piggies in the sky

Pidge Headcanon

I really never understood why Pidge picked her name to be ‘Pidge’ when she went undercover in the Garrison, because who even THINKS of a name like that?  Time for my mind to wander into the world of possibilities and somehow I came up with this idea.

I think Pidge was actually a nickname Matt gave her when she was little.  Imagine for a moment Matt playing with Pidge on a swing set, or a trampoline, giving her piggy back rides because she likes to be high up in the sky, and just offhandedly Matt calls her pigeon.  It doesn’t mean anything at the time, but later it starts to stick, and Matt just starts calling his little sister Pigeon for the heck of it, and maybe Mr. and Mrs. Holt did it too when they couldn’t articulate themselves properly.

So when Matt and Mr. Holt went missing and Pidge had to come up with an alias to infiltrate the Garrison, she changes up the nickname Matt gave her to suit her needs.  She’s still Matt’s Pigeon and her parents’ Katie, but she needed to become Pidge Gunderson to accomplish her goals.

I kind of got inspiration for this from @savajack and since I am doing some other drabble requests tonight, might as well go through with this one. You can personally thank the fact we were talking about lowkey ships and her portrayal of Piggy (Charles) in her multi-chap. So yeah, this is all on her.

Piggy/Simon drabble because I’ve already jumped off the edge.

The sun swelled, carrying itself like a balloon in the midst of a cotton-patched sky. 

Piggy was trying not to stare – his specs were dirty and he could barely see through one of them. It had a few days since Jack shattered his glasses and he was adjusting. However, it was difficult to take a look at the sun and other stars when all you could see is fragments. Piggy took off his specs and tried to clean them with his shirt, but it had become a habit. The smudges would remain.

There was a discomfort that Piggy felt in his right shoulder. Piggy wasn’t too fragile to the heat, like a certain someone he preferred not to think about, but he still burned. He sometimes liked to imagine he was Ralph, who just took the heat and only got tan. Still, whatever patches of red Piggy could find on his arms or legs, they would just fade back to white eventually. 

He sighed, pressing his thumb against his leg and seeing the imprint of an oval just to shift back to pink.

Piggy felt a disturbance near him and he didn’t want to turn to see the hunters, probably spotting him along the beach and wanting to play their games with him. He moved his head over his shoulder and felt a singe of relief as Simon came out from the trees. The smaller boy must have twisted his foot over a branch and slipped – otherwise he’d be too quiet for Piggy to hear. 

Regardless, Simon found Piggy and walked over to his side of the beach. There were pieces of creepers stuck to his feet, and Piggy didn’t question it – Simon always looked like he could carry a patch of wildflowers.

Simon sat next to Piggy and the fat boy said nothing. Piggy wasn’t sure how to feel about Simon. He knew that Ralph spoke of him more than once, but Piggy was baffled by him. There was a subtlety about him that created a tension that Piggy didn’t care for. Piggy wanted to remain with as little worries in his head as possible, but Simon looked like the kind of person that could spur a deep conversation just by looking at you.

“Hullo, Piggy.” 

Light words came from Simon’s bitten lips and Piggy blinked towards him. He wondered if anyone ever thought about asking him for his first name, but that ship had sailed days ago. It didn’t help that Simon was terribly close to him, shoulders almost pressed together.

“Um, hullo.” Piggy tried to come across polite, like the adults taught him to. He focused his attention on the waves that crept up the shoreline, teasing little things.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked, and Piggy felt a bit nauseous. He wasn’t doing anything since Ralph had disappeared to look for fruit for the two of them, and the hunters, well. They were doing what they always had done.

“Jus’ sitting. Waiting for Ralph.” Piggy’s answers were brief – he didn’t want to talk to Simon. Couldn’t the other boy leave well enough alone?

Simon wasn’t going to say anything else. He picked up a shell from the beach and flipped it back and forth, and Piggy was still uncomfortable about him being so close. Were their shoulders actually touching now? Piggy didn’t know if Simon understood personal space.

“Hey, your face is red.” Simon leaned forward, turning towards Piggy. There was what Piggy could hear as concern and for a second Piggy appreciated it but then he averted.


“And your arms. They’re awfully red.” Simon continued, and he took Piggy’s arm with one of his hands, as if to inspect it. Piggy flinched and he threw his arm out of Simon’s grasp.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just trying to look at it. I can help.” Simon was trying to comfort Piggy and the other boy understood why but he wasn’t person who needed to be touched. He supposed the other little boys were – they liked to sleep close to one another with the fear of the Beast. But Piggy liked to keep to himself, and he assumed Simon would know this. That didn’t stop him, apparently.

“What could you possibly do?” Piggy’s voice drained. “There isn’t like we have any ointment.”

“I was thinking I could try getting wet sand from the beach. It might make it feel better.” Simon said and Piggy wanted to laugh. How batty was he?’

“Wet sand? What use is that…”

Simon’s face scrunched at the opposing tone and Piggy bit down his lower lip. He sighed and shifted himself.

“…do what you want. Not like anything is really going to solve any issues like this.”

“Jack might have done it.” Simon smiled. “He needs it more than anyone.”

“Merridew is a lobster.” Piggy grinned at the image of a red sea creature with a stick in its claw. “A burnt lobster!”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Simon chuckled and Piggy grinned back. Simon rushed and got a handful of wet sand to press it against Piggy’s arms, running it up and down. Piggy would have kept away but it felt nice, and Simon’s hands were smooth and small. They were like a small child’s hands. Piggy felt a relaxing sensation, and he looked back towards the sun.

But sometimes he looked back at Simon like he was just the same.

fuckyeahrarity-blog  asked:

Hey there! I hear you do fic recs and I'd love to promote some fabulous stories on this here blog. If you could please rec some Rarity fics, I'd really appreciate it! Shippy or non.

Some Rarity fics, comin’ right up! My specialty is romances, so they’ll be heavily represented in what I recommend. :)







Multi-Shipping and Omniship

Inexplicably Non-Shipping

remember when we used to play?

a mix for the teenage verger twins

placebo - running up that hill / depeche mode - i feel you / the smiths - please, please, please, let me get what i want / patrick wolf - tristan / jack off jill - when i am queen / florence + the machine - girl with one eye / evelyn evelyn - love will tear us apart / nine inch nails - piggy / 999 - little red riding hood / sky ferreira - bang bang (my baby shot me down)