#OOOOO they’d fuck me up

[wherenymphsroam]

not to be a whore but I need to be spit roasted between vendetta leon and damnation leon like a week ago

[cantagirldrawinpeace]

ISUKA MENTION!?????? HELLO!!!???? THIS IS AMAZING!!?!?!!

ISUKA IN THE NEW ONE PIECE GAKUEN CHAPTER????? THIS SPIN-OFF KEEPS ON GIVING AND GIVING

[gaybananabread]

✦༻Spoilers༺✦

~This has been in the back of my mind since the movie came out; the time has come. I’m making progress with TickleTober, so enjoy this meal in the meantime! There’s probably more than a hint of shipping in here, but you don’t have to read it like that if you don’t want to. I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Wade Wilson

Ler: Logan Howlett

Summary: Logan is struggling to get used to living with Wade; he has a limit for Wade’s bullshit. The merc loves pushing him to that limit regularly. Logan uses an unconventional method to shut his smartass roommate up.

Warnings: canon-typical language and jokes, spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine and Golden Girls (you’ll see). This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

I’ve finally done it: the ultimate team-up turned homo-erotic-roommates-story. And, ya know, saving my entire timeline; mainly the Logan stuff, though.

Wade had been incredibly happy since they’d saved the existence of his timeline. He was showering regularly, disposed of that horrid “toupee,” and started actually talking to the people in his life about how he felt. It kinda sucked, but hey – character development isn’t always sexy.

Things were going splendidly for the merc with a mouth.

Logan, on the other hand, was slowly going insane.

The Wolverine was grateful for the place to stay, of course; hell, he felt more at home than he had in years. The problem was how…Wade Wade had been acting.

Logan secretly admired how openly true to himself Wade could be; I mean, the guy literally said whatever came to his mind, no matter what. Then again, the guy literally said whatever came to his mind. No matter what.

Even if that thought completely spoiled something for Logan.

“Hey, Peanut! As much as I love that juicy ass, I’m gonna need you to get outta my spot.” Wade flicked his wrist at the eX-Man, beckoning for him to get up. Logan had been there for about twenty minutes, and there was no way he was moving; the episode of Golden Girls he was watching wasn’t finished yet. The man rarely got time to rest like that, savoring every half hour he got with the television like it was holy.

“I’ve been here, bub. Wait your turn.” Logan didn’t even blink, leaning to the side so he could still see the screen. He was gonna finish that episode, damn it.

“Ooo, is that ‘End of the Curse’?” Wade hums, taking a closer look at the screen. Logan wasn’t very far into the episode. “Turns out it’s just menopause, not pregnancy. Man, nothing wakes you up like an existential crisis and skinned minks.”

A low growl rumbled in Logan’s throat, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Ooooo, Wade fucked uuup…

“Did you just spoil the ending to my Golden Girls episode?” The livid tone of his roommate’s voice made Wade’s smile grow nervous.

It’s cool, it’s fine. All I gotta do is nail this recovery. Read and learn, people.

“At least I didn’t tell you that the whole Rose and Miles Webber thing doesn’t work out.”

Fuck. This is why you don’t stare at your roommate’s moobs while trying to save yourself, kids.

“You motherf- WADE !” Logan bolted up from his chair, charging at the blemish-skinned man. Wade made his first smart decision that entire morning:

He ran for his fucking life.

But, of course, luck refused to be on the red-suited man’s side. Wade tripped over one of Mary Puppin’s toys outside his room, Logan’s large hands quickly hoisting him up by the waist. Before he could fantasize anything, he was slammed down on his bed. Which, of course, opened up a whole new realm to dig his own grave in.

“Damn, Peanut! It’s customary to take me to dinner first, but you know I don’t mind gettin’ sloppy~” Okay, that was a little cliché. Wasted opportunity, Wilson.

Logan seemed pissed regardless. “You fucking ruined the one relaxing thing I get to do a week when Al’s out. Do you know how hard it is to enjoy a show when you know what’s gonna happen?!”

As entertaining as seeing Wade squirm beneath him was, Logan wanted revenge. He normally would’ve skewered the smartass, but Al was getting sick of smelling Wade’s blood whenever she left for a few hours. That, and he may or may not have gotten some blood on the couch (don’t tell her).

What else could he do? He wanted Wade to suffer, to regret his actions, to shut up for one in his god-forsaken existence. The only times he could remember that happened was when he was asleep, and when he was…oh. Ohoho, fuck yes.

“You’re gonna learn to shut that gaping, bottomless shithole you call a mouth, Wade, and you’re gonna learn it the hard way.”

“I do everything the hard way, Peanu- yeEEAHAHA! THEHE FUHAHAHACK?!” Before Wade could finish proving Logan’s point yet again, he felt ten muscular fingers knead into his thighs. It was – ironic, he knew – his death spot.

Now, imagine trying to explain why you’re smiling so much when someone’s grabbing at your thighs without stuttering. Spoiler alert: it’s torture.

“You can’t mouth off if you’re too busy laughing, fuckhead. Now shut up and scream for me.” Logan squeezed and squished at the merc's thighs, doing his best to tickle the shit out of him.

“Y-YOUHU CAHAN'T- FUHUHUHUCK! NOHOHO!” Wade tried and failed to speak through his laughter, his head reeling from the intense feeling. For the first time in many moons, the Merc with a Mouth was rendered speechless.

“I can’t fuck? Really? Bold ass statement to make when you’re at my mercy.” Logan’s more playful side was slipping out; how could it not with Wade’s goofy-ass laughter egging him on? Seriously, how could anyone expect him to act like a hard-ass with the man making such purposefully adorable noises?

“NOHOHOT WHAHAHAT IHI MEHEHEANT!” Kicking and squirming, the scarred man was quickly realizing he couldn’t talk his way out of the situation. They were matched in strength, but the tickling quickly un-evened the playing field. Maybe pleading for his life?

“COHOHOME OHOHON! I-IHI’LL QUIHIHIT!”

Logan paused for just a moment, his hands still resting on Wade’s hips. He was…actually gonna stop being a loudmouth? While he didn’t believe a word of that, he still wanted to take things a bit easier on the man; damn feelings…

Slowing down, the Wolverine moved his wiggling fingers to Wade’s stomach. Compared to his thighs, it was a decently tolerable spot; still, it fucking tickled.

“Wohoholvie, thihis is nuhuhuts! Ahand not thehe hohot kihihind!” Okay, maybe he immediately proved himself a liar, but Logan didn’t exactly quit! He was sort of justified, in that sense.

“You never learn, do ya?” There’s an air of amusement and affection in his voice that shocks the both of them. Logan immediately tries to correct it, clearing his throat with a glare. “Stubborn asshole. It’s a bad idea to taunt me when you’re this fucking ticklish.”

“Th-thihihis ihihisn’t fahahahair! Youhuhu’re thehe Tumblr bahahabygirl, nohot mehehe! Youhu shouhuhuld be gehehtting ihit!”

“The fuck is a Tumblr babygirl?” Logan snorted at the silly-sounding words, once again trying to figure out what the hell his roommate was talking about.

“Thehehey knohohow!” Wade pointed towards some unseeable audience, making the hairy man roll his eyes. He seriously needed to get Wade tested for something; it would probably explain so much.

“Do you want me to go back to your thighs?” Logan jerked his hands down threateningly, reveling in the squeal the motion causes. He didn’t even touch the other man that time; it was kinda cute.

“NOOOHOhohooo! Dihickhead!” Without thinking, Wade thrusted his arms out and shoved at Logan’s shoulders. Obviously, the brick wall of a man didn’t move, but his attention was drawn to a specific nuisance: the merc’s arms. Specifically, the fact that he hadn’t explored beneath them yet.

Gathering the mouthy man’s wrists in one hand, Logan forced Wade’s arms up and pinned them to the mattress. Once again, Wade was faced with a tough decision: smart off and completely fuck himself, or grovel and hope for some mercy.

Eh, smart choices are plot killers. This one’s for you, dear reader.

“Y-youhuhu’re really ehembracing your dark side, Peanut~ Next thing ya knowhow, I’m gonna be getting fitted for thohose fuzzy cuffs and a harn- FFFAAHAHAHAAA! OHO- OHOHOKAHAHAY! IHI’M SOHOHORRY! IHIT WAS THEHEHERE!”

Logan showed zero mercy, digging into Wade’s underarm with renewed vigor. He switched back and forth every few seconds, right to left, wrecking the man as thoroughly as possible. The man’s thighs were definitely still his death spot, but his armpits were a close second.

“You don’t act like you’re sorry, ya shithead.” There was a lot less contempt in Logan’s tone than Wade was expecting; he couldn’t exactly comment on it, but the Wolverine seemed almost happy that he had chosen to prolong his torment by being a smartass.

Wade, on the other hand, was going through it; a vibrant blush had taken residence on his cheeks, little tears of mirth showing up for the housewarming party. Worst of all, his exhaustion forced his muscles to relax, allowing snorts to catch in his throat.

“Damn, Wilson. Goin’ hog wild down there, huh?” Wade’s heart would’ve stopped right then if it were possible. Logan “Go Fuck Yourself” Howlett…made a dad joke?!

“Y-YOUHUHU MAHAHDE A JOHOHOHOKE! IHI’M SOHOHO PROUHUHUD!”

“Fuckin’ Christ, just shut up already!” Embarrassed from both the acknowledgement and praise, Logan dug back into Wade’s thigh to silence him; well, keep him from talking by means of hysterical laughter.

About two minutes into getting his thighs attacked by the kitty man, Wade was rethinking all his life choices that led him there. I mean, he obviously wouldn’t do anything different if he actually had the chance to, but there were some regrets. His laugh was growing raspy, a few wheezes slipping in with the snorts as he struggled to catch his breath.

Logan noticed how tired Wade was getting almost instantly. The man hadn’t smarted off in a hot second, so he figured it was time to stop; definitely not because he was taking it easy on Wade or something stupid like that…

The moment the tickles stopped, Wade drew in deep, giggle-ridden breaths as he tried to calm down. He barely noticed his wrists’ release, too tired to lower his arms anyway. It was, admittedly, an utterly adorable sight.

Noticing he was still literally straddling the anti-hero, Logan climbed off and went to grab Wade some water. When he got back to the bedroom, the merc had curled up on his side, a blanket hap-hazardly tugged over him. The eX-man rolled his eyes at the sight, turning the man to face him.

“Here, drink this.”

Despite sticking his tongue out, Wade greedily gulped down the water. His textured cheeks were still a healthy red from the tickling, the ice water both soothing his throat and cooling him off.

“Thanks, Kitty.”

“Just take a nap or somethin’, bub.” Rolling his eyes at the statement, Logan turned and trudged out of the room; neither missed the light blush on his cheeks from the nickname.

Wade settled back into his bed, sighing at the ceiling. Despite everything, he was actually going to try and improve on his spoiling restraint; he kinda deserved what came to him, even if it was totally overkill.

As for the tickling…well, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Logan could’ve cut his vocal chords or sliced his head off in the tub, but he didn’t; the man just did something silly and lighthearted to drill the lesson into his brain. It was curious, in a sense; why would he choose to be lenient with the loudmouth?

It definitely deserved some looking at, to say the least.

Maybe I’ll insult his mutton chops tomorrow. Ya know, for research purposes…

[steddieas-shegoes]

swimmin’ hole

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘hole’

rated t | 404 words | cw: suggestive language | tags: flirting, pre-steddie, pre-season 4

🏊🏊🏊🏊🏊🏊🏊🏊🏊

The air was humid, but the water was still cool. The heat of early summer hadn’t quite turned the swimming hole into a hot bath instead of a refreshing dip.

Steve floated silently, eyes closed.

He graduated today.

His parents had barely posed for a picture before they were on their way to the airport again, leaving him for god knows how long with the instruction that he better have a job or a college acceptance letter by the time they got back.

They didn’t say when they’d be back, though.

He sighed.

“Awful stressed for someone who won’t have to get up at dawn to go back to that hell.”

Steve splashed around as he tried to locate where the voice came from.

He finally located it, a person on the bank across the water, near the rocks that were damn near impossible to walk on once they were wet.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, trying to squint to see who it was. The voice was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“I didn’t realize this was private property.”

“It’s not. But no one’s ever here this late,” Steve managed to get closer, finally recognizing the man sitting on a jacket on the ground. “Munson?”

“You know my name?” Eddie blinked his eyes while holding his hands under his chin. “He knows my name!”

Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile creeping up on his face. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t cream your pants.”

“Ooooo. Is that on offer?” Eddie winked and Steve actually fucking blushed.

“Um.”

“Chill out, man. Just a joke.”

But Steve was watching the way Eddie suddenly seemed tense, despite the fact he was apparently joking. He floated closer, only his arms and head above the water.

The sun was almost set, but the moon was bright already, enough to light up Eddie’s face.

“Was it?”

“What?” Eddie looked ready to run.

“Was it a joke?”

Steve was standing up now, water dripping off of him as he walked towards Eddie.

“What are you-“

“Was it a joke? Or would you like that to be on offer?” Steve felt a bit too confident now, but that was his comfort zone.

“Both? Can it be both?”

“I don’t know, can it?”

Steve was standing right in front of him now, looking down at him and dripping water on his legs.

“Yeah.”

“You should join me then.”

[nightcolorz]

Something I can't stop thinking about when it comes to book vs show is that in the book Louis doesn't really blame Armand for Claudia's death, sure he killed her but he was just upholding The Rules™

The Rules™ say a vampire shouldn't kill their maker and it was Claudia's idea to kill Lestat

The Rules™ say children shouldn't be made vampires and Claudia was made very young

Therefore according to The Rules™ Claudia should die

Armand was just following The Rules™ (and the specific kind of trauma he has doesn't allow him to even consider bending The Rules™ even for someone who wasn't aware of them, if anything Claudia's ignorance is another reason she has to die, someone who is ignorant of The Rules ™ will sure put them all in danger)

So Book Louis doesn't hate Armand, but he does hate The Rules™

The Rules™ cost him Claudia, The Rules™ are awful and unjust, The Rules™ just suck

So when he finds Daniel and the opportunity to tell his story, her story, to have it all published, that's just the opportunity he was looking for to get back at The Rules™

He can't bring Claudia back to life but he can expose all vampires and The Rules™ which say he shouldn't can go to hell

So it's a bit disappointing to me that the show has decided to remove those layers of complexity and made Louis blame Armand instead and simplified Armand's reasons to kill Claudia too

(Also what are Louis reasons to tell the story in this version?)

I was expecting Armand to double down on his reasoning for doing it (she had to die, I was just the executor not the reason she had to die, she wasn't going to make it anyway, all vampires made that young go crazy and are a risk that can expose us all, she would have killed herself soon anyway, she broke The Rules™) I thought that was what Armand's "I could not prevent it" was getting to and was disappointed when he showed to be apologetic to Louis instead

ooooo yes this is so interesting I totally agree with this. In the books Armand and Louis make it very clear that Claudia’s death was the consequence of an abusive fucked up institution (vampirism) that Louis and Armand r bound to + victims of, and the show def misses that. What I like about the vampire chronicles is how vampirism is portrayed as this abusive cycle in a way that binds all characters to the same loops of inescapable abusive patterns, and what’s interesting about that also is how all the characters r aware of this and forgiving of each other in ways humans would never be bcus they know “vampirism just does that to u”. It’s such a unique premise, and it’s unfortunate that the show seems uninterested i. exploring the “vampire culture” aspects of Anne rice world that I’ve always really loved. Sometimes I get the impression that they’d rather make the characters have more generic human responses to their problems so that it can appeal to a broader audience (which is disappointing for a tv show adaptation of a book series that is iconic for how it’s shaped what being a vampire is in pop culture)

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Fancy

@jegulus-microfic January 29 Word count 1000

Previous part First Part

Six months later

He’d met Lily through Remus. Apparently, she’d offered him a piece of chocolate on her first day at work, and now she was his best friend. 

Sirius and Remus had decided to play matchmakers and set them up.

