#it was probably because of the ship. which. is a bit weird.

[doginurbloodstream]

i am bive from regretevator!

i dont particularly miss the regretevator universe.. i do enjoy the game though

i know two infected fictionkins, one of which is also unpleasant gradient and poob!

id say im a 3/10, i tend to be a very rational person (i think)

bive is unlabled mspec but wlw and im aroace transmasc

my fictionkin identity doesnt really effect daily life, if at all. it has to be triggered by specific bive related things. the closest its gotten is wanting to yell out "me" whenever the npc me entered the elevator while i was playing with my friend, who does not know im a fictionkin, so there was like an awkward pause where i stopped myself, and then yelled bive. there are random bits of dysphoria i guess, i dont like talking in third person, but its mild and i can get past it.

my fictionkin experience is mainly unpleasant (gradient) unfortunately. shifts are euphoric but also stressful. i tend to have to consciously ground myself a bit, because i have felt like im being watched in the past. i knew/know i wasnt, i just couldnt shake the feeling. i mean coming up with theories for the game where i can just completely let lose is fun, however it is saddening that i will probably never come up with a real one.

death note, touch tone telephone (i was based on that song so its not surprising), and i recently realized the backrooms does too. theres more im not thinking of

im not sure, its not psychological and i think dont believe in most spiritual things. its probably a multiversal thing, but i dont know from there so i usually just say unlabeled.

i do experience shifts! they are always triggered tho, thankfully. i dont get them too often. the first two shifts i had were me being paranoid abt things (the very first one was very out of control, but i was sleep deprived and depressed at the time). the second time i talked about two questions ago. i didnt have any shifts for awhile after that until i my plushie arrived, and i stayed up quite a bit just missing mediamates. that was rough. my later shifts were triggered by trying to come up with theories for the game, altho i wasnt aware i was shifted, until later, i thought i was just excited. the theories were really unhinged, and i thought i was a genius. it was rly fun tho. harmless shift. today i had a brief shift, i was looking at a bive fictionkin stimboard, and there was like a liminal space gif + music was playing, and it looked.. all too much like the lab. i started crying a bit, even tho i do not think have kinmemories, but it ended pretty quickly cuz my friend msged me a joke and the shock value got to me lol. ive also had phantom shifts, but not much recently. i may have had tail shifts, but its difficult to differentiate between kintypes

my media is regretevator on roblox! i do cringe at it sometimes tbh.

when i see fanart, it sort of feels like it was made FOR me specifically lol. what i know abt my canon heavily aligns with the fanon designs so thats cool. when it doesnt align i do feel a bit off tho- like no, that isnt me. you got it wrong. ironically this happened with a recent canon update, when they added melanie WHO IS DEAD. she was supposed to BE dead and STAY dead. and then also, why do i welcome her back?? why am i so friendly?? i mean i get that shes like friends or smth with split, but i just dont trust her. i have no reason not to, i just dont. that is WRONG. you. NO. get OUT.

ooh ooh! i like this question. i have a large, reptile-like (but hairy) non-prehensile tail! my hands and feet are clawed, with only 4 digits. for my feet i have like thumb things coming out of my heels, similar to a bird. i likely am very similar the upcoming remodel, but i cant confirm as i have not seen it. i just know im not a roblox character, and the previews of splits remodel feel very familiar.

ah.. ships. i dont see much of them outside me n split. if i do i just think its a bit weird, and move on. i wish i was seen as more than just someone who likes her. theres more to me. the majority of bive fans are mainly spive fans. i decided to look myself up on tumblr and i was just flooded with shipart. there is MORE TO ME. I AM MORE THAN HER. PLEASE SEE ME FOR ME.

in current lore me and split have feelings for each other (cant relate, im aro, but spive is in my canon tho) and are GOING to confess but that has not happened yet. i feel kinda weird abt it since i have very mixed feelings on romance, but i think we are a thing in my canon, because MY GOD I MISS SPLIT SO MUCH. I MISS HER.

Alex's fictionkin ask game!

(mostly for fictional characters)

🌲 - what is your fictotype?

🪲 - do you miss your home? Or maybe you're happy that you're here?

🐸 - do you have any sourcemates? If yes, who/what are they?

🌳 - in scale 1-10, how are you similar to your canon?

🌿 - does your fictotype have a different sex/gender identity than your body/you?

☘️ - what aspect of life does your identity affect the most?

🪴 - is your fictionkin experience unpleasant or enjoyable for you?

🍃 - what reminds you of your fictotype? (E.g.: a figurine, a doll, a tv series)

🌄 - on what level is your identity? (E.g. spiritual, psychological, psychical)

🐢 - do you experience shifts? Of yes, how do they look like?

🥝 - what is your source?

🐛 - how do you feel about fanarts of you and fanfictions?

🌵 - do you look exactly like in your source or do you look different? If you do, then what is different?

🥀 - what do you think about ships with you?

🦕 - do you have/had a loved one in your source?

♪♪♪

So, yeah, that's all! :D

Reblog this, so the others can ask you questions or answer them all right now, if you want to :>

[a-most-beloved-fool]

If Spock and Jim merged into one being (no euphemism here lol) like Tuvix, what do you think the personality of the new being would be like? What impact do you think that would have had on the lives of both of them after they separated again? I love your headcanons, thanks for the answers!

thanks for the question!! <3

Hmmm... I think they would work pretty well as one being, actually. I'm thinking about all of those quotes from Roddenberry about how Kirk and Spock were supposed to represent two halves of a whole person, so I have to assume that they would be quite content. Though, disclaimer as I continue: I have not yet seen any of Voyager - there might be aspects of Tuvix's combination that I don't take into account because I don't know they exist. If so, uh, sorry. My bad.

For the sake of avoiding confusion, I'll call the merge Kirok (after the name Kirk chose when he lost his memories in The Paradise Syndrome). (Also, I fear that calling him "Kock" would have... deleterious effects on the readability of this post... for no reason at all...)

