She uncurls herself from J’onn’s body, wiping her face as she turns to Kara. “I’ll call Mr and Mrs Li to see if you can hang out with Kenny while we’re training.” “I want J’onn to teach me to box too,” Kara grumbles in exasperation. Alex scoffs. “You’d kill someone.” J’onn shoots her a look. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she relents, swallowing guilt at the sight of her sister timidly withdrawing her hands from the cat. “Just…you know what Dad said. Showing yourself just puts you at risk. Us too.” And you already lost me my Dad. “Alex,” J’onn warns her, clearly having heard. “Go lie down for a moment. I’ll finish breakfast and drive you both to get what you need before training.” She doesn’t bother replying – just pushes past him to curl into a ball on the couch, digging into her pocket for her mp3 player and blasting Offspring’s ‘Gone Away’ as loud as she can bear it. Loud enough for J’onn to hear it in his own mind, to sense how he makes her feel pain and need all at once.

Of all the things on Maggie’s to-do list before school starts, finding a job ranks towards the top. It’s crucial that she makes as little a dent in her Tia’s life as possible – that she shrinks herself to the point of being barely there, lest she be too outspoken, too daring, too young ever again. Back home, she’d babysit for the neighbours’ kids and feed their chickens before school - until it happened. Later, the best she could do was stack boxes on weekends at her Tia’s work, just cash in hand - until the other thing happened. At least here, no one knows. There are more than a handful of stores. And a lot of people look like her, more than she’s ever seen. The mall near the apartment has a movie theatre, and a food court, and two whole floors of stores, and it takes hours to go door to door. She tells the bookstore about how she helped at her Aunt’s job. Tells the pet store about Hugo and Dante. Tells the taqueria that her Abuelitas had her helping in the family Cinco de Mayo feasts since she was five. She tells them all she’ll do any job. That she’s a good girl, who speaks good Spanish (not the best Spanish), and doesn’t mind how early she has to wake up or how dirty her hands get, and just wants the chance to make a few dollars to help her family. She tells none of them about her injury. By mid-afternoon, the new phone number scrawled on the inside of her arm has blurred into a vague smudge, but her hand remembers how to write it on forms without thinking. There’s only one place to go after that, a note from her Tia guiding her down a track of back alleys and over a bridge to a warehouse devoid of any colour, save for a weather-worn sign across the front wall declaring it a fighters’ gym, sun flaring on the road under her feet. It’s ten degrees hotter inside – so many men swinging and jumping rope and grunting that the gym itself feels like a breathing thing, a Public Enemy soundtrack seated under a constant pattering of thuds and clangs and sounds that would be groans of pain if they weren’t quite so breathless. It’s a dodge between bodies to get to the back office, but she immediately understands why he’s tucked away in there, cocooned from the disciplined chaos outside. “Can I help you?” he asks her as he picks videos from a bookcase, voice raspy like it’s spent years shouting over noise like this. “I…” she starts, before she knows what to say. “My aunt called, she said you had a youth program? She told me to stop by.” He peers at her over his glasses. “Margarita, right?” It’s the first time a stranger’s ever pronounced her name correctly, but she still shakes her head. “Just Maggie.” “Hector. Would’ve noticed you in here before. We don’t get a lot of girls.” He squints at a tape, rubbing his eyes before he hands it to her. “What year does that say?” “1985.” “Damn it,” he grumbles, setting it aside. “You box, Maggie?” “I can fight.” “Not what I asked.” Maggie digs her hands into the pockets of her shorts, eyes finding the floor. “We have strict rules here,” Hector tells her. “Fighting stays in the gym. I don’t want to hear about you smacking some poor kid in math class.” “It’s not like that,” Maggie insists. “I don’t do that stuff, it’s just…” “Just what?” he mutters, voice clipped. She tries to steady herself as she looks him over, something about the shape of his eyes reminding him of a Tio back home. “I just moved here from Nebraska,” she admits. “The kids there…they didn’t like me. And… I dunno, Tia thinks this’ll be good for me, I guess. ” The unsaid things hang suspended, but he nods like he doesn’t need to hear them. “We have classes through the week, and youth-only open training is on Tuesdays and Thursdays 4-7. Any other time you need to drop in to lose your cool, do your homework, whatever, you just drop in. Nobody’ll bother you.” “I…” she starts, trying to let the too warm air settle in her chest, the heat filtering into her cheeks