He liked her a lot. She was intelligent, feisty, funny, and she didn’t take anyone’s shit. He’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want anything serious. So they’d agreed to keep it casual, even though Lily slept over. A lot. 

Another new addition to James’s life was an adorable black cat named Leo. Sirius had gone with him to the rescue centre, and James had known the second he saw the runty little kitten that he was the one. 

Leo had settled in quickly, taking over the house. And for such a little guy, he didn’t half grow. Sirius’s puppy, Procyon. Named because she always rose before Sirius. — Lovingly nicknamed Cece,— let Leo walk all over her. She’d been bigger than him, but now he towered over her. Remus had only agreed to get a dog if it was a small one after he’d caught Sirius looking at pictures of Burmese Mountain Dogs and St.Bernards. So Cece the Yorkshire terrier became part of the family.

Lily came clattering down the stairs as James was booting his computer up. 

“Hey, you coming over tonight?” He asked her as she was shoving her feet into her shoes. 

“Yeah, I think so. Nothing else planned.” She told him absentmindedly as she looked for her keys. 

“Gee, thanks,” She rolled her eyes at him and slapped a kiss on his face. 

“See ya later, sexy.” She called behind her as she raced from the house. 

He liked her a lot, but she wasn’t him.

——————————————————————————————————

Regulus was doing surprisingly well at his new job. His boss, while a bit insane, was nice enough. He’d made sure Regulus had everything he needed and checked in weekly.

“Hey,’ Barty poked his head around Regulus’s office door.

“Hi,” Regulus replied, finishing typing before looking up from his computer. 

“You got a minute?” Barty looked nervous. Regulus didn’t think he’d ever seen him like that. Not even when they’d messed up a deadline, and the head boss had come down for a ‘discussion’. 

“Yeah, sure. What’s going on?” Barty had Regulus’s full attention now. 

“You can absolutely say no, and I’m aware that this is not the time or place to be doing this. Please don’t report me to HR. But would you like to go on a date with me this evening? I’m paying.” He added. His cocky smile seemed a bit forced, and Regulus could see a few beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. 

Regulus was shocked. He hadn’t seen this coming at all. But he couldn’t deny that Barty was an extremely handsome man. 

“Yeah, okay. You can pick me up at 7. My address is in my personnel file. I’m sure after this, you’ll have no problem looking through it.” He quirked his eyebrow in a way he hadn’t done in months as a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. 

“Ooooo, I like it when they’re demanding. See you at 7,” He raked his eyes over Regulus. “Wear something sexy.” He winked before he disappeared back onto the office floor. He was back before Regulus could start typing again. 

“Erm—Seriously though, please don’t tell Glenda in HR. I already have two strikes, and she’s got it in for me.” 

“You got it,” Regulus had to chew his cheeks so he didn’t laugh. 

“Good. Now get back to work.” Barty’s boss voice was back in place. He winked again before leaving. 

“Yes, boss.” Regulus snorted.

 He focused on finishing the report he’d been working on before he let his thoughts turn to James.   

——————————————————————————————————

His phone buzzed, ‘Unknown Number’ flashed on the screen. It was 3:30 am. He answered it anyway. 

“Hello?” He listened for a reply, but there was just static and maybe breathing. He wasn’t sure. “For fucks sake.” He groaned into the phone. “Why do these stupid automated calls have to do it so early in the—”

“James,” He felt his heart stutter. He knew that voice. 

“Reg?”

“Hi,” Another stutter.

“Hi’” A pause.

“I went on a date tonight with my boss,” Regulus’s confession came out in a blur. 

“Oh,” James felt the hope in his chest drain. Why, after all this time, was Regulus calling him? And to add insult to injury, calling him to tell him he’d been on a date!

“James?” 

“Yeah, Reg?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, uncertain if he wanted to hear what came next. 

“I miss you.” James froze. It took him a second to reply.

“I miss you too.” His voice came thick with emotion. 

James turned to look guiltily at the sleeping redhead in his bed. He quietly got up and went downstairs to his office.

“James, you still there?” Regulus’s voice whispered down the phone.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I had to go downstairs.” He wasn’t sure how much Regulus knew of his life, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell him. 

“Oh, crap, is Lily there? I’m so sorry, James. I shouldn’t have rung. I’ll- I’ll leave you alone.” Apparently, he knew a lot bloody Sirius and his big mouth.  

“Reg! Reg, wait! Reg, you still there?” He gasped into the phone, panicked. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here.” Came the reply. James let out a sigh of relief. Leo wandered into the office and brushed against James’s legs before jumping into his lap. James’s hand automatically raised to stroke him. 

“Did he take you anywhere nice?” He wanted to get off the subject of Lily and panicked. 

“Yeah, it was really fancy. Like what my parents used to drag me and Sirius to.” 

“What did you have?” It was easier than he’d thought it would be talking for the first time since their break up.

“James?”

“Yeah, Reg.”

“I want to come home.”

Next part

[emsgwenstan]

Personal or professional?

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader

Chap 5| chap 6| chap 7

Words: 3k

Warnings: insecurity’s, swearing.

Note: another fill in chapter… this gif☝️is the look she gives Violet about the door lol.

Well it’s official, It’s the 12th of December and my dreaded birthday, another year of being alive, I guess I should be grateful but only 2 hours until I can go home and sleep! Jesus I really am getting old. I do wish I could see Larissa today but I don’t want to disturb her, we have been texting since that day which was three days ago now, I drove her home that night and the next morning she sent me a message saying good morning and I thought that was really sweet, but this morning she hadn’t said anything, I don’t need to read into it though, I just hope I haven’t done anything wrong. My phone started to ring in my pocket and just when I thought it was her I was wrong.

*Louise*

“Happy birthday vi!” She yelled.

“Thanks Lou.” I said chuckling.

“Happy birthday vi.” I heard jades sultry voice say on the other line.

“Oh yeah jays here too.” Louise said.

“Wanna wish auntie vi happy birthday?” She added.

“Happy birthday auntie violet!” Lou’s daughter lily shouted.

“Aww thanks guys, how is everyone?” I asked.

“Yeah we’re all pretty good, how are you though? You’ve been pretty quiet… perhaps finally found someone?” Louise said teasingly.

My face burned, how am I supposed to say yes I’ve met and fallen in love with someone, we’ve had sex and yet we’re still in a what do they call it now? situationship? Friends with benefits? Let alone it being with a woman- not that they’d be very surprised.

“I have been getting out more and no I’m not with anyone.” I said.

“Let’s hope you find someone vi we don’t want you to be alone forever.” Jade said in a sing song voice.

“Shut the fuck up, says you your a hoe, a serial seducer.” I laughed.

“Ok lily go to your room for a minute.” Lou said.

“Oh my god sorry!” I said.

“Aunt of the year award goes to Violet.” Jade said mockingly.

“Agh, anyway guess what?” I asked.

“What?.” “Mhm?” From the both of them.

“I’ll see you guys at dads this year.” I said.

“What! You’re actually gonna show up!?” Louise said.

“Yeah but I’m not gonna be alone, I’m bringing my… friend Larissa.” I said awkwardly.

“Ooooo Larissa.” They said in unison. I could just imagine them looking at each other knowingly.

“Please… anyway I’ll be there for a week then I’m going to see my mum.” I stated.

“We haven’t seen you for ages, oh and by the way dad has been such a dick lately, all he talks about is fucking golf.” Jade said.

“When isn’t he a dick, and that doesn’t surprise me, I’m not going for him though I’m coming to see you guys.” I spoke.

“Yeah well we will be there for like 9 days I think, we really need to go out all together again, I know I need to get hammered.” Louise said laughing.

“Agreed I know just the place.” I said.

“We know.” They both said giggling.

“Ok well I’m at work so I need to go but I’ll see you guys then ok?” I said.

“Alright we love you sis.” Lou said.

“Love you guys, tell lily and Lottie i love them to.” I said.

“Will do, bye.” She said.

“Bye.”

I went back to stacking lengths of timber in their designated racks and began to wrap up the rest of my stuff getting ready to come home.

Finally in the threshold of my house, I kicked off my boots and tore off my work clothes, it was so fucking hot I felt like I was suffocating. The heat was up so high last night because it was freezing and I forgot to turn it off this morning as well as having the fire going. Turning it off and keeping the fire going I went and jumped in the shower quickly to rinse off the sawdust and settle in for the night.

Hopping into bed I let my hair out of the tight ponytail it’s been in all day letting it fall over my pillow and just like that I passed out. It was only 6pm but I didn’t care it was much needed, although it wasn’t until a while later when I could feel my body slightly shaking that I awoke again. “Wake up darling.” A hushed voice spoke, I know that accent anywhere, why is she here? how is she here? I rolled over slightly with my eyes cracked open, Larissa was standing beside me with a hand delicately wrapped around my bicep.

“Good morning.” She teased. “What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” I asked sleepily. Larissa brought her hand to my face stroking my cheek lightly. “I did knock, but no answer. The door was unlocked, I should have rung you I’m sorry.” She said in haste. “No, no it’s fine you’re welcome you don’t even need to knock.” I said rubbing my eyes. Larissa smiled warmly. “Sit up for a moment I’ll be right back.” She said leaving the room. I’m still a little bit delirious wondering if this is even real or not, but the fact that I could feel her gave me every indication that it was. Slowly I sat up and realised I’m only wearing underwear, I clutched my duvet to my chest and sat cross legged against my head board.

Larissa waltzed back in with a large box in her hands, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor boards getting closer gave me more anticipation wondering what was going on. She perched herself on the edge of my bed and placed the huge box in my lap, it was a deep red with a crimson, satin bow on top. I looked at her with curiosity and a small smile. “Open it.” She said gesturing me to do so. Slowly I undid the ribbon and opened the box, I could smell it first, the large bouquet of red and dark red- almost black roses that lay on top. “Oh Larissa, these are beautiful.” I said plucking them out and smelling how heavenly they are. “How did you know these were my favourite… not just the flowers but the colours.” I asked jokingly. “I have my ways.” She said. I giggled at her and lay the roses next to me and continued to open the layers of tissue paper.

The next thing was clothing of some sort, pulling it up I gasped. “It’s beautiful.” I said astonished, the black dress was gorgeous, intricate black beads lined the off the shoulder cut out and strapped top, the thigh slit down the side and the cuffs of the sleeves. “Why did you get me this?” I asked incredulously. “Because you deserve it.” She said blatantly. “I’m afraid I don’t think it will fit.” I said solemnly. “It will, I promise.” She ensured moving the tissue further out of the way to indicate there’s more. Carefully I laid aside the dress as well and took out the next thing. A large black coat with fur around the hood, sleeves and bottom. My eyes lit up and I became speechless. Trying to catch a sneaky look at the tag, I didn’t find a price or size instead the words ‘Vivienne Westwood’ in scribed on it. “What the fuck.” I breathed, I looked at the dresses tag and the same thing was embedded.

“There’s more.” She said suggestively. I looked at her with wide eyes and put aside the coat. Underneath was a shoe box and another thing wrapped with tissue paper, I opened that first unraveling the fragile paper. My cheeks burned, when I came to relise it was lingerie, a set of scarlet red lace, a bra with matching panties. I admired them, running my fingertips along the intricacies of the material, I gave a shy and quiet thank you to Larissa and set them aside too. The last thing was the shoe box that made my breathing stop. ‘Cristian louboutin’ no fucking way.

Larissa could see my face at the sight of it, how much I was in shock and awe even without seeing what’s in it. I took off the lid and just about had a heart attack, slick black heels lay next to another adorning the familiar red bottoms. I turned to Larissa with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “How- why…I. Larissa I’ve wanted these shoes since I was 17!” I screeched. She grinned and put her hand on my wrist. “Happy birthday darling.” She whispered sweetly. Again I melted. “Oh rissa, I don’t know if I can accept these.” I said softly. “Yes you can, I wanted to give you something to make you feel beautiful, and I know that black makes people feel slimmer- not that you need to of course! I just…-god, I thought I could help you feel better about yourself and show you how beautiful you are my sweet.” She said feeling horrible at how that sounded. “No I understand, it’s very thoughtful of you. Most of my clothes are black.” I said smiling.

“And I think red looks gorgeous on you too.” She said. I immediately remembered that I wore a red bra that day and that’s what she was pertaining to. Larissa was very close it was harder to not be under her piercing gaze, I put the box next to me and wrapped my arms around her neck, slowly I leaned in and hoped she wouldn’t pull away, I placed a chaste kiss to her lips grinning into it. “Thank you lovely.” I said into her ear still hugging her. “You’re very welcome.” She said pulling back. “Now I hope it’s ok with you but I made reservations for 8:00, so go get changed into these and we can go get dinner?” She said questionably. “You didn’t!” I said. She stood from the bed and reached for my hands to help me up, I stood and covered my stomach feeling a little self conscious again.

Larissa grasped my wrists, moved them away and looked in my eyes. “Don’t hide from me darling.” She said placing another kiss on my forehead. She turned on the spot and left me to get changed. In the bathroom I painted on some make up opting for dark eyeshadow and lipstick a few shades darker than Larissa’s, I curled my collarbone length blonde hair and put on my gold necklace with a ‘v’ initial and a few rings from the dish on the sink. I slipped on the red lingerie with a smirk and then the dress, for a moment my heart sank when the sip at the back wouldn’t go up, but turns out it was just caught on the material, it slid up my back with ease. I slipped on the shoes and couldn’t stop the excitement that spread through my body as I did so.

Looking in the mirror, I stared at myself, I hadn’t even realised I had a waist, the shoes are what I kept looking at and my calf muscles that sculpted due to the height. Larissa carefully opened my bedroom door and walked up behind me, I looked at her in the reflection giving a timid glance, she pressed herself to my back and gently put her head on my shoulder and moved her hands to meet around my front, her palms smoothed out the fabric and stopped at the swell of my stomach. “You look stunning.” She said kissing my temple. “Thank you.” I said. “Shall we go?” She asked. “Yeah.” I grabbed the coat and put it on.

Going past the kitchen and hallway I grab my keys from the dish. “What are you doing?” She asked. I dangled the keys giving her the hint I’m driving. “No, I’m driving.” She said plucking them out of my hand and putting them back down. Larissa walked out the door and I followed behind her, she stepped to the passenger side and opened the door for me, I giggled at her chivalry. She walked to the other side and sat in the drivers seat. “Ooo the woman knows how to drive stick.” I said as a joke. “Yes I do, something else we have in common.” She said turning on the car and reversing out of the drive way.

Once she went thought the gears, Larissa placed her hand on top of mine and curled her fingers into my palm, the butterflies in my stomach were alive and well at this point, not that they ever go away when I’m with her. When she down geard and sadly removed her hand from mine it must have meant we’re close, but when I saw the place my eyes just about bulged out of my head. Larissa killed the engine and stepped out, just as I open the door she glared at me through the windscreen, I laughed throwing my head back and closed the door again. She made it to the other side and reopened the door extending a hand to me.

I stepped out onto a gravel driveway and kept a hold of her hand. She closed the door and started to lead me in the direction of the restaurant. “Wait.” I said stopping. Holding her hand I took off my shoes and started walking again until we made it to cement and put them back on. I looked at her confused face. “I want to savour and look after these shoes.” I said. “Oh.” She chuckled, we made our way up the grand steps to the front door. This place was about ten minutes out of town and secluded by trees, the building was a tan colour and had pillars surrounding it, pot plans and ivy covered the exterior, a red carpet rolled down the stairs and the large double doors open wide with a ‘please wait to be seated’ sign on the wall outside of them.

Larissa glanced at me as a young woman greeted us. “Hello ladies, booking name?” She asked. “Weems.” Larissa said. “Yes, right this way.” She lead us into a massive dining hall, intimate tables with candles and silver alike, chandeliers vaulted from the ceiling, paintings, even live music with people playing violins and other sweet sounding instruments, a dance floor- for those who actually dance, it was beautiful and it felt right to be here experiencing this with Larissa, if I came here without her, she would be the one I’d tell this place about. “Here you go.” She sat us in a green velvet booth and placed two menus on the table then left.