I do think that Kirok would, overall, have the best parts of Kirk and Spock. Combined, they are tactically fearsome. With Kirk's intuition and understanding of people and Spock's knowledge of statistics and science, Kirok is brilliant. However, I do think that Kirok would be a worse captain in practice than if Kirk and Spock simply had a mental bond. Part of the brilliance of Kirk and Spock as a command team is that, while they very much respect one another and take the other's opinion into account, they do also. regularly ignore each other's advice. And this is usually to their benefit! They each take risks that the other wouldn't, and, often, it saves them (in part because they always back each other up, even when doing things they don't agree with. Spock will be like "this is unwise" and Kirk will say "maybe, but I'm doing it anyways" and Spock will just... go with it.). But, if they were one person, I think that impulsiveness would be tempered. The Kirk part would have a brilliant idea, the Spock part would say "wait, there is too much risk, we can make a better plan," and then Kirok would lose his chance to act. When they're separate people Spock is ride-or-die for all of Kirk's decisions, but when they're one person, the Spock half won't always allow those decisions to be made at all (and also won't necessarily be able to tell when he does need to rein things in a bit). (Also Kirk and Spock both tend to be reckless, and then rely on the other to save them - as Kirok, who would back him up when he needed it? Bones would, but he's a medical officer. He simply can't do everything they would have. And, no matter how good of a first officer Kirok got (probably Sulu?), they couldn't be that good.)

I also think that Kirok wouldn't be quite as at ease with his position on the ship as Spock and Kirk individually were. The Spock part of him loves science far too much to just abandon it. He wants to spend time in the labs! He wants to make discoveries! Likewise the Kirk part of him can't truly be anything but a Captain. So, Kirok stays a captain, but he's less passionate about it (or, rather, more passionate about things that aren't it). This doesn't actually affect Kirok's satisfaction - it just affects his performance and relationships with others. He might spend off-duty time working on science experiments (which he can no longer do during shift, due to captaining) and neglect forming bonds with his crew, and he might place more focus than usual on scientific discovery missions.

As for the crew... Well, it's not as weird of a change as they expected. As expected, Kirok is less outwardly friendly than Kirk, and more outwardly friendly than Spock, but he's - cohesive. He still feels like their commanding officers. His humor tends to be a bit drier than Kirk's was, but he's a very compassionate and reasonable captain. (Tbh I tend to think that Kirk is actually more of a hardass than Spock (people just assume Spock is worse due to being Vulcan), so some crewmembers are surprised when Kirok is more lenient about certain things than Kirk would have been. Not lenient about cruelty or anything genuinely important to the safety of the ship, but about other things.) But, he's still not as good at making personal connections as Kirk was, and he's still inclined to spend too much time in the labs, so things aren't perfect.

Really, I think that the person having the worst time of things would be Bones, lmao. He'd have to deal with his Best Friend suddenly being the same person as The Guy He Affectionately Antagonizes (totally not a friend no how could you even think that). I think he'd be more lost than anyone else about how to address Kirok. Is this Kirk, his old friend, who he can be truly comfortable with, or is this Spock, who he snipes at and who snipes at him in turn? Who can he turn to, when the man he normally approaches for comfort is now the same being as one he doesn't want to seem too weak in front of? Does he turn to anyone else, in the meantime, or does he weather it alone?

Kirok himself, though, is actually pretty okay with the change. The different parts of himself simply - mesh well together. It's very satisfying for him, if not for his career and those around him. There's some minor bits of tension, especially regarding changes in biology and telepathic status, but, for the most part, he's doing well. The things you might expect to be major points of tension somehow... aren't. They compromise remarkably easily. (No meat, yes logic, no emotional suppression, yes casual touching, no casual relationships, yes meditation, etc.) And the Kirk and Spock parts of him both enjoy the closeness, the sense of knowing they now have for one another. They're one person, and know themself completely as they've always longed to know each other completely. (he does miss playing chess against someone who could beat him, though!)

Now, because I am Spirk-brained, I also think there's potential for Kirok to have Very Confused Feelings about discovering that the two parts of himself each had secret feelings for the other prior to the merge. There could be this odd sense of loss - like, yes, they are now technically one with one another, but they also completely missed out on their shot at a romantic relationship. They mourn what they could have had. The Spock part, especially, mourns the potentially for a telepathic bond (because with how smoothly they've integrated with one another, it surely would have been a strong one). So, as much as Kirok does enjoy existing as Kirok, I think he might be more willing to attempt separating back into two parts than I believe Tuvix was.

And, when they're two separate people again, they both feel like they're missing some part of themself, even once they've begun their new romantic relationship - but quickly discover that a mental link between them fills that hole. (And then, of course, because they are hopeless and in love, the "medicinal mental link" very quickly just becomes a marriage bond. They're like "well, we've already been one person and liked that well enough... a marriage bond is hardly anything different!" To Spock's endless pleasure, they are highly compatible and have a remarkably strong bond.) The mental link also allows them to have the same quick reaction times and combined brilliance of Kirok without the negative side effects of their own individual strengths being tempered. (they're also like. annoyingly codependent for a bit after Kirok's separation. oh boy are they always touching. "it gives them emotional security." bones looks at them in disgust (he loves it).)

Or, if we wanted to be McSpirk-brained... I'm enjoying the imagery of Kirok (who both had crushes on Bones as well as on one another) just directing all of that missed romantic potential onto Bones, who is... like, he's not not into it (Kirk was hot, Spock was hot, ergo Kirok is hot), but he also misses and loved his Original friends, and so he is very torn between accepting Kirok's advances and trying to find a way to split them apart again. (Flustered Bones, flustered Bones!! I do love flustered Bones!! He is blushing and stammering and having multiple ethical crises all at once. They never covered this in Starfleet Medical...) He also doesn't quite know whether Kirok's feelings truly belonged to both Kirk and Spock or not, and doesn't think that Kirk or Spock would truly act on it if they were in their normal state, so a small selfish part of him wonders if that's the only chance he has to be with them (even if it's not quite the same 'them' he fell in love with). And then, of course, there's the fear that trying to get back the original Kirk and Spock will actually just kill them! Yeah, poor Bones has a rough time of things. But, when everything is fixed, he does still wind up getting two boyfriends out of it. It all works out in the end?