anyway. “Lo siento, no tengo mucho dinero.” “That’s fine, mija.” “I can work for you if you need. I can clean the gym for you, or help you sort through your office, or -” “No hay necesidad. You just focus on school. And our youth classes are sliding scale.” “What’s that mean?” “Just pay what you can. If it’s a dollar, it’s a dollar. Just show up. I’d rather you kids be here than off doing drugs someplace. I just need your parents to sign these before you start,” he explains, handing her a waiver. She baulks a little. “Vivo con mi Tia. Eso esta bien?” He gives her a sad smile, his eyes wrinkling around the edges. “No problem.” Maggie exhales slowly, unable to lift her eyes to his as she accepts the paper, her father’s pride still etched in her bones. He takes off his glasses, looks her over. “How old are you?” “Fifteen.” “You look younger.” She squirms a little. “Just small, I guess.” He looks past her shoulder, letting out a whistle too loud for the room. “Hey, Hank!” Behind her, Maggie sees a man tilt his head but not his body, eyes fixed on a fight between two boys of about 17. She’s never seen someone command so much space by doing nothing at all, arms crossed tight over his chest, standing tall like a tree that doesn’t bend. “Yeah?” “Your girl’s 15, right?” That has his attention, and as soon as his eyes find Maggie, he’s coming her way. “You here to train?” “Yeah,” she replies. “You have other girls here?” “Your age? Just the one.” He extends a hand, and it engulfs hers. “Hank Henshaw.” “Maggie Rodas.” It’s hard to tell what to make of his smile – tight, but warm, strictly polite but reserved like he’s trying to figure her out. “I’ve been training Alex for a couple months, but all the boys here are too big or young for her to spar with. She could use a partner, if you’re up for it.” “Yeah, sure,” Maggie lets out, and it’s all moving faster than she expected, but in the corner of her eye, there’s a flash of reddish-brown hair coming from the water station. A girl in running shorts and a tank top, a little tall for her age, is setting her bottle on a windowsill, shaking herself out in front of a mirror before lifting her fists to fight herself, shadowboxing with the flow of someone who breathes like water, and instantly, Maggie knows she’s seen her before. She looks different on land. Harder. Tired, but pushing, like she’s running from her own shadow, scrambling to exorcise something from under her own skin, and again Maggie feels the sensation that she’s not supposed to be watching her, yet the grace of her movement is hard to pull away from. “Danvers,” Hank calls out, and the girl’s tugged from her battle, her pale skin gently flushed as she jogs over. “This is Maggie Rodas. She’s joining the gym.” “I’m down to train with you, if you want,” Maggie tells her. “Hank said you need a partner.” The girl nods, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “Yeah. I’m hoping to start sparring in local club comps by in the next couple months. How long have you been boxing?” “Well, technically I’ve never boxed…” “Great,” the girl mutters, not trying to hide that she’s unimpressed, and Maggie feels a competitive edge twist in her gut. “But I can fight.” “Oh can you?” she scoffs, raising her eyebrows. Maggie tilts her head, smirking a little. “Life experience.” It seems like Alex doesn’t know how to take that. Maggie watches her glance at Hank, who nods almost imperceptibly. The girl’s shoulders lose some of their tension. “Look, I grew up watching matches on TV with my dad,” Maggie continues. “I know what makes a good fighter. It’s just that my parents wouldn’t let me learn, so I never got taught.” “What, and they just changed their minds?” They changed their minds about a lot of things, she thinks to herself, swallowing hard, and beside her Hank shifts slightly on his feet. “Something like that,” she says. Hank tilts his head to face Alex. “I know she’s a little small for you -” “A little,” the girl teases lightly, making Maggie scoff and shake her head. “But if you plan to keep up your training diet it may not matter so much.” “Hey, I don’t mind putting on a little weight,” Maggie teases back, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I’m new in town, Danvers – know any good burger places?” The glare the girl shoots her is hard as a punch, and Maggie almost laughs out loud. “The point is,” Hank interrupts, “Alex, this would be good for your training. It’s about time you fought someone closer to who you’ll be up against.” Almost mirroring Hank’s posture, the girl stands and breathes for a moment before lifting her eyes to Maggie’s. “I prefer to train alone. And hard. Think you can keep up?” “Played soccer for six years. Bet I could beat you in shuttle runs.” The corner of Alex’s mouth cocks up a little. “That a challenge?” “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?” Maggie quips, already walking past her to the doors.