“I didn’t even know this place existed.” I said. “Do you like it?” She asked shrugging off her cream coat, Larissa was wearing a plum coloured silk blouse and a matching cream pencil skirt, my breath hitched at the sight of her, somehow she seemed nervous, the woman who exudes power, authority and confidence is nervous, but then again I know its not the first time around me, but as if I do that to her, its probably just because she wants me to have a good night. “Absolutely, I really don’t deserve this-.” “Yes you do.” She said cutting me off. I took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Any idea what you feel like?” I asked. We both went through the menu together, decided on our choices and ordered.

Larissa and I were having a conversation about what we both did today when we were interrupted by a man who seemed to know her. “Larissa, I thought that was you.” He said. She looked up and let out a sharp exhale through her nose forcing a tight lipped smile. “Mr jones, lovely to see you.” She said speaking though here teeth. “Likewise, I don’t see you out of that school often.” He said. Larissa bit the insides of her cheeks quite literally refraining herself from spitting a very unkind insult his way. “Yes well Marcus, I do have a life.” She said bitterly, if looks could kill. His line of sight went to me. “And who is this?” He asked. If it were anyone else, She would have felt compelled to say ‘oh forgive me how rude I didn’t introduce you sooner’ instead she kept her back handed behaviour. “This is violet Hastings, my very good friend… now if you don’t mind we would like to enjoy our dinner.” Her voice sounding like venom. “Nice to meet you, I suppose I should get back to my wife.” He said awkwardly leaving.

The silence was killing me. “Ok what was that?” I asked chucking. Larissa let out a huff and turned to face me. “That was Marcus jones, a sleazy twit… also a board member.” She explained whilst simultaneously taking a sip of the wine the waitress brought over. “He did seem a bit smug.” I said sidding with her. “He’s an imbecile, all he does is make my job harder and tries to deny my advances for the schools funding and changes.” She said twisting the stem of the glass on the table. “Not to mention, every Thursday night he goes and screws his assistant, how cliche.” She rasped, throwing back the remaining wine in her glass. I raise my eyebrows in response. “I was a bit harsh wasn’t I?” She asked grasping my thigh under the table. “No, because if it were me id have been worse, you did a great job.” I said. Larissa laughed. A real laugh. It was loud and turned a few heads, but I didn’t care id love to hear it again and again and again. She covered her mouth with her fingers trying not to do it again. She never fails to make me weak.

The dim lighting made her look even more delectable then she already is and I found myself staring at her. “What?” She asked noticing. “Your just…ethereal? I don’t even know how you real.” I said lowly. “Stop it.” She giggled looking down. “I don’t think you know how pretty you are Larissa.” I spoke. “I could say the same about you vi.” She said tightening her grip on my thigh. The waitress brought over our food and left us to eat alone again. Once we were finished a flurry of people went to the dance floor with each of their partners. “Would you like to dance violet?” She leaned in to whisper. “Oh I don’t dance.” I said. “Please?” She pushed. Looking in her eyes I tilted my head, I can’t say no to her. “Sure.” I said reluctantly. Larissa took my hand and guided me to the floor.

On perfect queue the music started, the tune was familiar, experience I think it was. Everyone began to slowly sway to the music as if their bodies were one, Larissa held onto my waist and brought my hand to her shoulder, I placed my free hand in hers and began to dance. She was wonderful, so free and loose, Larissa let herself succumb to the music and I did the same, the stronger the tune the more contrived the movements, Larissa spun me about like they do in those ridiculous romcoms but Christ it felt like I was in one, her gaze never faulted, eyes piercing into my own as if the whole world disappeared. When the music went softer Larissa braced her arms around my torso and I joined my other hand to her vacant shoulder and let my head rest in the crook of her neck.

"May I cut in?" A voice said behind my shoulder, as I turned there standing was that same halfwit Marcus, asking me to dance. I looked to Larissa for help, she said nothing only looking down at her feet. "Um...I-." I began about to reject his offer. "Great!" He took my hand and I was dragged of with him, as a new song started I couldn't stop staring at Larissa, she stepped away sitting back at the table hardly watching what was going on, like the big ball of anger I am sometimes, I felt obliged to peruse my next move, as he was twisting me around like a monkey on steroids, I leaned back and stopped on his foot with my heel and elbowed him in the face. "Oh! my apologies I'm a horrible dancer.” I said with faux forgiveness. Immediately I ran back to Larissa.

"Why didn't you save me." I said sternly and out of breath. "You looked happy with him." She said fiddling with her fingers. "I beg your pardon? I’m sorry but if that's what I look like when I'm happy with someone then I must look insane when I'm with you." I expressed sitting down again. "Did you not just see what happened." I asked. "Yes, I must say it was a little entertaining." She said giving me a meek smile. "good. But why didn’t you do anything?” I asked. “I don’t know… I’m sorry I just thought-.” “It’s fine, I mean he had that coming.” I said. We sat together for a while and before I excused myself and went off to find the lavatory leaving Larissa at the table alone again.

*Larissa’s pov*

I’m so glad violet likes the gifts I gave her, she looks breathtaking, I feel deeply saddened that she doesn’t see herself through my eyes, but I do suppose no one sees their own beauty like others. I hope I didn’t take it to far when i gave her the lingerie, i just couldn’t help myself. Violet is an incredible woman, shes smart and witty, she’s kind and full of skills i could only dream to obtain, she makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room as if i were so interesting, a 48 year old who lives and breathes to work and is unbelievably stubborn, something else we have in common i think. I adore all the things about her she views as flaws but somethings telling me that there’s still more to her, but in time i hope to learn them all.

I feel so guilty I did nothing to stop that asshole from taking Violet away from me, I thought we had a special moment, I guess my own insecurities came to play, the last time I danced with somebody I was with mortica and that didn’t end well, why would it with her?

I observed her as she came back to the table, her legs are stunning and she can definitely walk in heels, i do find that people our height can do a good job in them if i do say so myself, I’m pleased that she insists on taking care of them, even if she didn’t id just buy her a new pair. Before she sat i offered to take her home, we had been here well over two hours and thought she would appreciate actually going home. “Sure.” She said. I stood and draped my own coat over my shoulders and placed my hand in the small of violets back to go and pay. As already anticipated she tried to debate on who was paying but in the midst of it i handed the poor waitress my card, the glare i received when violet heard the beep on the machine was endearing, she did look as though she could physically hurt me but i kept my laughter at bay.

Exiting the restaurant, violet stopped and moved her head to gaze at the stars above, it was very beautiful, no light pollution, no noise, just the stars, moon, violet and I, although i found my view much better than hers. The reflection in her eyes and the soft glow of the out side lights from the restaurant made her impossibly more beautiful, that doesn’t even sound like the right word, but it will do.

*violets pov*

The sky was extraordinary I haven’t seen it like this for a while, but my gaze was cut short when Larissa ushered me to the car and opened my door again. On the ride home I placed my hand in her lap playing with the material of her skirt, I was so relaxed that I eventually fell asleep, the soft hum of the radio and the smell of her perfume lulled me to dose off. Larissa opened my door and gently coaxed me awake and let me rest against her side as she walked us inside.

By the time we made it to my room I had woken up a bit more and turned to Larissa. “Are you ok?” I asked. “I’m fine.” She said. I took off my heels and placed them inside my robe out of the way, I saw her looking down at the floor as she sat on the edge of my bed. Trying to find a way to lighten the mood I reached for my small speaker and turned it on, flicking through my phone I found a song to play, set down my phone and pulled her to stand. Larissa looked at me confused wondering what’s going on, I placed her hands around my neck and I locked mine around her waist and pressed my body to hers.

I hummed along to the tune and swayed to the slow rhythm, Larissa rested her temple on my forehead and sighed. “I don’t dance for just anyone you know.” I whispered in her ear, I could see the small smile across her face. “Violet?… why are you doing this?” She asked still wrapped around me. “Because you deserve to know that you’re cared for to, because you’re special and you would do the same for me.” I said. Larissa was quiet after that, but she did grip me a little tighter and breathe a little deeper.

After the song stopped I paused it and started to get changed. Larissa offered to drag down my zip, I stepped out of my dress and picked it up hanging it neatly inside the wardrobe. Just as I was about to enter the ensuite to change Larissa’s voice rang through the air. “Wait!” She said. I turned on the spot and looked at her flickering eyes and ridged stance, I was silent waiting for her to continue. “I-I… was wondering if you could just… stay- in what you have on.” She mumbled. My eyes widened at her ask, my stomach riddled with butterflies.

Larissa’s gaze met mine and slowly she stepped out of her heels, removed her coat and pulled off her blouse and skirt, only left standing in her underwear. My gaze never left her, not once, I don’t recall I actually blinked to be frank. “Is it ok if I stay?” She asked. I paced back towards her and discarded the clothes I’m not going to be changing into on the floor, I took ahold of Larissa’s hand and threw back the covers of my bed and crawled in before her. I found a comfortable position on my side and laid out my right arm for her to rest her head on, to which she did.

There were no sounds, no interruptions, no one else but us- half naked and left in only undergarments, Larissa’s long limbs were intertwined with my own and the way she studied my face made blood rush to my cheeks, I did the same though- studied her that is, stroking her hair and tracing unknown shapes along her jaw and lips, especially over her scar. “What are you thinking?” I whispered, Larissa’s eyes fluttered to mine. “It’s silly.” She hummed softly. “Tell me? I’m sure it’s not.” I said back. “I’ve not been this… close to a normie before.” She expressed. I adjusted my head a little. “And what does that mean to you, is that a good thing or a bad thing?… are you saying that your view on me would change if I were?” I said sitting up a little. “No of course not i just mean, I haven’t been exposed to any normie that has been… well, like you.” She said sheepishly.

I sat mulling over the conversation, on one hand it’s disheartening to hear that she hasn’t been accepted due to the fact of being an outcast, and on the other I suppose she still hasn’t… “I know that was rather odd of me to bring up but it was just something that I had been thinking about, it’s nice to see that normies and outcasts can be civil.” She murmured. I felt a tinge of guilt gnaw in my stomach, just wait for the right time Violet. “No I get it, really, especially since you dedicate your life to ensuring your students feel accepted for who they are.” I said laying back down.

For a while it was quiet and peaceful, Larissa was the one who fell asleep first, but as I rolled over she slightly roused earning an almost incomprehensible statement. “Happy birthday Violet, my sweet sweet girl.” She left her head against the back of my shoulder and pulled me by the waist to rest against her front. “I love you Larissa.” I breathed but with no response I knew she had fallen asleep.

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar

@giogwensversion @sabraaabra

@readingtheentrails @readingtheentrails

[tinyfishtits]

Would love to know your opinion on what you think Micah’s deal with Abigail was. I know he hits on pretty much all the women at camp but to me he always seemed more serious/persistent with her??!

Ooooo okay okay. Well my immediate thought was that - because she has a history as a working girl and canonically slept with most of the men in the gang when she joined - Micah would have instantly felt like he was owed her affection in a way.

And I mean he’s always looking for ways to one up and piss off arthur and John and getting Abigail would be the biggest prize for him on both those accounts, god, imagine how furious they’d be. I mean just flirting with her pisses them off, i bet he loves it. He'd be all over Mary Linton if she ended up in the gang with Arthur too mark my words!

But mostly i think its because Abigail is fucking badass and beautiful and he sees that. Holds her in a higher regard than the other girls in camp who he sees as weak, drunk, old, sensitive, not worth the effort. 

And if ya want me to get really deep into it I think she might remind him of his mother who I personally believe had to be some kind of badass outlaw and a working woman as well to have fallen in with his, as he puts it, Pair of wild horses Father and grandfather. She probably gave him high standards for what a ‘real’ woman is and he sees that in Abigail. 

I also think that seeing her raise Jack in the gang cracked something open in him, made him feel like maybe there is a way to walk the line, be a murdering, asshole outlaw and have a woman who loves you enough and can hold her own enough to be a part of that life with him. A working woman choosing him out of everyone else is his wet dream and John of all people is living his dream?? Unacceptable.

Though I don’t think he genuinely wants her that way, just the possibility she represents. he has too big an ego and pride for the time to raise another man’s son. I mean he’s no better than John and look what even the possibility of that did to him.

Plus he just seems like the kind of guy that gets off on seeing a woman be all mothery and maternal and he secretly wants her to stroke his hair and call him sweet names. Say it with me gang ((breeding kink)) 🤭

ANYWAY… i guess these are my opinions lol. Gosh you guys are opening the floodgates I'm never going to be able to shut up now.

Thanks for the ask anon ❣️

[yellowsugarwords]

Hello! So sorry for sending in another but could I please request a Ericson group x reader where reader had an ex bf or gf arrive at the school, their ex tried to get close to them again ad how the ericson gang reacts to that?! Thank you! <3

OOOOO BOY let’s do this omg omg omg I love these types of requests. I legit get little butterflies being able to write them they’re so FUN

Marlon: Marlon instantly didn’t like the stranger. Not only were they an ex, which already made Marlon hesitant to allow them inside, but they weren’t pulling their weight. They seemed too hard to be stuck to the hip of Y/N. But the second Marlon actually witnessed something? Marlon cracked his knuckles, spotting the scene of the ex looming over Y/N, and started over. He could see they were trying to convince Y/N of something, as if pleading with them. As Y/N started away, their ex snagged their arm, stopping them. Marlon picked up his speed, grabbed the back of their shirt, and ripped them back. “I suggest you never do that to them again.” Just as the ex started to protest, Marlon glared, sliding Y/N behind him. “Since we’re the ones housing and feeding you, I suggest you check the shitty attitude.” Scoffing, blood boiling, he turned, bringing Y/N away from the scene. “Thank you,” they whispered faintly. Marlon only nodded, too lost in rage to think straight.

Louis: Louis furrowed his brow seeing a commotion occurring near the front gates. Y/N was working the graveyard shift, keeping watch for any signs of life outside of the gate. That meant that their ex - a new recruit at Ericson - knew exactly where they’d be. “Stop it,” Y/N hissed. It came across like a scold, but was spat through a whisper. His gut churned. Something was wrong. He started down the front steps, making his way right to the gate. He could see the ex reach out for Y/N, Y/N swatting their hand out of the way, and their ex gripping their arm and tugging them closer to their face. “Hey,” Louis scolded. Loud enough to grab their attention, but not loud enough to stir up anything from outside the gate. Louis clamped down on the arm gripping Y/N. The moment the ex looked go, Louis tossed it to the side and stepped between them. “Don’t touch them like that.” “Dude, you don’t get--” “I don’t need to get anything.” Y/N seldom saw Louis mad. Cautiously, they placed a gentle hand on his back. “Don’t bother following us.” Louis turned, wrapping his arm around Y/N and escorting them inside. “Stay with me in the library for a while to be sure he’s done, okay?” Y/N nodded, beyond thankful for his tenderness.

Violet: Violet furrowed her brow at the sight before her. She had already been sceptical of Y/N’s ex from the first moment she saw them, but now? Now she was positive there was something off with them. She tossed herself to her feet, wandering closer to where the two were having a passionate debate, with Y/N’s hands waving in passion. “Can’t you just--” Their ex began, hands knotted in their aggravated hair. “Shut the fuck up and listen once in a while?” Yep. That was all that Violet needed to hear. “Hey!” If there was one thing that Violet knew how to do, it was to get someone’s urgent attention. The moment Y/N turned around, Violet was right up in their face. “Gonna walk that statement back?” Their ex raised a brow, as if confused by the request. “Look, asshole.” She began, getting even closer. “If you’re going to stay within our gates, you follow our rules. And rule number one is that you don’t talk to Y/N.” Their ex scoffed at first but Violet crossed her arms. “Not even in that way. Don’t talk to them. Ever. At all.” Their ex could see Violet was dead serious. Shoving the ex by their shoulder, Violet reached forward and took Y/N’s hand, tugging them away. “Come on, leave this jerk to themselves.” Out of earshot, Y/N squeezed her hand and sighed. “Thank you.” “Please,” Violet scoffed. “I was waiting for a reason to kick their ass.” The two chuckled.