[simplepotatofarmer]

I think anon just wanted to make you feel bad.

considering how quick they were with the original ask and when i asked what i could do to help there was nothing, yeah. :(

i like to give the benefit of the doubt to people and if i really do need to be tagging like, mentions of murder or death in canon and aus, i'll do it! i did kind of think that was unspoken considering the dsmp canon but it's fine, no big deal to me.

anyway, i hope whoever that anon was is okay and has a good day, regardless of anything else.

[golyadkin]

You ever notice a running theme in your life?

[razzledazzletrassh]

no major fic updates just yet guys TAKE MY WOY OC I MADE LIKE. April of last year IM PLUGGING SOME INFO ABOUT THIS GUY IN THE TAGS.

I may also redesign her soon or something. Make her more bug-like with some stuff. I can cook guys let me cook !!!

[elizabethrobertajones]

🗝

Send 🗝️ to see them in private.

"What are you doing in here? Get out!"

Free Company houses are for politically neutral snuggles.

[sophieswundergarten]

Mental Literature

Reynie had always had a habit of "writing things down" in his mind, he found it helped him remember important details and organize his thoughts. Certain words he liked, or ideas that came to him when he didn't have pen and paper handy. Often, these little notes become lists, or, less often, letters. After all, he had no one to write to at the orphanage.

The lists he used most commonly were the ones that contained new words he'd learned. When he came across one he didn't understand, he'd go get a dictionary from the reading room (One of the few books actually available at the orphanage, and one that had sat through many years of dusty disuse until Reynie had come along), looking it up and tracing the letters with his finger until he had fully absorbed the meaning.

One day, when he was sitting outside enjoying the pleasant weather while the other children ran around on the grass and played various games amongst themselves, he found himself cataloging their names. There was Susan Pennyworth, and Thomas Deerhart, and Jane Poll, and several others that moved about, swiftly engaging in a game of tag. A boy a few years older than Reynie himself walked up to where he was sitting under the ash tree. Vic Morgeroff, Reynie noted.

"What're you doing, Muldoon?" Vic asked in a bored way. Reynie wondered for a moment why he was asking, if he seemed so disinterested.

Quickly, he went through his list of new words, excited to try one out.

"I'm just enjoying the breeze under this large, deciduous ash tree, Vic. How are you doing today?"

Reynie hoped Vic would ask him what the word "deciduous" meant, as he himself had just learned earlier that day. Maybe he would even already know what it meant, since he was older than Reynie, and they could talk about it.

Vic's eyes sharpened as he listened to Reynie's response. "What did you just say, Muldoon? If that was a swear, I'm telling the director. Don't think just 'cause you're quiet and always hiding in one of your books you won't get in trouble."

"No, no," Reynie immediately jumped to correct him, "It's not a swear word, I promise. It's a word I learned this morning, it describes the tree, since it loses its leaves in the winter, as compared to an evergreen, which doesn't."

Somehow, this didn't seem to calm Vic.

"Oh? And what makes you think you can use that word, eh? Is it 'cause you're reading all the time? Think you'll impress someone? Knowing big words doesn't make you special, Muldoon. It- It just makes you a freak, who knows too much."

Apparently satisfied, Vic stalked off, shaking his head and muttering to himself, "Little weirdo, thinks he's better than everyone else."

Reynie watched him go, slightly stunned that his word had evoked such a violent outburst. After a few moments, he sighed, shoulders sagging as he shifted to lean against the tree trunk, closing his eyes. He started a new list. "Unpopular Words".

Months passed, and Reynie was summoned to the director's office.

Mr. Rutger was sitting behind his desk, tapping a pen on it when Reynie entered.

"Come in, come in." Mr. Rutger gestured with his free hand to the chair sitting across from him. Reynie sat down obediently, wondering what this was about. He hadn't caused any trouble lately, although his "Unpopular Words" list was beginning to get long enough that he'd had to start reciting it to himself in the mornings, so as to not forget any. He'd avoided Vic and his friends as much as he could, and continued to do well in all of his classes at the orphanage academy.

"Now, Reynard," Mr. Rutger set his pen down and steepled his hands together just below his face. "Do you know why I asked you to come have this little chat with me?"

Reynie shook his head. What strange thing adults do, he considered, to summon a child purposefully without telling them what is going on and then ask them what they think about it. How is the child supposed to respond?

Mr. Rutger frowned at him, as if that was the wrong answer.

"Well, Reynard, your teachers have reported to me that you've been asking about... opportunities." He said the word as though it was an oily worm that had slipped out of his mouth. "Opportunities to attend other schools. Now, why don't we talk about this? Here you're comfortable, you know how the system works. Your friends are here, and it wouldn't make sense to send you away. Besides, it's against policy for a student to be placed in an external education facility."

Reynie hadn't thought he was asking for "opportunities", he'd spoken to his teachers about taking extra classes only because he was nearing the end of the high school work books, and that was as far as the orphanage curriculum went. He was about to explain this to the director, and add that he didn't have any friends, but Mr. Rutger seemed to have decided that the conversation was over.

"There we are, Reynard." He clapped his hands together, leaning back in his chair, seemingly satisfied with his solution. "See? You'll be much happier here. Oh, and be a good lad and try to clean up that reading room you're always in; it's so dirty."

Reynie nodded, standing up and walking out of the office. He paused on the other side of the heavy doors, taking a deep breath before heading back to the room he shared with four other boys. He added "opportunities" to his list.

Not long after that, Reynie entered his first class of the day with the dull resignation to finish the last few pages of his geography workbook. He'd been trying to take as much time as possible and stretch out for as long as he could, since he knew that once this one was full he'd have to content himself with sitting in the back of the classroom and listening to the teacher go over material he had long since learned. However, upon wishing Mr. Green a good morning, he was told that he had been excused from his classes, and was to report to the main hall.

Reynie walked slowly on his way to the main part of the orphanage. He wasn't quite sure what had changed, but some part of him was hopeful that Mr. Rutget had changed his mind and would let him start taking classes somewhere else. He knew there was a local community college not too far, and he'd be happy to walk there if he could only get permission to attend.