They pound the alley pavement like they want to see it bleed. Alex’s legs are longer, but she’s pushing harder than she’s had to in a while, running back and forth between dumpsters until her heart pumps acid, stomach clenched tight as a fist. She’ll give it to her – this girl is fast – and when Alex sees her flick her head back, dimples flashing as she smiles, she knows the game is up. “Fine,” she pants, slowing to a jog. “What was that?” the girl coaxes, a breathless laugh escaping her as she steadies. “We can train together.” “Knew you’d come around, Danvers.” Alex watches her tie up her hair in one swift movement, wiping the light sheen of sweat shining over her throat. The sun suddenly seems excessively hot. The girl seems to notice the gaze, her flick of a glance sending a gentle flush over Alex’s skin with an expression that is half question, half answer. “Thursday?” Alex swallows, nods. “Thursday.” The girl smiles at the ground and shakes her head a little, and Alex instantly gets the sense that she never had a chance. “I should get back to Hank.” “Sure.” “I’ll see you,” she mutters, lifting a hand to shield her face from the sun as she heads back in. “Oh Danvers?” “Yeah?” “That running got me all sweaty. Think I might go get some ice cream.” “Yeah you do that, Rodas.” “Or maybe a milkshake…” “Asshole.” The girl lets out a full laugh, still watching Alex as she begins to walk backwards down the alley before she turns away. “See you round, Danvers.” Alex watches her jog all the way to the corner and disappear, but she doesn’t know why.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think so far : )

Spanish translations (apologies for any mistakes):

Lo siento, no tengo mucho dinero - I'm sorry, I don't have much money No hay necesidad - There's no need Vivo con mi Tia. Eso esta bien? - I live with my aunt. Is that OK?

#sanvers #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #sanvers fanfic #high school AU