Mitch: Mitch didn’t take kindly to bullshit, and he could smell it a mile-away. He had to be good at it in this world, especially when he was attempting to raise someone like Willy. So, spotting Y/N and their ex wandering around behind the school automatically triggered alarm bells. So, without much thought, he followed. By the time he rounded the corner, witnessing Y/N’s ex all up in their face, Mitch scoffed. “Okay asshole, calm down.” Mitch drew closer, wedding himself with casual ease between the two of them. He jetted his shoulder toward the ewx’s chest, showcasing how little he cared for them. “I will happily kick you out of here if you keep treating them like that.” Y/N’s ex went to open their mouth, but Mitch scoffed their chest, sending them back a few steps. “It’s not up for debate.” He said, suddenly growing more serious. Without breaking eye contact with the ex, he wrapped an arm around Y/N and pulled them closer. “I don’t want to see you talking to Y/N like that again.” Without another word, he guided them away. “You okay?” he asked under his breath, ensuring the ex couldn’t hear. Y/N only nodded, amazed at how swiftly and easily he had taken control of the situation.

Aasim: Aasim hated confrontation, and in this world it was hard to miss, but within the walls of Ericson? He desperately attempted to avoid it. They were all confined, and one wrong fight could start a civil war. Or, so he thought. “I can do this by myself.” He could year Y/N scoff. He was sitting in the library, attempting to read, when he could hear bickering coming from the kitchen area. “Let me help.” “No. Just leave me alone.” Slowly, Aasim stood. His chest tightened as he drew closer. He could tell that it was Y/N’s ex, a new addition to their group, who had already been making Aasim second guess the decision to let them in. “Why don’t you ever want me around?” “Guess.” Y/N spat back. Finally, Aasim rounded the corner and stood in the doorway, questioningly staring at the two of them. “What’s going on?” Aasim asked. He could see Y/N’s ex looming over them as they were attempting to take inventory. Aasim furrowed his brows. “I don’t even need to know.” As confidently as he could muster, he started forward, gently took Y/N’s hand and guided them away, not wanting to tug at them. “Come on, we can do inventory tomorrow.” He said softly, tossing a look over his shoulder before escorting Y/N to the library. Y/N’s grip remained firm on Aasim’s hand, as if not wanting to ever let go. Aasim didn’t mind.

Ruby: Ruby could hear a commotion coming from behind her. She had been helping Omar cook dinner on the fire when she turned, spotting Y/N scolding one another from the other side of the courtyard. “That doesn’t look good,” Omar said softly. Ruby didn’t think twice and started over. “Hey,” Ruby started softly, silencing Y/N’s ex in the middle of their tirade. “Everything okay?” She raised a brow, specifically sceptical of the ex - their newest addition - who hadn’t yet earned Ruby’s trust. “Yes,” the ex answered quickly. “No.” Y/N forced. “I’m not getting back together with you.” Ruby’s eyes widened realising what their row was about. “And you're fighting Y/N on this?” Y/N’s ex turned to Ruby, eyes filled with rage, but Ruby didn’t back down. Her mama bear instincts always kicked in when needed. “They gave you their answer.” She scoffed, getting closer. Clearly, the ex hadn’t been expecting her lack of fear. “I suggest you listen. Otherwise, we’ll be happy to toss you back out there again.” Ruby grabbred Y/N’s hand, guiding them away. “Come, you can help me with dinner.” She said softly. Y/N squeezed Ruby’s hand, sweetly wrapping her arms around Ruby’s. “Thank you so much for coming.” Ruby shook her head, her mind racing with rage. “Anytime, hun.” Was all she could say.

Omar: Omar frowned when he noticed Y/N and their ex emerging from the school together. As far as Omar had remembered, Y/N had specifically told them to not approach. To stay ‘As far as possible.’ Omar watched as Y/N started toward the greenhouse, their ex trotting after them, saying words Omar couldn’t make out. He decided to follow. By the time he got within ear shot, he could feel his stomach turn. “You never want to hear me out.” “Because I don’t want to talk to you and I’ve told you that.” Omar finally emerged, having heard enough. “Hey,” he started softly, waiting until the ex’s attention was on him. “You heard them. Ease off.” The ex scoffed, stuffing their hands into their pockets passively. “Come on, dude.” “They said they want to be left alone.” Omar said, drawing closer. “So listen. We chose to let you stay. Don’t make us change our minds.” His voice was quiet and calm, but stern. It was strict in Omar’s own unique way. He held a hand out to Y/N who eagerly took it, allowing Omar to lead them away. They shakily sighed and Omar wrapped an arm around their shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “You’re okay,” he assured softly. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Brody: Brody jumped hearing commotion from the other end of the courtyard. She was on watch duty at the front gate, and turned hearing what seemed like bickering. Turning, she spotted Y/N and their ex, standing on the Ericson front steps, arms flailing as they argued. Since it was getting later, and since the night-shift had only just begun, it was quiet outside. She could hear relatively well what they were talking about. “You shouldn’t have come here.” “Then why did you let me in?” “You were going to die out there.” “If you hate me so much, why does that matter?” “Ugh! You’re infuriating.” “Hey,” Brody finally called, snagging both of their attention. “Y/N, I need your help with something.” She fumbled over what a good lie could be. Finally, she gestured to the bow in her hands. “One of my arrows is jammed.” It was the best thing she could think of. Shooting their ex one last dirty look, Y/N started over. Attempting to seem genuine, Brody offered her bow to Y/N. “It’s fine, I just wanted to get you out of there.” Y/N smiled, accepting the bow and pretending to fiddle with it. “Let me know when they leave.” Y/N was beyond thankful for the stealthy approach Brody chose to take.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 20: The Luau

THURSDAY - SUMMER 11

“Oh, fucking hell.” 

Achilles never checked his mail. It was a bad habit of his that had developed during his time at BRLO (he had to see enough advertisements at work, thank you very much) and that he had since never bothered to break. Coupons and flyers and grocery store catalogues—he needed none of it. As for letters—well who wrote letters these days, anyway? If someone really needed him badly enough, they’d call. 

That being said, a small package from his cousin had been overdue for delivery, and thinking that perhaps it had been placed in his mailbox rather than on his doorstep, he had finally opened the damn thing, digging around countless, dusty circulars and newsletters to try to locate Camille’s swoopy handwriting. Alas, there was nothing to be found. Dammit.

With a grunt, he squatted to pick up the scattered contents of the mailbox from the grass to later dump into the recycling bin when a pale green envelope of thick, heavy paper caught his eye. 

A wedding invitation? He ran through all his old friends—he didn’t think any of them even knew he had moved. A secret admirer? Fat chance. Intrigued, he ripped it open to read:  

Dear Ashee Ache Achilles, 

Tomorrow, Summer 11, we’re all gathering at the beach for the annual Pelican Town Luau. 

The highlight of the event is the communal potluck. Make sure you bring something good to contribute! The governor himself is attending the event, so make sure you’re on your best behavior. Come to the beach sometime between 9AM and 2PM. 

-Mayor Lewis

Ah shit. Talk about disappointments. This one was twofold—one, the letter was from Mayor Lewis, gross. And two, what in the world was he going to bring to a potluck that started in an hour?

“Fucking hell,” Achilles muttered again, stomping back inside his farmhouse to his fridge, despite knowing full well that when he opened it, he’d bear witness to about six eggs, an old leek, a hunk of cheese, and some raspberries Maru had shown him grew naturally on some of the Valley’s native vines. 

Maybe he could grab something from Pierre’s… 

But when he arrived at the general store, there was no one to be found behind the woefully locked door. “Closed for Festival” said the neatly lettered sign. Damn. He had hoped Abigail would’ve at least been present to save him from embarrassment. He supposed the saloon would be similarly closed for the holiday… 

He could show up empty handed. Oh, but it’d be rude to arrive without a contribution—he’d already messed up once with the Mullners during the Egg Festival dinner, when he’d left the bottle of wine behind. Absolutely humiliating, the height of poor taste and bad manners…

Perhaps he wouldn’t show up at all. Hide in his farmhouse and pretend to be sick… or perhaps he’d leave town, for knowing Lewis, sickness wouldn’t stop the mayor from rapping on his door and accusing him of declaring “war on the pillars of the community” or what not…

Oh, but he had been looking forward to the festival. Good food, decent people, and, most importantly, something to do… 

Just then, Achilles heard the boisterous laughs of none other than Abigail herself skipping down the northward path with Sebastian and Sam naturally in tow. 

“Hello hello!” she called upon seeing him. “Excited for the luau, Achilles?” 

“Ah…” 

“Whatcha bringing to the pot luck?” Sam asked. Between the three of them, they carried two large dishes covered in tin foil. 

“Forgot, huh?” It was Sebastian, naturally, who was the first to pick up on Achilles’ empty hands. “No problem. We’ll just say you helped us with these.” 

“Easy as pie!” Abigail added. 

But Achilles shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Doesn’t seem quite right to take credit for something I didn’t actually do.” 

“Shit, no one will know,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “But up to you.” 

Achilles turned to Abigail. “Say, you wouldn’t be able to let me pop into the general store and grab a few things…” 

“Ooooo…” Abigail’s face scrunched as she cracked her knuckles and glanced through the glass at the small pyramid of on-sale bell peppers. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t have the key on me and dad’s already down at the beach.” 

“Ah. No worries…” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just slap your name on our stuff? It’s really no big deal.” 

“Thanks, Sam, but it’s all right. I’ll figure something out.” 

“Suit yourself, man. We’ll see you down there!” 

They traipsed off—Abigail with a slight limp, Achilles briefly noticed before turning his attention back to the problem at hand. Perhaps he could pick a bunch of raspberries and class them up in one of his nice fruit bowls. Yeah, that could totally work, right…? 

You sad, dumb bastard…

“Hello, dear!” 

Evelyn was coming out of Dusty’s pen, a large jug of water in her hands. Dusty himself was on her heels, ready to follow her back to the house. Too hot to be outside! the slow, low wag of his tail seemed to say. 

“Let me get that for you,” Achilles said, hurrying over and taking the jug. 

“Oh, that’s very kind of you!” 

They made their way over to 1 River Road. 

“Are you excited for the luau, dear?” 

“Ah… oh yes! Looking forward to it…” He opened the front door for her and Dusty first, taking off his shoes in the foyer before setting the jug in the kitchen. 

“You just missed Alex, he and Haley usually make something together for Luau Day.” She must’ve caught him peaking his head around the space. “You know, dear, George and I would actually love some help with our own dishes. I’m just finishing up the poppyseed muffins, but if you happen to have some time, I would be incredibly grateful if you could peel these potatoes and chop those veggies over there. I know George would very much appreciate it, he hates cutting up vegetables.” 

In response to his name being dropped, George croaked an aggressive “What?” from the living room. 

“Morning George!” Achilles called. 

“I can’t talk right now, young man. My favorite program is on.” 

Achilles, who strongly suspected Evelyn had overheard his conversation with the trio and was simply rescuing him from Lewis’ wrath, nevertheless wasn’t one to let an opportunity like this slide when it had been dropped so deftly into his lap. Even if he hated cutting vegetables. 

“Happy to help, I should be thanking you.” 

“Oh, nonsense, nonsense…” 

He joined her at the counter and began to peel the potatoes for the potato salad. With George’s scornful retorts safely out of the way, this seemed as good a time as any for the pursuit of Project #2. 

“Actually, Evelyn, this is perfect timing all around—I was hoping to ask you about the junimos. The forest spirits?” 

“Oh dear. Have you been spending more time with the Wizard?” Evelyn was pouring her batter into four separate tins. Those thin arms must’ve been packed with stringy muscle, the bowl was huge. 

“Hmm…” Achilles thought back to his most recent visit to the tower. “Not particularly. I’ve just been… seeing them around…” 

“Oh! Have you now?” She looked up from her pouring, her widened blue eyes beaming. “How nice that must be for you!”

“Yes, well, perhaps. They don’t… do much. I actually didn’t know what they were at first, but Alex suggested I ask you about them. He said you had been able to see them before?” 

“Oh yes. When I was your age, or perhaps a bit younger, the Valley was a different place. There was a… glow to it. A brightness to it all. Stardew was filled with those little forest spirits back then— junimos, you called them? Charming little things, I remember them well.” She smiled, thinking back to a simpler time. “Now, I always said, if I ran into one, I knew it was going to be a lucky day! 

“In fact, I saw two of them—a pink one and a green one—hopping through Cindersap the morning of my first ever date with George. He could never see them, but what a wonderful day that turned out to be!” She sighed, taking a minute to savor the memory before somberly shaking her head. “But as I grew older, they became scarcer and scarcer, and I’m afraid to say, dear, I haven’t seen them in quite a long time.” 

Evelyn paused to put the now-filled tins into the oven. “But if you’re seeing them, they must be allowing you to! What a special blessing—perhaps they will bring you good luck, too!” 

With the muffins now in the oven, she reached for the celery and began to swiftly dice the stalks, her smooth speed all but confirming she never needed Achilles’ help with the dishes. “Now you keep an eye out for the bad spirits, though, dear. I’ve never seen them, but I’d hear the rumors. 

“Sometimes, when I was a younger girl, I’d feel a bad smell in the air up by the mountain, something really rotten I knew to avoid. Now not to say you’ll feel them, too—I pray you never do, dear! But I do feel it my duty to warn you; if you’re seeing the forest spirits, I feel it’s best to be prepared for the unsavory sort as well.” 

At her words, a chill began to creep up Achilles’ spine as he remembered the purple smoke that had kept him captive in the Wizard’s tower—was it that same whisper he was suddenly hearing right now? He shook his head, and the voices faded to silence. Just your imagination… 

“But enough of that—I believe such things, good and bad, can be spoken into existence. Now pass those potatoes, please, dear!”

*****

“Stealing my grandparents, are you?” 

Achilles had arrived at the beach with Evelyn and George carrying a giant bowl of potato salad while George balanced 47 muffins in his lap (Achilles had eaten one—with Evelyn’s encouragement—before they left. It had ruined muffins for him, never would any baked good from Pierre’s, from even Hyacinthia’s award-winning bakeries, ever be able to match). 

“What can I say, they just like me more,” Achilles ribbed, placing the potato salad next to the ginormous fruit salad Alex and Haley had brought. “Nah, your grandma just took pity on me…” 

As with the previous festivals, the beach was fully decked out in decor. Totem poles ten feet tall had been dug into the sand while red and yellow flag pennants fluttered alongside string lights in the wind from above. Mats of giant leaves served as the dance floor—Robin and Demetrius were already jiving to a tropical song blasting from the speakers.

Four long tables clothed in gold and green had been set up in a rectangular formation on the beach, each straining under the weight of all the dishes that had been—and were continuing to be—arranged. In the center of them all was the largest pot Achilles had ever seen—so large, a ladder had been erected next to it for folks to add ingredients—and which was emitting a cacophony of scents. 

Alex followed his gaze. “That’s Stardew’s famous Luau Soup for you… four years ago everyone got super sick after drinking it, and I’ve never trusted it since. Not really sure why it’s still a thing… what’d you bring for it?” Right now, Penny was perched on the ladder preparing to drop something in from a cloth bag. 

“Shit, I was supposed to bring something for the soup, too?” 

“You didn’t bring something for the soup?” 

It wasn’t Alex, but—of course—a nearby Lewis who had just happened to overhear Achilles’ question. Before either boy could get a word in edgewise, the Mayor stalked over, pulling on his mustache. 

“This-is-the-most-important-dish-at-the-luau-how-could-you-forget?” 

Achilles straightened himself to his full 5’11” and looked Mayor Lewis squarely in the eye. 

“Bringing something for a soup wasn’t mentioned in the letter.” 

To be fair, him even reading the letter had been a complete accident, but Lewis didn’t need to know that. 