His daydreams were shattered by the sudden image of the orphanage director's expression whenever he had approached him about... anything really. He'd asked, more than once, if they might be able to get a few more books for him to read, if the school kids might take a field trip to the museum, if there was any way that he could help pay for further education, he'd even offered to go through the orphanage's policies and Stonetown's bylaws himself to see if there was an exception or loophole that would allow him to attend the Boatwright Academy. All of these queries had ended with Mr. Rutger looking down at him, lips pursed in a sour pout. This had been going on for so long that Reynie noticed the same expression twisting Mr. Rutger's face every time he even entered the same room as Reynie.

He prepared himself to see that expression before opening the door to the main hall, but instead he found a woman. One he had never seen before and knew didn't work at the orphanage because she was wearing a lovely pink sweater over a floral patterned shirt. No one at the orphanage wore nice sweaters or bright colors. Everything there was drab, as if the color was leeched out of it upon crossing the threshold. This woman was certainly not drab, and smiled warmly at him as she rose from the table she was seated at.

Reynie smiled back at her shyly. He felt a slight, pleasant surprise at her seeming excitement to meet him. It had been a while since someone had smiled at seeing him.

"Hello, I'm Miss Perumal. I was told to wait here for a 'Reynard Muldoon'? Is that you?" The nice lady took a few steps toward him, smile faltering a bit as he hesitated.

"Oh," He started, shaking off his thoughts. "Yes, that's me. I'm Reynie." He hurried down the steps, stopping just in front of her. He paused, awkwardly trying to decide if he should shake her hand, or if she would find that "off-putting" and "too mature for a boy of his age", as his French teacher had once said.

Luckily, Miss Perumal stuck out her hand to him, her friendly smile returning in full force.

"Ah, I'm so glad. I was worried that you might have had somewhere else to be, and I was delaying you. As I said, my name is Miss Perumal, and I have been hired to be your new tutor. I am delighted to meet you Reynie. Do you prefer 'Reynie' to 'Reynard'? When I met the director he referred to you as 'Reynard', so I wanted to see what you'd like."

Reynie's mind was whirling with all that this woman said. She was "delighted" to meet him? And she wanted to know which name he preferred to be called, even after Mr. Rutger had spoken with her? He was stunned once again, and only pulled himself out of it when he realized that she was continuing to look at him, waiting for a response.

"Um, yeah. 'Reynie' is good, thank you, ma'am. You said you're my... tutor?"

Reynie wasn't entirely sure what a tutor was supposed to do. He had a vague concept of someone who is supposed to help students with their homework if they were struggling in school, because a teacher had once suggested he tutor his classmates, since he was so for ahead. It hadn't worked out, though, because only one student had approached him, and when Reynie had looked up in the middle of an excited explanation about the French Revolution, the boy had been staring at him in disgust, before abruptly pushing his chair back and leaving. Reynie had created a small mental note for himself, deciding that once he was able to think of the word without recalling that nightmarish, uncomfortable situation, he would find out exactly what the word "tutor" meant.

Miss Perumal nodded at him, her expression growing more serious.

"Yes, I am going to be your tutor. The word is often used to mean someone who will help students as a supplement to traditional teaching, but in our sense it is going to mean that I am a sort of private teacher, just for you."

Reynie appreciated that she had defined the word for him, but he was still a bit apprehensive about this strange woman. She seemed nice, but if she was just going to be a different kind of teacher, that likely meant that she would just hand him a new workbook and try to cover her surprise when he finished it in a few weeks. He didn't want her to be like that, she smiled at him and her eyes seemed kind, and he didn't want her to be just another adult who came to look at him with that distasteful expression that all of the other grown ups at the orphanage did.

But Miss Perumal wasn't finished yet.

"Now, Reynie, I understand that some students need a little bit of different help than most teachers can give them, but you aren't one of them. Mr. Rutger has shown me your transcripts, and you have excelled in every subject and class you've been placed in. You are a very gifted child, Reynie, and something tells me you haven't been given nearly enough opportunities."

She turned then, rummaging in the bag she carried over her shoulder, which Reynie had not noticed before. Producing a small book with a soft blue cloth cover, she handed it to Reynie.

"This," She explained, her smile back again, "Is for you. It's a book on Tamil, the language I grew up speaking. I really think that you'll enjoy learning it, and we might even be able to start having some conversations in it soon, if your record with the limited French available here is any indication."

Reynie accepted the book with a wondrous expression. This woman was willing to teach him, she gave him a book right after meeting him, she wanted to give him opportunities. He searched for a word to describe her, and he found so many good ones that he had to create a "Miss Perumal" list on the spot. She was glorious, she was exorbitantly compassionate, she was a paradigm he wished all adults followed, she was an assiduous researcher, and she was the antithesis to Mr. Rutger.

He took a deep breath, holding it in his chest next to the spark of hope he could feel glowing there. Running a hand over the book, he felt a smile growing on his own face. It had been a long time since he had smiled.

"Thank you, Miss Perumal. I would love to learn Tamil from you, as well as anything you'd want to teach me."

Miss Perumal looked excited, excited at the thought of teaching him. "Well, then, Reynie, I don't see any reason we shouldn't start right now." She gestured at the chair opposite the one she had been sitting in. "Why don't you begin reading through the introduction of that book, while I go over a few more of my papers. We can work on basic pronunciation once you're done."

Reynie sat down immediately, opening the book and still smiling to himself a little. He felt a lot less lonely as he began reading, and added "Friend?" to his Miss Perumal list.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

OH SHIT UH baizhu x monster reader because I've been thinking about him lately. maybe something dubcon-y? I love pathetic men whimpering and crying 🎃

Author's Note: My mind went places, y'all… very horny places. 💀

Pairings: Baizhu x male reader

Warnings: Male plant monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Baizhu, sort of gullible Baizhu, dubcon, handjob, facial, riding, aphrodisiac, mild dumbification

Why he had to run out of this particular herb was beyond him. As if that wasn't annoying enough, his suppliers were out of stock and wouldn't be able to ship him any more. The location of this herb has become increasingly dangerous, and no one could figure out why the men sent to gather these herbs came back… weird, to say the least. Nonetheless, Baizhu needed those herbs to treat his patients.