24 notes · View notes

unknownentery · 3 years

Text

Youkai Village Chapter 1: Meeting a Fox Spirit

I was walking deep in a forest. There were no path or trail markers. No one has ever ventured into this forest or at least this deep. This forest is known to be huge, It has been estimated to take 14 hours to walk though it. Yet no one has done anything with this forest. No nature center, no trails, nothing. I just want to get away from people so I figure I venture into this forest. Maybe I might find something fascinating. I couldn’t hear the sounds of people. I was that deep in. I felt a gentle breeze hit my face as leaves and grass shuffled by the wind. It felt very refreshing. I felt great being away from everyone. It’s like my burdens have finally left me. I entered the forest at 6 am and it is now 1 pm. I found some interesting things. I found some fallen trees, some areas with no trees, some lakes, and some rivers. I was starting to get the idea of turning around. But I started noticing some odd things. There were some signs that something had been here. I noticed that some trees were chopped down and that there appeared to be some human shaped footprints. That alone was strange since a human would have to take 7 hours to get here. But some of these footprints appeared to be too big for a human. There even appeared to be some trails here. I also couldn't help but think I was hearing some very faint voices in the distance. There were too many trees near me to see much in front of me. It was so faint and quiet I couldn’t tell if it was real or just my mind imagining things. I was intrigued to investigate to see what I may find. Then I heard something. It sounds like something moving through the air fast behind me. However, before I got a change to turn around, I was suddenly being grabbed. I started to freak out. I was about to scream, but my mouth was covered by a hand. I was greeted with a weird smell. It wasn’t awful, but it definitely got my attention. I tried so hard to break out of the person's arm. However, I was barely able to make a small budge. This was with all my strength. Finally I heard the person speak. It was a female voice, and she was laughing. “Calm down human, calm down. I won’t kill you, but you will be coming with me” she said. I tried to get her to budge with my strength, but I had less luck than before. “You can’t resist humans, I am much stronger than you,” she said. “What does she want me with? And why is she calling me human?” I thought to myself. Then the woman sighed. “You know I don’t think this will work out like this. So I will release you, but don’t attempt to run away. I will catch you very quickly” she said. She then released me. I decided not to run away and I turned to look at her. I was greeted with the sight of a beautiful woman. She had a very thin body with long blonde hair. She also looked to be in her 20s. Her breasts were quite big as well. However, any sense of amazement was replaced with fear when I noticed she had ears and the tail of a fox. I was scared, and she knew it. “That’s right human, I am a fox spirit. Now I won’t scream if I were you. No human would hear you, and you will only attract youkai who would want to kill you” she said with a dreadful smile on her face. Then she changed her tone a little. “However, you will be coming with me. I can’t let you escape and tell other humans about me” she said enthusiastically. I didn’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to kill me, but she doesn’t want me to escape. Is she going to keep me forever or does she have something planned for me? I heard about fox spirits from asian mythology, but I never thought they were real. All these things raced through my mind. I was conflicted between rather this is an act of cruelty or kindness considering what I know about fox spirits. However, before I could decide rather I should stay or run, the fox spirit took my hand as she started casually walking. I was forced to walk as she effectively started lightly pulling me. I didn’t try to fight me. I was shaking in fear, and again she noticed. She turned to look at me, and she pulled me closer. “Relax if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so already. In fact, we haven’t introduced each other. My name is Tamamo Mana. Don’t worry , I am not the so-called wicked Tamamo No Mae that you humans hate if you're wondering. My mother named me after the great fox sorceries due to my amazing skills with magic” Tamamo explained. “So what is your name?” she asked. I was still scared to talk, but I finally said “My name is Zack” as she looked at me. “That’s an interesting human name” she said as she pulled me closer and even leaned against me to my surprise. It’s like now she wants to be very nice. She at least appeared to not have any hostile intentions. I was able to calm down slightly. The trees that were somewhat obstructing me from seeing far were now clearing up. Then I greeted with the sight of a bunch of houses made out of wood. The voices I were hearing were now becoming more clear. I realized that this wasn’t just one lonely fox spirit living out here all by herself. Instead it was some sort of village. I realized that these were the back ends of a house. We were getting closer to one of them. “This is where I live,” she explained. “What is this?” I asked. She looked at me. “This is a youkai village, a place hidden from humans where many youkai live in secret. You are now one of the few humans who know about this secret” she said. We walked towards a backdoor in the backyard of a house. Tamamo reached for the door handle. The door creaked as Tamamo opened it. I was greeted with the same smell that Tamamo had but more noticeable. She walked me into the house. It was very small, about the size of a hotel room. As I stared longer into the room, the more I noticed how surprisingly modern the place was despite being in the middle of nowhere. There were TV’s, bathrooms, computers, fans, and surprisingly video games. However, there were some clear limitations to what I found in the room. One that I noticed was absent was an electric oven. There was technically one, but it was powered by wood and charcoal. Another thing was that the computers and game system was nothing I had seen before. It appeared to be its own thing. “Welcome to your new home,” Tamamo said enthusiastically. I looked at Tamamo, I realized that I might be staying here for a long time. Tamamo just gave me a smile. It's like now she really wants to be nice after forcing me to come here and telling me that I’m stuck here