Unfortunately, the mayor was not one to be intimidated. He gave his moustache another yank before sticking his wrinkly finger straight into Achilles’ chest and declaring, “The tasting isn’t until noon—you’ve got two hours to get something.” 

Lewis’ fingernail was digging right through the linen of his button down, and Achilles had to force himself to take a breath before answering. Oh fuck you—

“Have you got a checklist, Lewis?” There was venom in Achilles’ voice now that he wasn’t bothering to disguise. “Just lurking about with a clipboard, making sure every member of this community contributes?” 

The mayor huffed and puffed before lowering his voice to a dangerously cold tone. “I’m looking out for you, Achilles. I want to introduce you to the governor. We need a good impression from you.” 

“And we’re going to get that from me dropping something into a giant ass pot? Does he have a checklist then?” 

“Language!” Lewis jabbed his finger again for stalking off. “Two hours!” 

“Goddammit… what’d you bring?” He looked at Alex, who had been silently bearing witness to the spat. 

“Uh… some tomatoes.” 

“I am not making the trek back to my farm for this…” 

Instead, similar to Lewis, he stalked away from Alex and made the exceedingly short walk to Elliott’s beachside cabin, giving the door a knock or two before letting himself inside. 

“Elliott, my dear, dear friend… Oh shit.” 

“Ah, Achilles!” Elliott, startled, jumped up from his kitchen table where he had been sitting next to Leah, the two apparently deep in conversation. 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt—”

“No, not a problem, my friend,” said Elliott, clasping his hand. “Please, how may I be of service?” 

Achilles shot Leah a quick glance before turning back to Elliott. 

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to bring something for this… soup… Mayor Lewis is watching me, don’t ask me why, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure he’s getting ready to prepare my eviction notice as we speak… what do people normally put in this thing?” 

“Ah! The soup. A rather ghastly tradition, if I may so—in fact, my very first year here, everyone had a terribly rotten time. Sick stomachs all around! Dear Dr. Harvey had quite a field day… But any ingredient you can think of, my friend! Part of the, allure, for lack of a better word I suppose, is the mystery surrounding this soup. Everyone brings an item, and then the governor takes a sip before we distribute to the crowds.” 

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” 

“I am glad to hear we are of one mind. I refuse to partake—and must bear the mayor’s wrath every year—but dear Leah over here has brought some raspberries.” 

“So does that mean I can’t bring raspberries?” 

Leah rolled her eyes and joined the two by the door. She opened the Tupperware she had been holding and dumped several berries into his hands. “You can bring literally anything Achilles, nobody gives a fuck. The tourists drink it all up.” 

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure.” 

“OK—thank you. Again, so sorry to disturb,” Achilles said, ending his sentence with a strange jerky little bow before scurrying out. 

He made sure to give the mayor a big show on his way back to the pot, staring unblinkingly at Lewis as he climbed the ladder at an exaggerated snail’s pace and hurled the berries with all his might into the soup. 

Lewis, to his credit, also refused to break eye contact throughout this little performance of Achilles’, and in fact proceeded to beckon aggressively once he had made his way down from the ladder. 

But Achilles chose to respond with a cheery wave and teeth-baring smile, before turning and heading back towards the grills instead, where Alex, a brown Stardrop Saloon apron tied haphazardly around his waist, and Maru were chopping up burger and hot dog toppings ahead of what would likely be the lunch rush in an hour or so. 

“Burger duty?” Achilles asked, conveniently placing himself so that he’d be in Alex’s line of sight and out of Lewis’. 

“Every year, baby!” Alex looked up from his methodically diced onions. The lime green of his Tunnelers cap seemed to brighten his eyes just a tinge, adding just yet another level of mischief to their usual gleam. “You hungry? The line gets pretty crazy once all the tourists start arriving around noon.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” 

“You sure? I’ve got other things, too if you don’t want a burger or a hot dog right now…” Alex bent down to dig through the shelves that had been erected for the event. He popped his head back up, lifting the cap to run a hand messily through his hair. Achilles couldn’t help but squirm slightly in his sneakers. Perhaps it was the heat… and the sand…

“Want an egg?” 

“Well, I can never say no to an egg.” Achilles looked briefly away from Alex, who had cocked his head like an overeager beagle in response. “Over easy?” 

“One over easy egg, coming right up!” 

With one hand, Alex deftly cracked the egg onto the grill, his arms flexing ever so slightly with the movement. It was all too much. Achilles was transfixed, eyes continuing to follow the veins in Alex’s hands as they tossed the shells into a nearby bucket, and it took Penny’s nudge to break the spell. 

“Hmm?” 

“You’re drooling, Achilles.” 

“Like hell I am,” Achilles grumbled, but he surreptitiously wiped his mouth just in case. “In my defense, I’ve had very little to eat today.” 

“Hey, same—you know, I always like to starve myself the day before so I can leave room for ALL THIS DELICIOUS FOOD.” With a howl, Alex flipped the egg a foot into the air, letting it hit the grill with a bit of a splat. 

“That’s not healthy at all,” Maru said drily, looking up from the tomatoes she was cutting with significantly less gusto. 

*****

He would’ve stayed and chatted with Alex and the troublemaking trio for the rest of the luau if he could (Maru had traded places with Sam after being accosted by her father over a matter of “scientific importance” and had left for the boardwalk), but since he was also determined to stay away from Lewis, he had been forced to change up his plans. 

Luckily, it was Elliott who gave him his preemptive escape—his friend had sidled over with Leah and invited him to walk with them just as Lewis had begun to make his way over to the grills. 

“I’ll save you a burger!” Alex called as the three left, Achilles half-pushing Elliott to walk faster ahead as Lewis began to also increase his walking speed. 

“Oh dear! I didn’t mean to pull you away from young Alex—” Misinterpreting Achilles’ heightened urgency, Elliott began to turn back. 

“No worries, no worries, just go.” Achilles gave Elliott another, less gentle shove, tripping slightly over the back of Leah’s boots. At 6’5”, Elliott was pretty much a lightning rod for Lewis’ searching gaze. 

The tourists had begun to arrive in droves, however, which made it much easier to disappear into a crowd. Folks were piling their plates sky high. Damn, not even an entry fee? Achilles thought to himself, given that most tourists didn’t seem to be contributing anything to the potluck, though Achilles noticed the soup remained untasted and untouched for now. 

Thanks to Alex’s swim lessons, Achilles had no hesitations now racing towards the water. Together, they made their way to the boardwalk, where a separate little crowd had formed. Rather shamelessly pushing his way through to the front, Achilles found Maru surrounded by a multitude of different colored bottles and sheets of paper and pens which she was passing out to the tourists. 

Catching Achilles eye, she waved him, Elliott, and Leah over. 

“Helping out the ye olde parental figure with his latest science experiment—you know, the usual,” Maru began with a good natured roll of her eyes. “He’s conducting an experiment on the currents of the Gem Sea.” 

She held up one of the bottles—a purple one, semi opaque—and gave it a little tap. “Going to be throwing these into the sea later today. Hopefully in the upcoming months we’ll see when and where they eventually turn up—they’re actually made out of that polycarbonate I told you about last season, Achilles.” 

“Oh! Nice, did you get the patent?” He took the offered bottle and gave it his own experimental tap before handing it to Leah who conducted a much closer examination. 

Maru beamed. “I did! The material is nontoxic and won’t shatter, so it should be safer for wildlife than a typical glass bottle, and there’s not anything that’ll leach into the water.” 

Elliott tutted in hearty approval. “Absolutely fantastic—what a wonder you are, Miss Maru!” 

A small blush appeared on Maru’s cheeks. Achilles couldn’t help but look around to make sure Demetrius wasn’t anywhere nearby. The last thing they needed was the man falsely believing some 33 year old, unemployed beach bum in a ratty red blazer was flirting with his precious daughter. 

Maru coughed. “Well, anyway—I just thought I’d make the experiment a little more fun and everything with the luau, if you three are interested in participating?”  

They nodded, and she eagerly handed each of them two sheets of paper along with a pen. 

“The smaller card is the science stuff—most of it’s filled out already, but if you want to see what and how we’re recording, it’s all there. And then the second sheet is whatever you want it to be! You can write a letter, draw a picture, maybe even leave a phone number—any kind of message in a bottle you want to leave for whoever eventually, well… finds your bottle. Thought maybe it’d be fun, turn it into a pen pal sort of thing!” She shrugged, seemingly suddenly a little embarrassed by her enthusiasm. “Or, I don’t know, maybe that’s boring… but the folks so far seem to find it fun… anyway, just come back and give them to me when you’re done!” 

After assuring her it was a good idea, the three swiftly made their way back through the crowd to a rare empty space by the edge of the boardwalk. Leah, unsatisfied with the two inch wooden strip railing, instead had Elliott turn around and used his broad back as an easel for whatever picture she was inevitably choosing to draw. 

The man instantly turned scarlet, though of course from her new vantage point, Leah couldn’t see. Achilles on the other hand, gave him a squirrelly nod before leaving Elliott to write, also inevitably, what was likely to be an incredibly long winded letter.

Achilles, however, wasn’t quite sure what he’d do. What were messages in bottles typically used for? Love letters? That was a thing, right? He thought of Alex at the grill, arms bare from under his white UMF tank top, that baseball cap jauntily tilted just a few degrees to the side, laughing at even the most awful of Achilles’ jokes… 

There were other options, too, of course. He had forgotten the most obvious reason behind messages in bottles—distress signals. SOS. Cries for help and the like… 

At that thought, he was, with a flip of his stomach, reminded of a intoxicated night on a boardwalk and a beach and a sea. He obviously hadn’t written a note then—nobody, including himself, had thought that night was going to end the way that it did, but note or no note, it had most definitely been a night of distress. 

His pen was raised half a centimeter above the page. Perhaps it’d be cathartic to finally put those thoughts—the anxiety, the hopelessness, the frustration, all still stewing inside him—to page. 

Eva did always recommend journaling, didn’t she? 

His old therapist—surely it wouldn’t hurt to revisit some old exercises. 

But he was doing better now, right? Sure, relapses were a thing, but as a whole, Summer had so far been… nice. At least, compared to the end of Spring. Swim lessons and museum visits and other small tasks had kept him… somewhat busy. Why dwell on the past like that when there were brighter, if more mindless and silly, thoughts to share with the fish? Thinking back to what Evelyn had only said this morning about the spirits—why risk speaking anything distressing into existence? Even at the thought of it all, he felt a stir in the whispering voice at the back of his mind. 

Oh, but it wouldn’t hurt to get it all out, right? Even if he was past it. Which he definitely was. Right? 

He spent another five minutes wrestling between the two ideas. Why did it even matter which he chose, who the hell was ever even going to read this? A quick glance to his right notified him that Elliott (whose handwriting was neatly cramped and probably half the size of Achilles’) had already fill out the whole front side—geeze. Fine, if he was going to be like that—not that it was a competition… Achilles made his decision, put his pen to the page, and began to write. 

*****

He had only just turned the assigned materials to “Miss Maru” when Lewis, his face an intriguing shade of plum Achilles had never seen in a person, finally caught up to him. Gripping his shoulder with what must have been the combined might of all the mayors before him, Lewis dragged him away from a bewildered Elliott, Leah, and Maru. Off the boardwalk they went, across the sand, and back towards the festival entrance where a large, equally mustachioed man stood bedecked in a vibrant shade of purple not unlike the color of Abigail’s hair. 

“Governor.” Lewis cleared his throat and gave Achilles a slightly pointed smack on the shoulder, not that Achilles’ perfect posture needed the encouragement. “I would like to introduce you to young Achilles Robinson, our newest resident here Stardew Valley. He recently moved into old Dan Robinson’s farm—his father is, of course, Perry Robinson, I’m sure you remember him, and his mother Apolline Desrosiers. We are delighted to have him join our wonderful community here in Stardew!” 

Ah… Hoping to look good in front of the Governor, huh Mr. Mayor? 

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Achilles said taking the Governor’s pudgy hand. It may have been sweaty, but the Governor’s eyes were kind—much kinder than Lewis’ beady little things at any rate. 

“Ah, young Achilles! I knew your father and grandfather well, he was a good farmer and an even better man, I was sorry to hear of his loss. I hope you’ll be following in his footsteps? This county could use some more locally grown produce!” 

Achilles shook his head somberly, biting down on his lip to prevent the smile threatening to break through when he caught site of Lewis’ impressive nostril flair. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a farmer—”

“—oh, but he’s found ways to support the community in a multitude of other ways,” Lewis said, rushing in. “He made a generous donation to help fix the old mining carts, you know, and together we’re working on rebuilding the museum and library.” 

Together, huh? 

“As you can see,” Lewis continued, “The Valley truly is a vibrant place that’s continuing to grow and attract such wonderful young people, and I do believe that you should reconsider—”

“It’s always a joy to visit Stardew Valley,” said the Governor, interrupting Lewis with admirable ease. “I take it you’ve liked your time here?” 

Armed with his brightest, smarmiest, most obviously sycophantic smile, Achilles threw an around around a visibly fuming Lewis’ shoulders. “Oh yes, the Valley has been wonderful. Of course, we’re all indebted to our Mayor here—over 20 years, I’ve heard, hasn’t it been?” 

“Oh. Well yes, yes… why, always unopposed…” Lewis’ halfhearted attempt at modesty was halting. 

The governor chuckled. “Well it was good meeting you, Achilles. Now go run along, no need to stay here with us stuffy old gents any longer. Perhaps, Lewis, we should move forward with the Luau?” 

Achilles didn’t need to be told twice, scurrying away back to Alex and Penny at the grill as the governor and Lewis together made their way to the giant pot in the center of the beach. 

“Sucking up to the governor, I see.” 

“Alex, let me tell you, I’m not the one doing any of the sucking there…” Achilles hopped deftly onto the edge of the table. The line for burgers had temporarily dwindled down; most folks were now either on the dance floor or hitting the water. 

“Figures… Hey, you want that burger now?” 

At that moment, Lewis took to a small stage that had been set up next to the giant pot of soup and picked up a microphone. 

“In a second, I want to see what the fuck is the deal with this soup.”

Alex barked a laugh and set his spatula to the side, wiping his hands on his apron. “Right-o.” 

Lewis gave the microphone a few shrieking taps and then began. “Well folks, it’s time once again for the potluck ceremony. I trust that you all put high-quality ingredients in the pot this year—Carl, you heard me! You better not’ve put in that eggplant dip again—we don’t want the governor to regret his visit to the valley!”

The crowd chuckled politely as the governor (and Carl, wherever he was) shook his head in mock consternation.  

“Well… Governor? Would you do us the honor of tasting the soup?” 

“Of course,” the governor said, moving forward. “I’ve been looking forward to this all year.” 

“Wow, no taster or anything, hmm? Could be a pretty straightforward assassination method, shame Lewis doesn’t taste it first,” Achilles murmured as Penny and Alex, who had leaned closer to better hear, held back snorts. “Al, didn’t you say people got sick once?”  

Penny laughed lightly, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Oh, it was awful… and we never caught the culprit. Lewis had always believed it was a tourist, but some of us have our suspicions…” Her eyes darted about the crowd. 

The governor made his way precariously up the sagging ladder, a ladle in hand. When he reached the top, he spooned a boldly large spoonful and gulped it down without hesitation. 

A pregnant pause. All eyes were on the governor. 

“Ah…”

The governor set the ladle down. 

“That’s a very pleasant soup. The produce from Zuzu never disappoints!” 

“I put in a cheese that I’m 95% sure came from Castle Village,” Penny whispered. 

“Now, who else wants some soup!” Lewis, all smiles now, waved a new ladle from atop the ladder as the townsfolk and tourists began to line up. 

*****

Alex was still on burger duty, which was beginning to pick back up (poor guy doesn’t get a break, huh?), so Achilles left to, despite his better judgement, grab a small bowlful of the mysterious potluck soup. He was now standing under the shade on a mat of palm fronds waiting for Elliott and Leah who were grabbing their own bowls, when Abigail joined him. 

“Once, like four or five few years ago, Sam and I dropped a pufferfish in. Straight up wrecked everyone.” 