Was it a stupid idea to travel out there by himself and gather them by hand; yes, most certainly, and Changsheng told him as much, but a doctor's mind is a puzzling thing.

And that's how he ended up here; in the high mountains of Chenyu Vale. Normally, one would expect to run into a few monsters, at the very least, but Baizhu had yet to see a single one during his trek. There were plenty of other creatures, and the foliage didn't seem withered, so it's not as if this place was devoid of life nor on a biological decline—there was simply a lack of danger. Which is a strange occurrence, considering the reports he'd read…

That fact really should be comforting to the frail doctor, but in truth, it made a shiver run down his spine. His eyes nervously scanned over the immediate grassy grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the herb he so desperately needed — desperate enough to set foot on this mountain alone.

It took a bit more searching, but the herb in question was flourishing just around the back of one particular mountain. Baizhu carefully made his way towards the area, picking one herb and inspecting it to check its quality and that it was, in fact, the correct herb. Picking a few more, Baizhu comes across one plant that refuses to be plucked — an unusually tough herb, resisting his attempts to yank it out from the dirt.

As he goes to inspect the stem, a soft voice cries out; “U-um… excuse me? Could you help me…?” Looking over his shoulder, the doctor spots a person's head sticking up out of the ground—except their skin has a pale green hue to it, and as this person rises up, he notices how the ground around them shifts; as though the ground is a part of them.

Baizhu turns halfway, cautiously keeping an eye on you as he questions, “…What do you need help with?” The way your body flows effortlessly when you move—creating ripples in the immediate area around your torso—piques Baizhu's curiosity.

“O-oh! Um… it's a little embarrassing, if I'm being honest, sir…” you begin, “As you've probably guessed, I am not a human — think of me as a type of dendro spirit, I guess? Uh, anyways, there's this…ritual, of sorts, that only a human can help me with–”

The whole time you're explaining this predicament of yours, Baizhu keeps a watchful eye on you to make sure you're not tricking him. Even though you come across as rather sheepish.

“…I understand if you don't trust me, I just don't know what else to do…humans don't come around here too often, and the pain has become so much worse–”

“I'll help you.” He interjects. The sparkles in your eyes force him to hold back a chuckle as you thank him a million times over. “Please take me to this plant of yours.”

You excitedly take off, essentially a torso and head gliding halfway inside the ground, while this kind human with green hair trails just behind. Arriving at your destination, Baizhu kneels down, giving you a glance, and you return it nervously.

Baizhu eyes the plant inquisitively, staring at the odd shape and strange fleshy texture of the whole thing.

“Go on, doctor, I-I'm ready…” you prompt, giving the man a shy smile to mask your nerves.

With a quick breath to strengthen his resolve, the doctor raises his hands, wrapping them both around the plant and lightly squeezing it until a wet substance seeps out through the petals. “A-ah! aAh-” you gasp suddenly.

“I'm sorry—did that hurt?!”

You shake your head, nearly whimpering as you try to assure him, “N-no… just surprised me. Your hands… they're a bit cold…”

“My apologies, they should warm up soon enough. Shall we keep going?” Said like a true doctor. This stranger with kind eyes has been nothing but gentle with you so far, helping out a non-human creature whom he only met a few minutes ago, even if he finds your request a tad strange.

More wetness falls down his hands, pouring from the plant the more he squeezes and twists his hands around the elongated object. He experimentally moves his hands to other areas, and when Baizhu's thumbs rub and press on the tip of the plant, you're unable to hold back a sharp intake of air. Your eyes roll back momentarily, and you chomp down on your lower lip to conceal the noises threatening to escape.

The doctor eyes your pained expressions with worry written all over his face. “It's… fine — I'm fine. The pain… is not that bad… please, don't stop, doctor.”

As you wish, Baizhu milks more and more liquid from the plant, creating a pool of it underneath the stem of the plant—gradually creeping towards his knees and threatening to soak his pants. For the most part, it feels and looks like regular water, but there's a faint sensation of stickiness on his palms, close to the surface of the plant.

While this is supposed to be a medical procedure, Baizhu can't help feeling a bit… embarrassed by the whole situation. This plant of yours—it is a bit phallic. Not to mention how the method used to wring out the liquid is akin to… uh, a specific hand movement performed on phallic objects. The suggestive sounds coming from your mouth don't help that either. Baizhu can't ignore you when you moan out “Faster… faster, doctor- aah~ Keep stroking it like that… it's definitely woRKING-!”

The more Baizhu watches himself squeeze the glistening liquid from your plant, the deeper into a trance he falls — soon enough he's fallen so deep that he shamelessly jerks off the phallic plant until the tip opens up and explodes like a volcano; shooting thick, honey-like ropes all over Baizhu's pretty face.

The substance drips all down his features — clumping in strands of hair, clinging to his glasses, dripping from his nose and chin, and even a little sliding into his open mouth. “A-ah! Y-you… you did it… you made me release it all, doctor~” you comment — your words are the only thing penetrating that fuzzy mind of his right now. “Thank you soooo much~ But, could I trouble you with one more thing?” you lean forward, gently holding the doctor's chin so that he can't turn away from you. “Won't you help me again? It's the only way for me to feel all better.”

“Aah…? I don't… understand…” Baizhu breathes, confused and seemingly in a daze. It's such a precious sight to behold, really.

You reach out and slide a hand up and down the doctor's stomach, teasingly pushing his top up a few times before moving towards the edge of his pants. “You'll help me, won't you? You're such a kind doctor, after all~” you remind him. Baizhu's pants are quickly yanked down, removed the rest of the way by vines that the good doctor never noticed before…

With his sensitive areas laid bare for you to see, Baizhu gasps, frozen in place as your hands feel up his waist and thighs, pushing the latter apart so that you can inspect his body. Sliding two fingers towards his rear, you find that special hole humans have and tease around the rim of it. “Aha! There it is. I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but… I really need this right now.”

While he has no idea what you mean, the doctor senses something amiss within your words. Your fingers attempt to push inside of him, and Baizhu clumsily refuses. “I-I don't think… don't think that I can do that, young man… mm ooh~”

Impatiently, you lift him up and pull him towards you, hovering his hole right above the plant he'd previously milked. A little burst of liquid shoots from the tip, splashing against Baizhu's entrance, which startles him. The consistency of the liquid feels just like the substance it coated his face in earlier; thick, sticky, and warm.