forever. She at least was doing a good job at being nice. But this only made me wonder even more what she really does want to do with me. I started to wander around as Tamamo let go of my hand. I looked at everything in the house in greater detail. I even looked at one of the games for the game system. It revealed that graphics were not as good as a modern game. It was more on par with the Nintendo 64 just with better textures. I looked at Tamamo as she just stood there amused by my curiosity. She had a smile on her face. “If that raises your curiosity, then you will be amazed with the things I will show you,” Tamamo said. Tamamo walked over to an oven. She lifted one of her hands followed by her index finger. Then after a few seconds, a little piece of flame came out of her fingers. I realized she was casting magic. She then pointed her finger into the oven and shot it right out into it. The oven quickly lit up. That was amazing to see. “That was fox spirit magic right there. Although, that’s nothing compared to my overall power” Tamamo said. Tamamo walked over to a table next to a window. She then pulled out a chair. “Why don’t you join me?” she said. I sat down at the table with Tamamo sitting on the other end. She just looked at me, smiling with her mouth open. I took notice of her sharp teeth, as well as her purple eyes. “What do you think of this, so far?” she asked. That was a very tricky question. I’m mean, what was I supposed to answer? I thought about it and said “It’s interesting that this all exists. I never would have believed this ever existed. But I haven’t really seen any other youkai outside of yourself” I knew there had to be some around since I heard noises outside, but I haven’t really seen any other’s myself. However, Tamamo giggled. She reached over to the window curtains and opened them. “There you go,” she said. I gazed out the window as I saw many youkai passing the house. The sight was intimating, but also kind of amazing. As I looked at every youkai that passed the house, Tamamo told me what youkai race they were “That's a kappa, and that’s a tanuki. That female over there is a crow tengu, and he is an oni” I don’t know what will happen to me, but I do know that my life has already changed. There is just no going back after seeing all of this. Tamamo giggled at my curiosity again. I continued to look out the window, just staring at all the youkai. Not long after, I heard the sounds of metal clashing with each other. I looked over as I noticed Tamamo was getting the chicken she was cooking out of the oven. She brought it to the table. She sat down and cut the chicken into pieces. She then passed me a plate of some. “Here you go, enjoy!” she said. I took a bit out of the chicken. It was very good, possibly better than anything I have ever eaten. The food was gone before I knew it. It must have been so good that I ate it very fast. Then Tamamo stood up and walked over to me. She then grabbed me by the arm as she walked me over to her bed. She then layed down and had me do the same. “You know, I never got a chance to meet a human before,” she said. She got closer and huddled with me. Her body was very warm. She also wrapped her tail around me. Her tail gave off a lot of heat. I could survive in the winter with just her tail. It wasn’t screaming hot, but hot enough to make me feel soft. Tamamo then put her arms around me. “You know, we had such a violated history between our kinds, but you and I are just being open with each other” she said. “Violate history?” I asked as I didn’t quite know what she meant. Then Tamamo sighed. “I suppose It’s time I explain what’s going to happen and why,” Tamamo said. I looked at her with a very concerned expression. Tamamo also had a nervous look on her face. “I’m going to tell you something that the majority of humans never knew. We are not that different from each other” she explained. “But I don’t can’t use magic like you,” I said. Then Tamamo couldn’t help but smile a little. “That’s what I was about to get too. You see, you can learn to use magic, It’s just nearly impossible for you to learn it without any assistant. Even then It’s difficult for a human to achieve the same level of magic as youkai. Very few humans become as powerful as youkai. Some of those people who did became youkai simpithers, and with help from youkai, they became youkai themselves” She explained. “Who were those people?” I asked. “Youkai hunters, these are groups of humans who hunted us. They seek us out and kill us. A long time ago, all youkai lived in asia. But hunting became rampant that we decided to start moving to other parts of the world in hopes that they won’t find us here. It worked. They are still around, but they appear to only operate in asia. They probably think we are on the verge of extinction. However, they might be catching on. We had a few isolated incidents of encounters” Tamamo explained. I looked at her and she had this sad expression on her face. “However, in order to keep our existence hidden, we have to kill any humans that come near our village” Tamamo said grimly. My heart jumped and I started shaking hard. Is all of this about to end like this. “But there is an alternative,” Tamamo said. I was able to stop shaking a little when she said that. “You could become a youkai like me,” Tamamo said. My heart felt like it just stopped by that sentence. She wants me to give up my humanity and become a youkai. Is that what she wanted from me? But what choice do I really have? “The thing is that I mention that a few high spiritual power humans became youkai’s. That was done with a transformation spell. But the spell only seems to work on high spiritual humans. When used on humans with little to no spiritual powers. It doesn’t work. It causes extreme pain usually followed by death. It’s known that 40 humans had the spell used on them. 4 of them were humans with high spiritual powers, all 4 of them survived. The remaining 36 were humans with little to spiritual powers. Only 2 of them were transformed. The other 34 died” Tamamo explained. That was grim and frightening. I realized I was going to die. I started shaking and crying. “Don’t cry, there is a bright side to this,” she said. I managed to stop tearing for a few seconds. “I created a new spell, It’s a modification of the old spell. It allows me to successfully transform you and any other human into a youkai. You will not die” Tamamo explained. I was able to stop crying as I hugged her. It for some reason made me feel better. Then Tamamo asked me “So Zack, Do you want to become a youkai?”