Achilles immediately lowered his spoon back into his bowl. “Aren’t pufferfish… poisonous?” 

“Yeah…” Though Abigail didn’t look quite as remorseful as her tone may have tried to suggest. “We thought it’d be better than anchovies… hey, in our defense, we didn’t realize it would be that bad… like, nobody died… or had any longstanding health issues or whatever, so all’s well that ends well, right?” 

Achilles raised his eyebrows, unwilling to swallow the tiny mouthful of soup he had spooned before this revelation. 

“Don’t worry, we just put in some onions this year,” she said, watching him slosh the soup between his cheeks as if it could weed out any potential poisons. “Now,” Abigail leaned closer in and lowered her voice, “Nobody except Seb knows it was us though, so don’t say anything.” 

In an unusual turn of events (after assuring Abigail he wasn’t a snitch), he caught Shane trying to catch his eye from across the dance floor. He pointed to himself quizzically to confirm (when did Shane ever want to chat?), and received an urgent, almost conspiratorial, beckoning wave in response. 

Saying farewell to Abigail—although he wasn’t sure if she heard him, as Sebastian and Sam had arrived with plates heaping with food—Achilles navigated his way through the crowd over to Shane, who was now wearing his JojaMart polo, the bright blue cap clutched in his thick fingers. 

“What in the world have you got that on for?” Achilles asked, waving aside the beer Shane was offering him. 

“Gotta leave for a shift in 15,” he grunted. “Damn store doesn’t close during the holiday—doesn’t close any time, they’re open pretty much 24 hours every day in the Summer because of all these fuckin’ tourists…” 

“Ahh… I’m sorry about that.” Achilles took a seat on the wicker chairs, ready to give the man a much needed comforting pat on the back, just as Shane began to stand. 

From above his blue collar, Shane’s neck had turned slightly red, as Achilles realized it was oft to do when he was about to ask for even the smallest favor. Also in typical Shane fashion, the man turned his gaze to the ground. 

“Wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on Jas after I head out—Marnie’s a little… distracted.” his eyes wavered over at the bushy haired woman who was already rather red in the face, one hand grasping the stem of a cocktail glass, the other touching Lewis’ arm as she laughed heartily at a joke Achilles refused to believe warranted any level of teeth showing. 

“Hmm? Sure, no problem.” Jas, easy to find due to her purple hair, was currently down by the shore with Vincent. 

“She’ll probably stick close to him, and Jodi’s watching of course, but, ya know… just in case. Can never have too many eyes out, especially with all these strangers out here.” He glanced around, his eyes rimmed with red and suspicion alike. 

“Yeah, of course. No worries, I’ll make sure she gets back before dark.” 

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” 

*****

After a few hours spent chatting with Elliott and Leah, the sun had begun to set. Rather than wait for the tiki torches to be lit, Achilles made for Jas who was still splashing in the shallows with Vincent (Marnie had since disappeared…). 

“Hey Jas. I think it’s time we head back to the ranch.” 

She stopped mid-splash to glance distrustingly up at him. “Who are you?” 

It took a concerted effort not to roll his eyes. “I’m—”

“I’m just yanking your chain.” Definitely must’ve learned that phrase at home. “You’re Uncle Shane’s friend, the farmer man. Okay. Let’s go.” She reached for his hand and began to lead the way. “Bye Vincent.” 

Didn’t need much persuading, huh, Achilles thought to himself. Jas’ hand was small and damp in his, but she led with youthful confidence. At her touch, something ached ever so slightly in his chest—as the second oldest cousin of six, he had always (to some people’s surprise) liked children, though being an only child, he’d had no nieces or nephews. 

“Do you want to grab some leftovers?” he asked her as they neared the potluck tables, still laden with a fair amount of food. 

“Okay.” 

He grabbed her a plate and she reached for a few lukewarm hot dogs. “Why is your hair like that?” she asked suddenly, pointing at the streak in his hair. He was surprised she could make it out in the orange light. “You don’t look old enough to be going grey.” 

“Why is your hair like that?” he shot back at her. “You don’t look old enough to be going purple.” 

Jas giggled, as Achilles continued. “I got hit in the head hard as a kid, so you better be careful or the same will happen to you.” 

“You smell like grass.” 

“All right, well you smell like seaweed.” Achilles scratched his head. “You ready to go now?” 

He glanced around the beach again, but Marnie was still nowhere to be found. Neither, he noticed, was Lewis… 

“Hey, Achilles!”

Both him and Jas turned—Alex was tossing a volleyball between his hands. 

“You wanna play a round with Sam, Abigail, and I? We need one more.” 

“Ahh…” Oh he wanted to, that was for sure, but… “I can’t, gotta take this one back.” 

“You can play with Mr. Alex if you want,” Jas said, accompanying her somber nod with a clumsy pirouette. “I don’t mind.” 

A better wingman than your Uncle, Achilles wanted to say, but he shook his head instead, just as Alex strolled closer, bouncing the ball with his forearms. “It’s okay, Jas. I told your Uncle I’d get you back before dark.” 

“Oh, I see—babysitting duty, huh?” Alex knelt to offer Jas a high five. “Now Jas, you better take good care of Achilles, okay? Make sure he brushes his teeth and is in bed before 9.” She giggled as he stood back up, tucking the ball under his arm. “Well we might still be here for a bit if you come back. If not, I better see you Saturday, all right?” 

*****

It was over a half hour walk through Cindersap Forest with Jas determined to stop at every other rock or river to look for crawdads and roll polys and the like. While a part of him wanted to tell her to pick up the pace so he could maybe head back to the beach, Achilles forced himself to knock that bubbling impatience aside, instead joining her in her quest for to identify every species of bug they came across. 

Finally, they reached the ranch. But a knock on the door was met with silence. 

“You haven’t got a key, have you?” he said, looking down in the shadows at the pigtailed girl. She shook her head and took it upon herself to send a hailstorm of tiny fists down upon the door. 

He sighed, prepared to bring her back to his own cottage if needed, when a breathless Marnie wrenched open the front door, her hair rather askew and… to Achilles’ discomfort, her blouse unbuttoned incorrectly. 

“Achilles! Ah! Thanks very much for bringing Jas back.” 

“Bye Mr. Robinson, thank you for bringing me home.” Without even a second glance, Jas sprinted into the house straight for her bedroom. 

“I’m happy to take her back to my place if you’re… busy…” 

“Huh? Oh—no, no. Everything’s good here. Thank ya again!” With an abruptness that rivaled Jas’ unceremonious exit, Marnie shut the door with a goodbye. 

There was an empty sort of hollow in his chest, now that he found himself alone under cover of dusk. But figuring that nobody in their right mind would be playing beach volleyball now that it was this dark out (and would be even darker by the time he arrived back at the beach), Achilles shook off his solitude with just the tiniest sigh and made his way back to Strawberry Farms.

[aroace-poly-show]

follow up to my last oc rant: im gonna cover weiss and jex here since im brain rotting about them again sigh

also i tried my best with the sort of worldbuilding dont come for me if its not great this was for fun

jex’s illness specifically was inspired by this fictional disease thing i saw on pinterest and im so sad bc i didnt save it so i cant link it FUCK anyway specifically it was heavily inspired by the ink cough one. essentially jex’s body pretty much starts to slowly fail on them. throughout the life of one affected by this, they’ll slowly become weaker and weaker, getting sick much more easily (and those sicknesses tend to affect them much worse), having more and more violent coughing fits, being unable to heal very quickly/properly/more prone to infections, and blood from any injuries gets darker overtime, eventually becoming black. a lot of people often become eventually paralyzed. nearly everyone who has it has their expected lifespan cut incredibly short. those rare people that live longer spend their last days pretty much suffering. (no one really knows what causes it, theres rumors that it was a curse from an old dead god, placed upon the world in their final breath.. 👀 hehe)

stress tends to trigger jex’s cough but its not ink its like blackened blood. while they do tend to cough occasionally just in general, stressful situations will trigger a really really bad coughing fit, its worse depending how distressing it is to jex.

oh, and i forgot to mention!! weiss also has a sort of condition!! basically whenever they have an injury that draws blood, flowers will bloom from them. these flowers often help the wound to heal faster than if they weren’t there!! weiss was always fascinated by this, and (!!!possible tw: sh!!!) !!!sometimes would get hurt on purpose to draw blood and see the flowers bloom. its pretty cool having basically blood flowers that help you heal faster...until its like an internal injury then theyre an absolutely fucking pain in the ass to deal with.

so, weiss and jex were childhood best friends. they’ve been best friends foreverrr (and now romantic partners <3) since the one time jex fell out of a tree like a foot away from where weiss was messing with mechanical stuff. how fun!! jex had pretty much hopped out the window of their house after their caretaker left their room for like 2 seconds to grab their tea (which they absolutely fucking despise). before weiss can even say anything jex is just like “OOOOO WHATS THAT OMG” and just. fucking grabs the lil mechanical thing weiss was messing with.

weiss got pissed off at first bc “hey who are you why are you touching my stuff??” but then was overjoyed at the opportunity to infodump about her machines and stuff. boom now theyre besties. weiss used to help jex sneak out all the time. jex absolutely loved weiss for this, she was helping them live their childhood and god they’d do anything for her already.

weiss learned why jex had to stay inside all the time but it never really hit her until she actually witnessed one of their coughing fits. jex’s parents flipped the fuck out and weiss saw the amount of panic from them. jex had always played it off as it not being a big deal but seeing them struggle to just fucking breathe really shook weiss. the next time weiss saw them she made a promise that she’d find a way to help her, no matter what.

jex just kind of went along with that promise not thinking it was gonna be a serious thing, but weiss took that promise very seriously. she started focusing less on her interest in mechanical things and focused entirely on studying to help jex out. unfortunately…it resulted in them starting to drifting apart. jex was kept at home more especially since there wasn’t anyone to help them sneak out. eventually weiss hears about this group working towards learning more about their world, pretty much just scientists. she hears about one of their goals to help heal those illness that keep taking lives and she immediately fucking joins. goddamn shes excited!!! she can finally help her best friends!!! if only she read the fine print…sigh

so the group she joins, fucking sucks. very unethical experiments and projects but uh oh!! it seems theyre working with the shitty corrupt people that have wayyy too much power for anyone to do anything major about. so uh oh!!! no one’s coming to sue their asses!!! how sad for these (non)human lab rats :(

weiss had no idea about it at the beginning until shes offered a higher position in an important project, and she takes it bc she was told theyre working on the exact illness that jex has!! so of course shes gonna take that opportunity!! but unfortunately shes gonna be even busier, and jex wasnt happy about it. they already barely get to se weiss, and now they might not see them at all? theyre kind of hurt, and feel like shes treating them the same as their parents did. not letting them live the life they do have, just focusing on trying to extend it. it results in an argument between them, with weiss storming out. weiss didnt really get it, why would jex be upset??? shes trying to save them??? the fuck is their problem??? but she brushes it off and goes to start her new project, yay...

shes totally having a great time until she finds out just how far theyre willing to go “for research” (theyre really just pretentious fucking assholes who are basically torturing people and using “but science!!!” as an excuse). girl witnesses them recruiting fucking CHILDREN for these experiments and nopes the fuck out. and steals a child in the process. oopsies!! (she returned that kid to their parents and told them to get the fuck outta here) unfortunately!! they dont take kindly to people who know too much leaving their little group!! especially ones that also steal their lab rats!! uh oh!!

so weiss goes to see jex in the middle of the night, scares the everloving shit out of them, scares them EVEN MORE after she explains her situation, and they make up really quick and go on the run together!! how sweet!! (they make up properly later, weiss said sorry like a million times <3)

nowadays they travel around under new identities (their current names are the new identities btw i just refer to them in the past with the same name for simplicity [*cough* i didnt come up with previous names.. *cough*]). they visit bars and jex often does little perfomances and magic tricks there! if anyone's up to it, jex'll have a little spar with someone as well. they get by asking for tips for their performances. they often move from town to town, but they're fairly happy together <3 weiss is still looking around for any leads on possible solutions to jex's condition though, its how she got to know dorian. they crossed paths once and dorian was more than happy to help with her goal!! jex is here mostly to just enjoy themselves with their beloved. <3

notes:

jex fucking LOVES spicy food. doesn't matter how spicy it is, doesn't care how much they always end up coughing afterward, they will eat any kind of spicy food they'll see at any restaurant. (weiss has to beg them not to eat too much otherwise they'll be coughing for hours)

i think about them alot to "if i could ride a bike" - park bird/chevy , specifically in a modern setting. i love them dearly

i ended up writing...way more.. than i thought i had oh my god?? pls i originally did them first bc i thought they had a lot less but..jesus fucking christ man;;

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 258

Mamma Mia/Face the Raven

“Mamma Mia”

Plot Description: a reluctant Dean brings Mary along on a mission to rescue Sam. Crowley receives word that Lucifer has possessed the body of an aging rock star

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: this has to be some kind of mind trickery…there’s no way Sam’s fucking the lady from London…unless. Unless? That’s what he meant by telling her “screw you” over and over last episode. Oh. No one died

Omgggg Dean opening up to Cas about how weird it is to have Mary back, I’m losing my mind ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Ohhhh, Dean gets his guilt complex from his mom

I KNEW it! I knew this wasn’t real. I knew Sam was hallucinating that whole thing

Can she STOP seemingly killing Sam FOR FIVE MINUTES??

Love Rowena scamming this guy, making up a backstory about being a prima ballerina. She can do whatever she wants forever. Stop getting in the way of her getting that man’s bread, Crowley!!

I was gonna say I can’t believe Lucifer came all the way to Cleveland but…actually I can. That seems like a thing that would happen here. Of course he showed up as this rock star’s dead girlfriend to get him to say yes to possession

Dammit Crowley, let her have this. At the same time, Rowena, I’m sure you can find another old rich guy with limited time left in earth to scam. You are hot af, girl, let this one go. Don’t get wrapped up in Crowley’s schemes

Ah damn, she got Dean…

Oh, Ro Ro, I can’t believe you let your son drag you into this again

Oooo, just a smidge of body horror on my lunch break? Getting very um…end of chapter 349 vibes, and it’s concerning to me

Not to say spn should kill off another woman, but they’re spending a whole lot of time not shooting London lady

Aw, Mary’s adjusting. She’s figuring out modern life ❤️ and her boys are helping her

Noooooo, dammit, Lucifer’s keeping Rowena prisoner now. She spends so much time fighting for her freedom…I’m so mad this is happening to her

Legitimately crying at this scene between Sam and Mary.

God…as much as Dean tries to be like his father in many ways, he’s also JUST like his mom. I wish they’d just come together to talk it out instead of going through photos and John’s journal separately

“Face the Raven”

Plot Description: The Doctor and Clara find themselves in an alien world, hidden on a street in London

At least today I know if there’s no picture, there’s something wrong (oh good, there’s picture)

Oh shit! Is this one of the kids she’d nanny for before?? He seems too old to be, but what do I know? I’m just sayin I can’t imagine her giving any student but the girl she took to the moon the TARDIS’s phone number

Oh!! Oh wait! This is the guy from when there was an alien turning people 2D!! Ok ok that…it’s been a while since he’s been here

They only have like 6.5 hours to save Rigsy??

When you’ve read enough John Green to immediately get what Clara’s saying when she starts talking about trap streets on maps

Ooooo, is that like a maroon velvet blazer the Doctor is wearing?? Maybe not

Did he say FIFTY MINUTES LEFT?!

Not Arya is back! And she’s the one who sentenced Rigsy to death

Ok, so…the budget for this episode is very weird. First, there’s a whole huge set that is very reminiscent of a certain hidden street from [fandom redacted] where many different alien species have gathered as refugees…HOWEVER, the street lamps cause everyone to be undercover in a facade of the viewer’s own normal experiences. Sometimes there’s a glitch, and you can bypass the illusion (so we briefly see an Ood giving medical-ish attention to a cyberman), but it mostly feels like how spn makes all its monsters look like people

Clara don’t you dare. Don’t you dare try to take the death sentence from him. I mean, it’s…your plan isn’t necessarily the WORST, but it’s hella risky

Is that just subtle bi Clara confirmation? Talking about her relationship to Jane Austen and saying “god, I love her. Take that how you like”

Oof. She has GOT to stop making deals with random aliens. She nearly ripped reality apart last time she did. She opened a portal to a different dimension. Now, she’s making deals to keep this street safe in exchange for the Doctor??