While Baizhu's mind tries to resist, his body is doing quite the opposite, already lowering itself down until the tip of the plant is entering his ass. “A-AAH! Wait–!” he begs. But it's too little too late as your phallic plant penetrates him with ease, thanks to that honey-like fluid. The fleshy appendage pushes a wave of liquid inside his hole, and it creates a wet mess all over his ass, thighs, and the ground below as you begin to fuck him.

“Mm doctor… you feel incredible~ Hehe, look at that—this little guy is having fun too~” Baizhu blushes deeply, shaking his head while you watch his cock bounce every time your plant cock thrusts in.

“N-no… please, harder–! This is weird… aah~ so good~ ” the doctor grits his teeth, biting his lower lip as he grows frustrated by his own mouth betraying him. The cutest whimpers are the only sounds coming from his mouth as you continue your assault on his hole, thrusting your plant deeper and deeper. The amount of liquid gushing out of Baizhu's ass is ungodly now; sticky, squelchy, slick fluids that overflow with every thrust, filling his tummy until it hurts with how full it is.

“You're doing amazing, doctor! That terrible ache is almost gone, I j-just need to– guh!” you suddenly slam your hips into him, laughing as a pang of pleasure wracks your body and causes you to bury your cock in him. Your hands fly to his waist, and you bounce the human while he whimpers some more.

Tears begin to roll down Baizhu's cheeks, staining his glasses with a salty film as you release another round of that thick substance; this time inside the doctor's body. You pant wildly, mere inches from his face while your plant cock spreads open inside of his hole, releasing far too much liquid inside his belly.

[hadeslegacyhephgirl]

----------------------

People smile in different ways, Jason notices. There's happy smiles and sad smiles and anxious smiles and all kinds of different others.

He knows it's weird, knowing what each smile means for each person, but its- easier, in a way.

Percy smiles tight when exasperated Annabeth's happy smile is big and bright, anything less means she's either tired or far away Hazel smiles easily, but softer when she's truly happy Pipers smile is somehow consistent, it's how she holds her teeth Frank only smiles when he means it

Leo-

He doesn’t even know how to start with Leo

Leo is always smiling, always, like its his default setting. Leo smiles big and bright as a distraction from prying further into his past Leo remembers with a soft smile, almost unconsciously Leo's smile always has an undertone of sadness.

--------

Leo hasn't shown up for dinner.

But its normal- he's probably just lost track of time to fiddle with something.

Which is why Jason is here, in the engine room, feeling way too big as he weaves over, under and around the various bits of equipment- pipes, turbines, etcetera, trying to find Leo He's being guided by instinct- heading for where he's guestimating Leo's favourite spot it.

There's a clang, and a string of Spanish expletives, and Jason- Jasons heart shouldn't have skipped a beat, but it does. He's definitely not thinking about the implications of the fact that he knows where Leo's favourite spot is, even when Leo hasn't even shown him. He's not thinking about any of it, because he's not here to think, he's here to get Leo to eat something for once in a while.

"Leo?"

Another Spanish expletive. A clang, This time the swearing is not in Spanish.

Jason tries very hard not to laugh, but when Leo's head pops up unexpectedly from behind the massive pipe, looking frazzled, Jason loses it. There's a pause, then Leo's laugh is joining his own, and Leo scrambles around the pipe to stand beside Jason as their laughs calm down to giggles  and then to comfortable silence.

"What'cha here for, Supes? To laugh at me or do you need something fixed"

Jason reaches over and pokes Leo's head

"Yeah. I need you to fix your internal clock. You missed dinner, Fireboy" "I never should have showed you that game" "You love it"

Silence. Slightly more awkward.

Then Leo's smiling again, big and bright- the one he hides behind.

The one only used in this kind of situation.

Around Jason.

Jason ignores that thought, and turns his attention back to Leo, who's rattling on about engines or something- an excuse, most likely, so he responds in kind.

"Yeah, yeah, just get to the kitchen, Valdez. C'mon, I'll race you"

It's a distraction, and they both know it.

A distraction from whatever- this is.

Leo takes him up on that, and they race through the ship until they're at the dining hall out of breath, giggling again.

--------

When they enter the room, Jason takes everyone's expressions in quick.

Piper, smiling in a ooh, there's some gossip way Hazel, with a soft, entertained smile Percy, with his hey, it's my bros! expressive smile

Annabeth, with no smile, but her lips are twitching, unsure whether to smile or frown Frank, not paying attention to them.

Coach Hedge absent from the room, probably on patrol.

Leo's smile strains, shrinks a little. Embarrassed.

-------

Jason's watched Leo's smiles, every one of them.

He knows them, like he knows his own.

And still, Leo surprises him with different ones.

Jason doesn’t think he'll ever finish figuring out Leo's smiles.

That’s okay.

It means theres a reason, however small, to stick around. It'll never be his official one, obviously, maybe, probably. But it'll be one. One for himself, if not for anyone else.

-------

[celtrist]

Let's make our own fate

Needed practice with Alastor's colors before going at it with the wip piece I have (which ironically enough is another red string of fate piece). But while I do oh so enjoy Alastor being an independent mammal who doesn't need no mate, I 100% still have fun shipping with him myself from time to time. And this ship is probably my favorite with him (and y'know what, you can take this as a QPR thing or romance thing, why not?)! And, might I add, severely underrated when it has elements of radiobelle, radioapple, and radiostatic (in terms of colors at least) wrapped up together- HOW ARE PEOPLE SLEEPING ON THIS SHIP HELLO???

Joking aside, Emily and Alastor are in a weird place for me where I like them in this ship dynamic (QPR or romantic), but I also like them in a dynamic similar to what Alastor and Charlie have if you're going the mentor-protege route or parent-child route. Which is a very strange to like those two very opposing dynamics (primarily the lovey dovey and parent-child aspects because y'know... )

I don't imagine these two will really interact much in canon, but I really would love to see how their interactions would go down and if they'd be at all different from how Charlie and Alastor interact (seeing as Emily and Charlie are a wee bit similar y'know?)