Thanks to Savage Nami for the ASMR series

https://youtu.be/FWc4WHo1j5M

1/15/21 Update: Nayru ASMR did her own take on the series

https://youtu.be/3zObXFb1WI4

#kitsune #Youkai #yokai #transformation #tg #tf #romance #fantasy #fox girl #fox spirits

1 note · View note

amorremanet · 7 years

Note

For the autistic hcs, could you do 2, 5, and 11 for Pidge?

omg thank you, nonny, now i feel so much better about how i also thought that the meme involved asking about specific characters when, upon a reread, it just says, “send a fandom” ♡

2. Stimming headcanons?

“Pidge, stop bouncing your leg during a simulator!” / “I’m not bouncing my leg, Lance, wth???”

Katie Holt, before she cut her hair and started calling herself Pidge, used to stim a lot by playing with her hair. She’d have to tie it back while trying to do most things that required close attention, because it was easy for her to get distracted from them by playing with her hair

(or alternately, it was easy to get frustrated, need to stim, and get her hair covered in coolant or something, and then feel disgusting and unable to stim, but oh god, she can’t go take a shower until she’s done doing the thing, that’s not how this is supposed to work, but she can’t focus on doing the thing because stimming isn’t even an option, and oh god, what do????)

She thought cutting her hair was going to kill her a little bit inside, but now she has a new hair stim that actually works a lot better. Namely: flipping it.

“Pidge, come on! You’re bouncing your leg during the simulator again! It’s making me nervous!!” / “??? Lance, what the heck is Hunk talking about” / “He’s talking about stop bouncing your stupid leg, Pidge!” / “I am NOT bouncing my leg!!!”

Pidge doesn’t want you touching her, but also she wants a lot of physical affection and to be compressed in a hug??? About the only people currently allowed to hug her are Shiro and Hunk (and Matt would be on the list if he were actually around to hug her, but since he isn’t?)

Most of the time, when Pidge wants a hug, she goes and chills with Green instead, because: 1. it’s often hard for her to ask other people for a hug, and 2. maybe lying on top of your Lion’s head and awkwardly trying to embrace her is not quite what she’s after, but it’s better than being hugged by people who don’t know how to do it right. Also, Green just gets her.

“oh my god — Pidge! Again with the leg!!” / “I don’t know what you guys are talking about!!? I do NOT bounce my leg!”

“Lance has a point okay, you’re like really bouncing your leg today, is everything okay, man”

“HUNK SO HELP ME I WILL TURN THIS SIMULATOR AROUND”

“YOU CAN’T TURN IT AROUND LANCE, YOU CAN BARELY FLY IT IN THE FIRST PLACE”

“WELL MAYBE I COULD FLY IT IF YOU WOULD STOP [string of aggravated noises because Lance can’t focus and is kind of forgetting how to make words do the thing] BOUNCING YOUR [string of half-uttered Spanish curses, and more aggravated noises, because Lance really wants to cuss right now (and knows that he can get away with it because Iverson doesn’t know a lick of Spanish), but at the moment, Lance can’t focus enough to get any of the words out of his mouth] FREAKING LEG!!”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE”

“[sighs dramatically. groans.] OH MY FUC— HOW DOES, ‘STOP BOUNCING YOUR [aggravated noises] LEG, IT’S DISTRACTING ME AND MAKING HUNK ANXIOUS’ NOT MAKE ANY [aggravated noises] SENSE TO YOU, PIDGE, AREN’T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE A GENIUS”

“I AM *NOT* BOUNCING MY LEG!!!”

“guys can we stop yelling please i’m really anxious now and lance is flying really bad today oh my god i’m gonna throw up D:”

One stim thing that Pidge legitimately doesn’t understand at all is fidget spinners. She’s taken several of them apart to try and figure out what it is that makes them so appealing to other people, and she still has no idea.

“Pidge, uh? You okay?” / “Of course I’m okay, Hunk. Why wouldn’t I be.”

“Okay, uh. I was just asking because you haven’t been bouncing your leg in the simulator for a couple weeks? Or in class? Or at lunch, when you like actually show up to lunch?”

“…So? Doesn’t that make it better for you and Lance? And get me out of being yelled at for it?”

“Well, yeah, kinda? But it’s also making you kinda look like you always want to puke, and I would know?? And I mean, Lance is a bit much sometimes, but he only wants us to do well—”

“He only wants himself to do well.”

“I mean, he wants that too, but… He really doesn’t mean to be quite as much of a jerk about things? He just…… doesn’t? Really?? Think about stuff? Before he says it? Or does it? Like, ever??? But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about the team doing well, or about you???”

“……Look, I really didn’t notice that I was bouncing my leg, okay. But since I apparently am, and since apparently, it’s tanking our performance almost as much as Lance’s creative approach to flying, it’s just — whatever. I’m trying to make it stop. For everybody. Right?”

“But it might not actually be as helpful as you and Lance think? Like, if it puts you on edge to not be doing it? That can throw you off your game too, right? And I just feel like there could maybe be a better compromise here for all of us if we work together on it, maybe??”

“……*sighs* I have work to do, Hunk. Just…… Tell Lance he doesn’t have to worry about my stupid leg, okay. *exits to go sit on the roof with her equipment where she can just not be bothered or forced to talk about things, with people*”

“Some advanced alien civilization this turned out to be, these people don’t even have clicky pens” — Pidge, about most of the aliens she meets, at one point or another.