I’m not okay with this goodbye between Clara and the Doctor. I’m very distraught. I’m gonna miss them together.

There’s something extra cruel about making the Doctor watch his best friend die right in front of his eyes

Oh of COURSE it’s a “to be continued…” ending. You know…at least I SORT OF got what I wanted. One self contained episode, and now not a two parter. This seems to be a THREE parter

[wandering-witch-boy]

Yeah actually I totally agree about the snobbery it did feel a little like spinning tires deeper and not moving anywhere, but for a place Peter was so proud of, proud of his sister and his fathers, it also felt really fucking weird Victoria would deliver a line like don’t fuck up ? Like they’ve always had a relationship borne from mutual necessity but Al Ewing made it seem like they’d healed and spent time together off screen, these current writers seem desperate to push the narrative that Peter is a fuck up that ruins everything? And it just feels like we’re going back to that post infinity war mindset again which was really fucking annoying and on a better note I can’t believe I didn’t realise they were moebius hats they totally are I love that, makes me think of classic starlord Sparta designs with Jason of Sparta, the bendis run seemed to base J’son’s outfits on sci-fi Brit gear too I do get kinda tired of every empire out there having British design inspiration. Og sparta stuff was really cool between classic star lord comics designs that showed up again in the annihilation conquest stories, Al Ewings morinus designs that look very Flash Gordon and these more Moebius designs I’m liking how spartax is shaping up, makes me want to doodle some turntables for Spartoi citizens based on that kind of clothing

Edit: ooooo I nearly forgot the spartax soldiers from the Inhumans book are among my absolute favourites as well ! That sort of medieval knight mixed with Spartan and actually moebius a little in the helmet too are among my favourite designs for spartax wish we could see them again !

Only 3 issues in and 2023 GotG is already challenging the Bendis run for the worst GotG run.

[soft--dragon]

Blueshells and Belly Laughs

Based off of this prompt here

Word Count: 1,390

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

“Aaaaaand WINNER!” Dream whooped loudly, throwing his arms up into the air in glee.

“You bastard!” Came Wilbur’s yell of annoyance, his character on the screen passing the finish line seconds after Dream’s. He rounded on the hoodie donned man who was grinning madly and pointed an accusing finger. “Cheated. You bloody cheated.”

Dream gave a snort, lightly slapping away Wilbur’s hand and clicking the buttons on his controller to set up the next race. “You’re just a sore loser, my god. No wonder you and George get along so well.”

“You haven’t lost a single game, what the fuck,” Wilbur grouched. “Do you just never go outside and waste your time playing this shitty game?”

“Firstly rude, I do go out, I’ll have you know,” Dream rolled his eyes. “And it’s not shitty, you just suck at it.” Dream selected a new racetrack and gave Wilbur a side eye. “You done bitching so you can get your ass kicked again?”

Wilbur hunched his shoulders inwards and snatched his discarded controller off the cushions once more. “I regret meeting up with you.”

Dream wheezed loudly, clicking on the track and settling into his Gamer Pose™ on his side of the couch. “Uh huh, and you call Tommy a child.”

“At least Tommy doesn’t throw blue shells at me and call me an old bitch,” Wilbur reached over on instinct and jabbed Dream’s side like he did with his little brother. 

Dream instantly flinched with a muffled noise, kicking Wilbur’s foot in response. “T-That sounds like something he would do,” he shot back, eyes forward on the screen. The slight wobble in his voice peaked Wilbur’s interest, drawing the brunette’s eye back to him.

Dream’s gaze was solely on the screen, a small smile on his face and brows scrunched to his eyes. Wilbur noted there was a faint pinkness in his face. Odd. 

Dream suddenly flicked his eyes over and rolled them with a smug grin. “Oi, I know I’m pretty but get your eyes forward, we’ve started.” 

Wilbur jolted and quickly scrambled to hit the right buttons, his kart boosting forwards on the track. “Fuck fuck- why didn't you say anything?!” He yelped, trying to catch up to Dream who was a natural speed demon and had climbed to first in seconds. 

Dream cackled. “Snooze you lose Wil,” he taunted, “maybe if you didn’t try to spy on how I play, then you’ll know when it actually begins.”

Wilbur shot him a glare, button smashing and hurling the green shells he picked up forwards in hopes they’d throw the other characters off. “Shut up you green motherfucker.” 

“Ooooo, someone’s getting sassy~” A blue shell suddenly swung by and smashed Wilbur’s kart to the side, an instinctual yell of outrage bursting from the British man. Dream cackled, his character speeding past his own destruction. “Take that you old bitch!”

“I’M THREE YEARS OLDER THAN YOU!”

“AND YET YOU DRIVE LIKE YOU’RE SIXTY!” 

Wilbur reached out instinctively again and jabbed Dream’s exposed side, freezing a bit at Dream’s yelp and what sounded to be a muffled giggle.

“Hey! Hands to yourself,” Dream smacked away his fingers, quickly returning back to his controller when a Blooper swung in front of him and sprayed ink all over his screen.

Wilbur, however, couldn’t care less about the ink blinding his character as well. All his attention was now on the new found weakness to his friend. He grinned wide and mischievous, throwing caution to the wind as his fingers were already lunging back into Dream’s sensitive midsection. 

“HEHEhehey! Wil! Whahat the fuck ahAre you dohoing?!” Dream spluttered, instantly letting one hand go off his controller to try and shove Wilbur’s wiggling digits away, his character veering off course as a result. 

“Aw c’mon Dream,” Wilbur spoke sweetly though his eyes had become playfully dark. “What happened to that winning streak? Look, baby Bowser has pulled ahead of you now!”

Dream gasped and laughed harder as Wilbur’s hand scoped out the weak spot on his lower back, pinching and scribbling mercilessly. “Wihihihil! Lehehet gohoho fohohor fuhuhucks sahahake!” 

“Aww noooo, you’ve dropped to fourth Dream! You’re never gonna win at this rate,” Wilbur cooed in faux sadness, “And you’re so good at this game too, imagine how sad it would be to lose.”

Dream wheezed, managing to grab onto Wilbur’s wrist and went to shove him away. “Okahahay! Okahahay Ihihihi gehehet ihihit! Stohohopihihit!” He pleaded, giggling so much it was almost incoherent. 

“You get it? Get what? I’m not even doing anything,” Wilbur dropped his controller, ignoring the game to fully scribble into Dream’s belly.

Dream shrieked at the top of his lungs at that, his own controller dropping to the carpet as he scrambled back to get away. “WIHIHIHIL!”

Wilbur cackled, leaping for the man and tackling him down to the cushions, his hands plunging into the fabric of his hoodie to squeeze, scribble and spider into sensitive skin. Dream arched his back high in wild squeals of laughter, his face fully red now with a large smile spread across his lips. 

“Oh, are you ticklish Dream? Is that what’s wrong?” He teased meanly, poking along the man’s ribs and worming nimble fingers into the grooves in-between. 

Dream squirmed into the couch cushions madly, wheezes breaking between each fit of giggles at the rush of ticklish sensations. “WihiHIHIHIlbuhuhur! Ihihit- Ihihi cahahan’t stahahand thihihis!” He whined, pressing his hands to Wilbur’s chest and trying to shove him off only for his armpits to be drilled into, making him throw his head back in laughter.

Wilbur clicked his tongue mockingly, not the least bit sympathetic. “Aw, well you shouldn’t have gotten so cocky Dweam, I’m afraid you did this to yourself.”

“FUHUHUCK OHOHOFF YOHOHOU DIHIHICKHEHEAD!”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Such a nasty mouth too, golly, it’s a wonder no one’s done this sooner.” 

He yanked up Dream’s hoodie so he could claw his fingers straight onto bare skin, and the scream the sounded out made it sound like Dream was getting murdered. 

“OHOHO NOHOHOHO- WIHIHIL! PLEHEHEASE NOHOHOT THAHAHAT!” The man howled, flailing wildly in hysterics at the sensations. 

Wilbur’s eyes lit up and he giggled a bit himself. “Awww, the Manhunt King’s got a ticklish tummy? A sensitive stomach? A buzzy belly?”

The teasing sent a rush of warmth up Dream’s neck and he buried his face into his hands, snorts peppering between his laughter. “YOHOHOU’RE SUHUHUCH AHAHA PRIHIHICK!” 

The tickling lasted a few minutes longer, Wilbur finding all the sensitive spots quickly and making Dream just about scream with laughter, the man reduced to a puddle of giggles by the time Wilbur had settled to just tracing his nails over his trembling belly. 

The brunette then placed his hands on Dream’s lower belly, feeling the muscles quiver instinctively and let out a laugh. “Relax Dream, I’m done for now,” he snickered. 

Dream visibly slumped into the cushions, his hands planted on his face as he calmed down from the attack. He heard Wilbur chuckle quietly and felt a gentle pat to his stomach, subconsciously flinching at the contact with a squeak.

“You know, I’m glad we met up. I get to see you like this,” Wilbur settled beside Dream, grinning down at him. “It’s kinda cute, King.”

Dream whined, the tickling had stopped but the small giggles tumbling out of him hadn’t. He shifted his hands so he could clamp them over his mouth, his eyes squinting with how big his smile was. “Shuhut up, it’s embaharrassing,” he grumbled. 

Wilbur shook his head, smiling genuinely. “Well I found it quite sweet. And I’ll make sure to tell George when I go back.”

Dream immediately flinched and shot up, staring at Wilbur intensely. “No- no you can’t, he’ll actually murder me when he gets over here.”

Wilbur snickered, looking at his nails. “Ah well, I’ll give a nice eulogy then.”

The strawberry blonde spluttered in outrage. “Like hell you will-!”

Wilbur’s own cackles rang through the house as Dream enacted his revenge, yelling at the brunette to not tell George, while Wilbur yelled about him trying to silence the truth. Mario Kart lay abandoned at the side, the characters tied for last place while their players tussled on the couch. The race wasn’t going to continue for a while, but there were more important things at hand.

[sullustangin]

Day 21: Spite

Time: Chapter 6 of KotET

Rating: T, ish.

Word Count: 1800 words.

A/N: I’ve fussed with Arcann in my universe briefly, but I really wanted to explain why Eva let him live...because her first impulse is to kill him.  CW for blood, if you’re squeamish and for the idea that loving partners might kill each other.

~~

Even as he did his duty – even as he watched her back as Eva marched Arcann to the waiting shuttle, blaster wedged firmly into his back – Theron was filled with dread.

Those two had had a conversation with Valkorion in front of him.  He felt blind and useless, an intelligence man unable to perceive.  

Then she had played the role perfectly, as Theron drew away from the camera to permit Eva and Arcann to have the spotlight.  On the intergalactic Holonet, Arcann had knelt down to pledge fealty.

The script had been that Eva would defy Vaylin, pitch herself as a freedom fighter, and invite all to join.  Then she showed her power:  “Kneel before the Dragon of Zakuul.”

Nobody had anticipated the entrance of the former Emperor himself.  The one who had imprisoned her for five years.

Stolen her life.

Locked her away from the galaxy.

Eva had accepted Arcann’s fealty as he had knelt before her in submission, in humility.

And she hadn’t shot him. It’s what Theron would have done, if it was his call. He thought that’s what she would have done.  After all they’d spoken about –

Theron understood his duty. It was not his call.  But then he had dropped into a crisis, silently, internally.

Valkorion had taken her.

He must have.   In the heat of the moment, as she spoke to someone that had been so thoroughly corrupted by the Emperor and his Darkness, she’d slipped.  He’d taken her.  He’d spared his son Arcann – always have a suitable, back-up vessel. 

What choice did she have? Theron had tried to reason with himself.   If Eva had shot Arcann on the intergalactic stage, then she would lose people for her brutality as much as she would win them through decisiveness and fear.  

Then Theron could no longer think as Vaylin’s forces descended upon them.  They were caught up in the rush to evacuate the building as the Eternal Fleet bombarded its own people.

As the last of the Horizon Guards had fallen before them, she’d barked, “Arcann.”  When he’d turned, the former conqueror of the Core had found himself on the business end of her blaster.  She gestured with it.  “Ahead. To the shuttle.  No sudden moves.”

A small little shard of hope tumbled around, catching light.  That was her.  Eva.

Now Theron followed her, watching her move.  

He was struck by the thought that less than two hours ago, they’d waltzed in disguise at Vaylin’s party as they waited for the exact right moment to reveal themselves during her speech. He’d said she looked pretty. She said they should do this more often – without the life or death context.  

She was right.  He knew that.  

Was that the end?  Had that been the last moments before --

What if “the dragon of Zakuul” had not been Vaylin’s control phrase but some other trigger inside Eva’s mind?  Some trap Valkorion set for his host to eventually stumble upon and –

They reached the shuttle. “Cover me,” she said loud enough for him to hear, even as she faced away from.  Swiftly, she moved past Arcann and vaulted herself up into the shuttle.  T7 gave a whoop, then a downward “ooooo” noise as Eva brushed past him.  “Cover Theron,” she ordered.

The T7 unit chirped and almost eagerly pulled a blaster. 

Theron leapt aboard the shuttle, his knee only protesting for a moment as he landed. Then he turned around and offered an arm to Arcann.  Eva wanted him onboard.  Theron would obey.  Until he was sure.

T7 squawked at him as he hauled Arcann up, his flesh crawling the entire time.  “Arcann = new friend?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, buddy,” Theron answered, acting as if it was no big deal.  

This was a huge fucking deal.

“Save the greetings. Let’s get out of here alive,” came Lana’s voice from the front.

Theron watched Arcann as T7 kept his blaster out, but seemed unsure as to whether he should aim it at him or not.  Theron did not make eye contact with the former emperor.  He did not dare engage.  He knew his own weaknesses, and the urge to chuck him right back out of the shuttle was currently one of them. 

 Out of the periphery of his vision, Theron saw Eva’s coat disappear around the corner toward  the passenger seating section….

She hadn’t gone to relieve Lana at the helm.  Eva always flew her own shuttles, nudging everyone except maybe Koth out of the Captain’s seat.  It wasn’t an insult – stars knew she was the best damn pilot the Alliance had.  Eva had always been better than Theron or Lana, who were accustomed to ‘push-button shuttles’ prior to the formation of Alliance.

Both of them had learned how to fly by necessity.  Theron was even clocking hours on Virtue’s Thief

The dread returned, stronger, as Theron silently motioned to T7 to continue to stand guard.

Theron figured if he was going to get shot, it might as well be by Eva.  He knew she’d take the head, and then none of this would be his problem anymore.

That grim humor in mind, Theron swiftly rounded the corner ---

He almost cried out her name in alarm, but he checked that impulse.  Instead he used his implants to activate the privacy screen between the passenger area and the rest of the ship.  Then he went to his knees to take a look at her, pulling his medkit out of his jacket.

She’d had shucked her gloves the second she had turned round the corner, based on where they landed. She had yanked off her jacket, trying to save it ---

Eva was bent over in her seat, trying to pinch her nose shut, the front of her shirt entirely bloodied, smears on her bare hands.  Her eyes were shut tightly, as if concentrating.

“Eva?” he asked, almost silently.  

Those lovely dark eyes he knew appeared.  “Theron,” she said softly, voice all rough and nasal.  “He’s mad.”

Theron kept his gaze on her as he blindly rifled through his medkit.  He had used it enough when he was young to make each part of it knowable by touch alone.  He kept his eyes on her.  “Who’s mad?”

“Him.  The Emperor.”  Eva’s eyes closed again, the pain in her head evident.  “Killing Arcann.  It was tempting, you know.”