[alllgator-blood]

Okay I promise my next post will be the angst comic part 4 but FIRST. THE ONE AND ONLY THING I SHIP

LITERALLY THE SECOND PERSON WHO GUESSED THE PAIRING GOT IT CORRECT??? THAT WAS FAST. This is a situation where I have to go "okay hear me out" because it makes 0 sense to anyone but me. This is really long and very dependent on my au comic nobody but me has read, but the TL;DR is:

I feel like they'd be a good pairing because shamura loves to learn but doesn't care about material goods, and mystic seller is used to all gods talking to them only BECAUSE they offer material goods. So when somebody actually wanted to know about *them* personally and what it's like to be a weird angel thing, the two established a bond. Also they're both agender and most likely asexual AND don't seem to be socially aware despite being ancient wise beings that know seemingly everything, so they understood each other like instantly.

I have a lot of sketches of them hanging out but here's a shitpost sketch thing I made AAAAAGES ago

Okay so from an in-game standpoint, mystic seller pops up to tell you how the post-game works with purgatory and all that, and introduces the purged bosses. Really ratau could've done that as the established Tutorial Guy, or even narinder but there IS the chance that you killed both of them (lol) so mystic seller is the unkillable, all-knowing angel that shows up to say "you suck at killing people. The bishops are trapped in purgatory, you know. You should probably do something about that".

But from like a CHARACTER standpoint what do they stand to gain? They're not even from your dimension so why should they care, they're just here for your god tears? From the dialogue about the bishops we can see that they don't really give a shit about any of them, EXCEPT! SHAMURA? Mystic seller doesn't feel emotions like "our kind" does but one of the only times they do, it's to say it's a shame what happened to shamura. They also say they didn't barter with them much, because they "needed little".

SO THAT HAD ME THINKING. My au comic (which is hundreds of sketched panels and the full thing will never see the light of day unless I post it unfinished. Eugh) is about shamura going around chronicling everything they witnessed during the time they were alive, and they notice everyone is like...selfish. Trying to be the last god standing. Really obsessed with trinkets and charms, so some of the gods just go around harvesting relics from the other gods and using their powers to survive a little longer. Shamura has visions of the future of siblings they don't know they have yet, so they try to be friendly with the rest of the pantheon to form a family and it always bites them in the ass, so they have to kill them.

Eventually they end up with all these fuckin god tears and they're thinking "what do I even do with these? Nobody wants them and everyone has them", and BOOM. MYSTIC SELLER JUMPSCARE. They do the whole introduction where they say they have loot in exchange for god tears, shamura just drops off the tears and is like "I don't care about trinkets, bye" and the seller is like. What Thy Fuck. Because every other god is pretty adamant on getting something good in exchange for the tears. So they call them back and ask if there's ANYTHING at all they want. And shamura, being the self-proclaimed wisdom god, just asks the seller to talk about themself for a while, who's just like okkaaayyy?? Nobody else ever asked what it's like to be a bizarre circle headed angelic creature that collects magical bits and pieces, but shamura LOVES to learn, and the two bonded that way. Shamura would bring the mystic seller god tears, the seller would tell them a story, they'd write it down to put in their archives and the conversations eventually got more personal when the stories started to run out. They both realized they don't understand how other people work, but they knew how *each other* worked so they could kinda learn how to function as normal people with each other's observations.

When I say I ship them I mostly mean like a QPP situation because I think they'd be good partners in the most autistic asexual way possible, where they don't make out sloppy style or outright say "I love you", but they have an understanding of one another that doesn't apply to anyone else really. They don't have to rely on conventional relationship stuff to know the other one cares deeply for them in the most nonverbal, oddly specific way possible. I know shamura's the smart one but I really feel like that extends to everything except understanding how people work, hence all the stuff that happened with narinder and the rest of the family. So finding someone else outside the pantheon who is quite literally inhuman, otherworldly, genderless and uninterested in Carnal Desire would definitely make them feel the closest thing to romantic love that they can. Also, since mystic seller lets the gods name them, shamura named them "sunshine" after hearing one of their followers singing that "you are my sunshine" song to the person they loved the most. I always liked how shamura has their little moon crown and the mystic seller is depicted as the sun in some of the art? They go together well is what I'm saying and I'm kinda surprised nobody has done anything of them yet.

I WILL SAY I have angst planned for them once I do the introductory comics, it has to do with how narinder's imprisonment happened literally right in front of where mystic seller sets up shop, so canonically it's safe to assume they watched shamura get lobotomized in real time :')

But for now...I must go back to kallamar angst cause I've been putting off posting this part. It gets very mentally ill very quickly so I needed to balance it out with fluff......

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [19]

A couple days ago, or maybe it’s been a week now, there had been a horrid storm.

It had been bad enough on the surface but underwater it had caused extremely powerful currents that have dragged a very young Garth away and into the unknown.

He really should have listened to Atlan and stayed put…

Lost and alone, a Little Garth has found himself a lot closer to the surface than usual, the sea currents are still churning pretty bad and he simply can’t navigate his way back to anything remotely familiar.

At this point he’s quite hungry and tired, and he’s found that catching something is somewhat easier nearer to the surface.

However, now something entirely different has caught his attention.

still safely tucked away under the waves. Garth is watching two surface dwellers. judging by size they should be even younger than Garth is, which probably means their caretaker(s) are nearby.

Garth is about to leave them to it and go his own way when he catches on to the erratic kicking movements of the smallest one.

oh, he’s pretty sure surface dwellers aren’t supposed to stay underwater that long, that is if Atlan’s stories are correct.

And even though he’s somewhat terrified, he finds he can’t just… though he probably should…

Well, he ends up saving Danny from drowning.

Jazz and Danny’s parents are busy with a supposed haunted shipwreck and not paying attention.

But by saving Danny Garth found by Maddie and Jack. Who are worried that Garth is there all alone which is like... kinda hypocritical but whatever.

No ghost, but they got a sea boy!

and that quickly has them reassessing their disappointing conclusion that the wreck isn’t haunted, clearly the ghosts are somewhere underwater! After all, the ship was lost at sea and simply washed ashore.