But the Olkari have clicky pens made out of tree parts and magitek, which is endlessly fascinating to Pidge because???? How do you make them work and make them so satisfying to click without plastic, omg??

A lot of this leg-bouncing thing would probably have been a bit ameliorated if Lance and Pidge actually knew that they are autistic (Pidge) and have ADHD (both of them), and could have a slightly easier time of putting words on their specific needs with each other…… but sadly, neither of them did. But they’re working on it.

Granted, they are working on it very slowly because both of them are stubborn as shit, and even now that they like each other, they end up needing a lot of space from each other sometimes for a lot of reasons (many of which somehow involve the theme of, “Dealing with each other can easily get very overwhelming for them”).

But…… still. They’re working on it. Just…… give them time.

And maybe help them hook up their Mercury Gameflux already because no seriously, that would do wonders for both of them, and for their relationship (*gestures at how they worked really, really well together on collaborating to fish up enough money to buy the thing*)

otoh, you would probably also need to pull both of them out of hyperfocusing as Hell on their game, and that could get Messy very quickly, so maybe they should try to find a different way to connect with each other better and get on each other’s level better, outside of video games and Voltron

5. hated foods & textures?

FOOD GOO IS SENSORY HELL, WE DO NOT SPEAK OF IT

(or at least we speak of it as little as possible, because Pidge does realize that it’s something of an Altean delicacy and that Hunk is fond of it, at least, so it’s not like she can completely avoid any and all discussion of food goo for the rest of her time with Team Voltron or her time in space, but she would personally just prefer it if she didn’t have to talk about food goo because no seriously it is sensory Hell, you have no idea, or maybe you do, Pidge wouldn’t want to speak over you if you do, but also on the other hand……… etc.)

Why does Pidge hate peanuts so much? because the texture is so terrible, oh god why, they feel so slimy, this is disgusting

Pidge doesn’t know how she feels about the fact that Alteans apparently don’t have flour, but she kind of appreciates the fact that the lack of it means she can be in the kitchen without the constant temptation to just put her hand in the flour

11. how do they prefer to communicate? are they non verbal/have periods of being non verbal? do they use sign language? do they talk? do they prefer text, etc?

If you ask Pidge, the biggest communication issue she has is that sometimes, she loses all sense of how loud or soft her voice is. If you ask most people, that’s probably accurate.

It is not, however, the full truth, because oh man, Pidge has trouble with staying verbal. Sure, sometimes she is hyper-verbal, but…… other times, she really isn’t.

She, however, would not describe this as, “being non-verbal.”

She would call it, “Sometimes, I just forget how to make words do the thing. Y’know? The thing where they come out in sentences and make sense and, like? Connect to concepts and images so people know what I am saying?”

“……That’s called, ‘being non-verbal,’ Pidge.”

“No, it’s not, Keith.”

“Uh, YEAH, it is.”

“Well, obviously, it isn’t, because I can still use words, just not exactly well or entirely correctly!”

“[aggravated noises because Pidge having trouble with accepting that sometimes, she is non-verbal? makes it harder for Keith to stay verbal] Shiro! Tell Pidge that it’s okay to be non-verbal sometimes and she doesn’t have to pretend like she isn’t!!”

“………[well, okay, Keith, strictly speaking? putting your big brother on the spot like this makes it harder for him to be verbal, so this conversation is going to get nowhere slowly and??? Shiro wants to have a motivational speech here for you and Pidge?? Or something? But you put him on the spot and he’s having trouble pulling up the social scripts he needs right now, so you might have to wait a while???]”

“……There, see, Pidge: Shiro agrees with me.”

“……………????!!???!!?!???!??!?!?! *will admit that this reaction is a non-verbal one… maybe eventually someday possibly. but definitely not right now. right now, she’s going to just go hang with Green and probably grumble at Green a lot about how Keith is being stupid and frustrating.*”

On another note entirely: who learned how to be sarcastic as a defense mechanism because she got tired of people making fun of her for being so earnest about things and using it against her when she missed their sarcasm or couldn’t tell when they were lying to her, and now has times when she can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not because she may or may not have used this defense mechanism so much that she skewed her own internal gauge of her own feelings (which was already kind of off-kilter to begin with)?

……yeah, that person would be Pidge.

9 notes · View notes