She wasn’t making sense. “Yeah.  I do.”  Theron pulled out a diagnostic computer to give him a quick readout.   “But you decided not to do it.  Because – why?”  The word came out as sharp and jagged as his emotions were.

Five years with her lost.

“Spite,” Eva said, but then she stopped short and flinched. 

“Oh, is that our decision-making process now?  Whatever is the most annoying, do it?”  Theron tossed the useless computer aside.  Didn’t tell him anything. 

A bloody hand slipped along his gloves, and Theron realized he’d looked away.  Her eyes were open again.  “He’s doing this.  Because he’s mad.”

Then it all made sense to Theron. The Emperor haunted her. Scared her.  Always something new.  Something going numb, something going cold, terrible nightmares, fainting spells.  Eva endured.

So did Theron, because he loved her.  Because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her again.  He wasn’t a fucking Jedi.  He was attached.  

And now… “He’s punishing you for not killing Arcann?”  Theron stared at her.

“Yeah.  It… it gets in the way of him reclaiming his throne without a fight.  He – he wants me to – ”  Her hand suddenly squeezed his.  

Theron got to work with a hypospray filled with a painkiller and a mild sedative, right to her neck with his spare hand.  “Stay with me.”

Eva nodded and barely reacted to the hiss against her neck.  Her face was a mess.  Impulsively, Theron pressed a kiss where the cold medical device had been.  “I’m with you,” she said, taking a breath through her mouth.

“Keep talking.”  Keep her here, keep her in the present, keep her here with him –

“He wanted me to kill Arcann tonight, so badly.  Even more than he wanted me to kill Senya at Voss.”

A shudder went through Theron as his fingers reached the gauze and some nasal sponges.   “He wanted you to kill her when you shot at her before, too?”

“No, that time was all me,” she replied candidly.  

Theron want to laugh and sob in the same moment; that was Eva.  That was his girlfriend.  

They were going to be ok. At least for tonight.

“Take this,” he instructed as he passed her the gauze.  “Hold it over.  I’ll pack you the best I can to stop the bleeding.  We’ll take it out before … before you have to speak to anyone else but me.”

Eva nodded again, silently, and she released Theron’s hand from her grasp as she did as he said.  She had to be the figurehead.  She had to look the part.  Sounding like she had a headcold wasn’t going to strike fear into the heart of a dictator.  Former. Whatever the hell he was now.  

She didn’t have to be anything but herself with him now.  “He wants to kill Arcann.  Vaylin too.”  Eva blinked a few times, tiredly.  “I shouldn’t do that then.  Shouldn’t please him.  If this is his rage --”  she shifted the hand with the gauze slightly -- “imagine the joy if I did --”

“Obstacles to being the Emperor through you,” Theron hazarded a guess.  “Power you can steal or tap – some Sith do that sort of thing when they kill someone.”

Eva frowned.  “Like Kallig?”

“Yeah,” Theron answered her. “So.  Change of plans.  Big change of plans.”  Theron could barely wrap his head around it, but he could at least finish this job here.  “You probably should be quiet for this part – no offense.” He held up the nasal sponges.

He started packing her right nostril first.   Theron backed off slightly as she threatened to sneeze.   Eva held up her hand for a second, then gestured to him to finish the work.  She was still and cooperative for that part and then the other nostril as well.  

Theron cleaned up the blood from her face.  “You need to stop getting into fights,” he mockingly lectured her as he finished.

“Hey, I make friends whenever I do.  Bowdaar and his fight club buddies.  Former Emperors of Zakuul,” she teased right back.  

Once her face was clear, Theron tossed aside the bloodied gauze and looked up at her from where he knelt on the floor.

All it took was for her to reach for him just a little, and Theron immediately moved from the floor to the seat next to her, pulling her right into his arms.  When she was neatly tucked under his chin, Theron heard Eva say, “He still is really scary when angry.”

Theron couldn’t hold her tight enough. A message filtered through his implants.  “T7 wants to establish parameters for shooting Arcann.  How do you manage to corrupt every single one of my droids?”

Eva pulled back and grimaced.  He was about to apologize for the joke when she said, suddenly concerned, “What the hell are we going to do with the ex-emperor of Zakuul on Odessen?  I mean, other than take him to see his mom?”

“Oh, now you think of it, and it’s my problem.”

“You’re my operations manager – my problems are your problems.”  

“I vote we delegate this one to Lana.”

“That worked last time with fight club.  Motion passed.”

~~

A/N 2:  All references to Bowdaar and Fight Club come from my first fic, Lady of Emancipation, when Theron has to patch up Eva after competing in the Eternal Championship.  Lana did indeed have to deal with Bowie and his friends after Eva unceremoniously passed out and Theron realized he hadn’t slept in a day or two. 

[meichenxi]

Ooh anything about linguistics and/or Chinese linguistics that interests you- what do you find most interesting?

Ooooo thank you! First let me apologise for the lack of rigour i.e. sources - I am ILL.

HMMMMM ok...let me talk a little bit about one thing I find fascinating - the idea of 'linguistic complexity'. It's an interesting topic that a) demonstrates the failures of linguistics that only takes Indo-European languages into account; b) demonstrates how a conflation of linguistic and moral judgements leads to absolute chaos; and c) proves that sometimes the purpose of all models and hypotheses is to be a useful aid in description, and not to be 100% accurate. Which means that multiple models can exist at the same time. Also, it shows just how cool Classical Chinese is.

I'm going to make this into two posts because I have been asked to wax lyrical on this stuff twice...this one will be a general overview of what linguistic complexity is and some of the issues around it, and the other post (@karolincki 's ask) will be an overview of these issues as pertaining to Modern and Classical Chinese.

Linguistic complexity: an introduction

What is linguistic complexity? Basically what it says on the tin: how 'simple' or 'complex' is one language in relation to another. If you automatically think that sounds dodgy - aren't all languages equally complex? what is a simple language? etc - just hold on. We'll get there.

A very important starting point: complexity here only refers to linguistic complexity. There are many ways to measure this, but broadly speaking it refers to the amount of stuff in a language a learner has to deal with. Are there genders? Well, that's more complex than not having any, because it's an extra thing to remember. Do you have to express whether the information you're conveying is something you personally experienced or hearsay? Again, more complex than not. Different tenses? Essentially, you can look at complexity like this: if you were describing this language or putting it into a computer program, what is the minimum length of description you would need? The longer the description, the more complex the language. In a standard understanding of complexity, a language like English is more complex than a language like Vietnamese (English has more tenses, moods, conjugations, irregularity...), and a language like Georgian is more complex than a language like English (Google a single verb table of Georgian and you will see what I mean).

(this will be long)

What complexity does not mean is anything to do with the cognitive abilities of the people who speak it. It doesn't mean that people who speak English are unable to conceive of the difference between a dual and a plural (2 apples and 3 apples), just because the language doesn't mark it. It doesn't mean people who speak Chinese are unable to conceive of the past conditional ('I should have gone...') just because they don't have a separate tense for it. It doesn't mean Italian speakers don't know whether they experienced the thing themselves, or heard about it from someone else, just because they don't have a set verb ending for it. All linguistic complexity means is what the language requires you to express.

I'm putting this out there very clearly because this sort of thinking is bound up in a lot of racist ideas and ideology. You'll have heard of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis? Unfortunately named, since they never really worked together, and Edward Sapir was actually a relatively cool dude for the time who argued against linguistic relativity - i.e. the language you speak determines how you think. Yes, in the 19th (and much of the 20th) century, when certain linguists referred to 'simple' and 'complex' languages that is what many of them meant: speakers of a simple language are 'simple', and a complex one are 'complex'. But there was a huge backlash against these racist ideas, and that backlash was hugely influential is shaping the direction of typology (the branch of linguistics which is broadly concerned with these sorts of questions). More on that later, but for now: please understand that when I say linguistic complexity, I am not implying a single thing about the people that speak it.

Back to complexity. Of course language, like any system, is made up of moving parts: you don't just need to consider how many parts it has, but also how interdependent they are, whether they interact with each other in a predictable way, how likely they are to change. You might also want to consider how easy the system is to learn for somebody who has never used it before. And then, of course, languages are more complex still because they are not machines, but ever-changing things: do you count a rule like the conditional inversion in English, which only applies to a total of three verbs? Is that less complex because fewer verbs use it - and therefore you need to think about it less - or does that make the system more complex because you need another, meta-rule to say when you need to use it and when not? What about irregularity? Is a language like English that doesn't have many rules but has a sizeable amount of 'irregular' verbs more or less complicated than a language like Swahili which has a lot more rules, but follows them assiduously? And what happens when some people use one rule and others don't - do you count those as the same language (lumping), which may render the grand overview less accurate, or do you count them as totally separate languages (splitting), in which case when do you stop?

Hmm. Complexity. Is. Complex.

Those are a lot of factors that need to be considered here. Even saying something is 'irregular' doesn't mean very much without further quantification. For example, if I say that the 'irregular' verb ring goes to ring, rang, rung in English, you can very easily find other verbs which conjugate similarly: sing, sang, sung etc. So is that really irregular? Or is it just another, less productive rule? But then if it's a rule, why do we say fling, flung, flung and not yesterday I flang the ball? What's going on???

And what about 'total' irregularity, so called 'suppletion', where (and this is a very scientific explanation) a random non-related word just seems to appear in a paradigm, like it's got lost on the way home? Like I go, I went; like to be, I am, he is, I were; like good, better, best. Ok, so is the irregularity in I go and I went somehow....more irregular than irregularity in I sing and I sang? Uhh. Ok. And then is the irregularity in bad, worse, worst somehow more irregular than better and best, because at least for better and best you can see the -er and -st endings?? Finally, what about a 'spoken' but very predictable irregularity, such as the way we have a reduced vowel in 'says'? Where do we count that? Is that more irregular, or less irregular? Is it maybe 33% irregular?

I think you get the point. And of course all of this becomes more complex when you start to consider the interaction of lots of different systems at once. What about tone? If you have regular tone like Chinese, most people would agree that it's more complex because it's an added thing. But tone probably only developed in part as a response to losing some really important sound contrasts that other languages have kept...and also there is no possibilities of 'irregularities' in tone the way there are in something like verb conjugation...you can't just have a random sixth tone. And then what about syntax? If you have lots of very complex word ordering rules, is that more or less complex than a language where you have to rely on the human being to use pragmatics to infer what the ever loving fuck is going on?

Yeah. This is sort of just one of those things where every year a new linguist comes up with a spicy new matrix to 'measure' complexity and then everyone shits on them in journals and then comes up with their own idea which is promptly shat on. I don't know either.

Ok, so how is this relevant to Chinese?

To answer that question we need to circle round a bit to the history of typology that I vaguely alluded to earlier. At various points - depending on how racist the linguist in question was - people in the 20th century were starting to realise that all of this stuff about 'complex language = complex civilisation / complex thought' wasn't quite as water-tight as they'd hoped. Perhaps it was their better judgement, but it's also likely to have been influenced by a lot of contact suddenly with Native American languages - many of which are vastly complex by literally any metric you could possibly imagine, but the people speaking them were not colonising other countries and building amphitheatres and all of those necessarily, comfortingly European ideas of 'civilisation'. This movement away from such racist ideology, even if it was fuelled in part by a different type of racism, meant that suddenly everyone was very wary about making statements about linguistic complexity at all. It smacked of all the things they were trying not to be associated with.

I'm going to quote some Edward Sapir here for no other reason than I think it's really unfortunate that he's most famous for something that has the potential for incredibly racist ideology that he literally never said:

'Intermingled with this scientific prejudice and largely anticipating it was another, a more human one. The vast majority of linguistic theorists themselves spoke languages of a certain type, of which the most fully developed varieties were the Latin and Greek that they had learned in their childhood. It was not difficult for them to be persuaded that these familiar languages represented the “highest” development that speech had yet attained and that all other types were but steps on the way to this beloved “inflective” type. Whatever conformed to the pattern of Sanskrit and Greek and Latin and German was accepted as expressive of the “highest,” whatever departed from it was frowned upon as a shortcoming or was at best an interesting aberration. Now any classification that starts with preconceived values or that works up to sentimental satisfactions is self-condemned as unscientific. A linguist that insists on talking about the Latin type of morphology as though it were necessarily the high-water mark of linguistic development is like the zoölogist that sees in the organic world a huge conspiracy to evolve the race-horse or the Jersey cow.'

People generally began to get the hang of it after this, and stepped away from linguistic classification at all. There was a broad consensus that that sort of thing was done with, a thing of the past. It's kind of funny, because of course people's unwillingness to look at the complexity of language because 'all people are the same' shows that they still think language and culture/cognition are intimately linked! It was done out of a desire to not be racist, but you can't even reach that conclusion unless you have a sneaky secret bit of bioessentialism going on in your sneaky little brain. Because if the complexity of language doesn't reflect the complexity of your thought, why would it matter whether some systems are bigger than others? That they had more parts?

It literally wouldn't matter at all..

So what happened next? Linguists started to revisit these old linguistic classifications and ideas of complexity, but in the hope of proving, instead, that actually all languages were equal. You can definitely see the theoretical aims here: not only is a good from an ideological point of view (again, if you still equate linguistic complexity to complexity of thought), but it's also quite handy if you believe that all human babies approach language learning with the same biological apparatus ('Universal Grammar', if you believe in that, and other cognitive principles). If all babies have the same built-in gear, you sort of want the task they are given to be of roughly the same magnitude. That's one of those things linguists like to call theoretically desirable - which just means it would be neat if it did.

We're getting to Chinese. I promise.

So how you could make systems so vastly different as English and Georgian and Chinese roughly the 'same' level of complexity? One answer is irregularity: languages with huuuuuge verb and noun declensions like Georgian tend to have very little irregularity, where languages with less extensive systems like English tend to keep it around for longer. There are lots of reasons for this I won't go into, but it's a general trend. Irregular systems are more work for the brain to remember, which, predictably, is more 'complex' for a learner to acquire. Compare a language like English and German: German may have more cases and declensions and rules, but once you learn them...that's it. Compare that to English, where you'll be learning phrasal verbs and prepositions as a second language learner until the day you die (and possibly beyond). It's a different type of 'complex', but it's still deserving of the title.

That obviously doesn't work for a language like Chinese. Chinese has no conjugations, and so can't possibly have any irregularity in the same way. But fear not: there are lots and lots and lots of ways in which languages often exhibit what might be called 'complexity tradeoffs': languages with complex tone, for example, almost always have simpler sound systems elsewhere, and many languages with complex case arrangements tend to have free word order. One thing is complex, another...simplex (a word unfortunately genuinely in use).

This seems nice. We like this. It means that the different parts of the same system may be differently sized, but the whole system in total is about the same as any of other language. There’s just one problem: this isn’t how languages seem to work.

For every example of a complexity trade-off you can find, there are other languages which don’t have any such ‘trade off’ at all. There are plenty of languages where grammar is complex and the sound system is complex; or languages like Icelandic and German where there are cases but fairly rigid and fixed word order; or other cases where there is a huge amount of irregularity but also crazy verb systems, and so on. A language like Abkhaz has supposedly 58 consonants in the literary dialect: but it also has insanely complicated grammar. No trade-off there. Finally, it has long been presumed that whilst verb morphology etc is simpler in languages like Chinese, syntax would be more complicated: recently, a number of studies have proved exactly the opposite. Both, in fact, are simpler.

In conclusion, where does this leave us? Whilst the idea behind complexity trade-offs is well-motivated but not totally sound, and whilst these do not always seem to be present in the way you might hope, what this does do is force us as linguists to question whether we have spent enough time considering the types of complexity that are present in languages like Chinese, and how we reconcile that with more ‘familiar’ complexity. It’s interesting to think about because it shows what happens when you fail to consider these things.

That’s all for the overview on linguistic complexity today!! I’ll talk specifically about complexity in Chinese in the next ask, because this is already very long. Be aware, I’m not going to give you any answers necessarily - these questions are way above my pay grade - but boy can I give you some thoughts.