Garth can’t really communicate that great with the Fenton’s. He doesn’t know english, and they do not have telepathy, the only thing he can catch from them is impressions of their emotions, which does make figuring out “yes” and “no” a bit easier.

At first he decides to accept their offer of shelter and food simply because he’s tired and hungry, and they seem like good people even if they are from the surface.

Then Garth makes the mistake of getting attached. All of a sudden he’s put in a eldest brother role. Jazz is determined to teach him english with her kid books and Danny has been attached to him like a barnacle ever since Garth got him out of the water.

And Garth’s needs aren’t even remotely treated as some sort of annoyance, they make note of his need for lots of water and adapt easily.

Everything is extremely overwhelming but thankfully for Garth they don't make the offer to take him with them to Amity Park right away.

They are on a family trip so they stick to the sea for another week and a half or so. After that they ask if he wants to just come with, Danny basically begs him, having an older brother seems like the best thing ever to him.

And Garth ends up taking the offer cause the last week was better than most of his lonely life so far, even if everything is weird and difficult and he can't communicate right.

[poofiewoofie]

[ In which Damian Wayne is dipped into the lazarus pits as a babe in order to ensure his perfection. During one such event, something comes out with him. ]

Cue overprotective ghost big bro wreaking havoc in the league of assassins and, eventually, the batfam. 

The relationship between Danny and Damian is simply:

Dami: He don't bite.

Literally anybody, getting mauled the moment they even look at Damian weird: YES HE DO

Some notes if I were to ever write this into anything:

This fic would take place in the "future". Danny, a borderline immortal being, has long since outlived his friends and family (with a few exceptions like Dani and a few people becoming ghosts). With this in mind, he doesn't really leave the ghost zone anymore unless he's incredibly bored. Aaaand since the ghost zone operates on a different scale of time and ghosts are weird, he's a bit out of his depth when he leaves. Thus: he embraces his ghost side almost full time.

Danny is of course the ghost king because you can't have a dpxdc fic without that trope.

Damian is 100% shipped to Bruce early, only because the league Can Not™️ with the kid's eldritch guard dog.

Danny "pranks" the league by being a creepy little shit. That, and doing the stupidest shit. Like slowly filling Ra's Al Ghul's private room with rubber ducks until it becomes unbearable. 

Let it be said that Ra's has definitely debated just murking his grandson to stop the rubber duck rebellion.

Danny doesn't like Bruce. Of all the batfam, he has it out especially for him. Probably something to do with being rich and having a creepy underground lair.

You know who Danny does like? Jason. Wow, what a shocker. 

Danny also definitely cheers Damian on when he tries to impale any of his adoptive siblings. It's a love language.

[shitty-mechs-headcannons]

All the mechs mechanisms are dodgy as hell

Oh Tim your trying to look at something ha your eyes are unfocused

Jonny being a bit too physically active? Oh shit, something's knocked out of place, there's a weird clicking noise and it h u r t s now

Ashes gets a bit of water in their lungs? Well the whole thing is fucked up now. You can't even soak that shit in rice to get the moisture out

Ivy accidentally downloads a bad virus? She's down for the count until someone is able to clean her out (and more often than not they have to kidnap and threaten some computer scientist or some such because not everyone who can help is always on the ship, and sometimes whoever can help doesn't have the expertise in how that planet's computers work)

Brian moves in the wrong way, gets shot in the wrong place, or any other number of things? Wait weeks for the metal of his mechanism to twist painfully back into place, or have someone open him up for a wildly invasive surgery to fix him, which he probably isn't always up for!

The Mechs are disabled mark my worms

-mod wil

[katyusha454]

I think I've found the most tragic ship in BG3 and I need to rant about it

I've seen a decent number of people discuss and write about Dark Justiciar Shadowheart, but they always focus on what she's like post-game when she's fully committed to Shar. Which is a fine thing to focus on! Especially when you're writing smut where she's a mean domme. Post-game DJ Shadowheart is a fascinating character. But I feel like people neglect to consider what she's like during the transition phase of Act 3, where she's become Shar's Chosen but hasn't yet Done The Thing that caps off her personal questline. And there is SO MUCH potential for angst and drama during that time frame.

IMO the most important aspect of this stage of her development is that she is not evil yet. She simply made a single bad decision and now she feels like she's in too deep to do anything but double down on it. She's spent her whole life trying to "fake it 'till you make it" and she's only just now starting to transition out of that and into sincere belief. All the misgivings and insecurities she's shared with you are still there, just buried deeper. That desire to love others and do good hasn't yet been completely stamped out. In my Dark Justiciar Origin run, I try to do good things whenever possible as long as I can find a way to rationalize it as benefiting Shar. (but I still ended up saying enough evil-sounding things to make Minthara incredibly horny for me)

So where does Karlach fit in?

Well, turns out when you play as Origin Shadowheart, Shar doesn't make you break up with your partner. In fact, Shar says absolutely nothing to you about your romantic situation. This is really weird if you're romancing anyone other than Karlach, but I think it makes perfect sense for Shar to tolerate a relationship with Karlach for the time being. It's the ideal opportunity for Shar to prove a point. Karlach is dying, and no matter what Shadowheart does, this relationship is going to end in painful loss. Shar wants Shadowheart to fall in love with Karlach only to have that love abruptly ripped away from her. It perfectly demonstrates everything Shar believes about love: that it's fleeting and will always hurt you in the long run. Better to just avoid it entirely so you don't get hurt.

And Shadowheart knows all this. She's studied Sharran scripture extensively, after all. She knows that Shar is trying to teach her a lesson, she knows that the longer the relationship lasts and the more emotionally intimate it gets, the more the end is going to hurt. So why doesn't she break it off? Partly it's because she loves Karlach and doesn't want to end things; she's probably in denial at least a little bit. But I think it's also partly because she's a bit of a masochist. She thinks she deserves to suffer because she knows, at least subconsciously, that she's still not a very good Sharran. She can see the loss coming and she hopes the experience will bring her closer to Shar.

You'd think Karlach would be unwilling to put up with DJ Shadowheart's fanatical bullshit, but personally I think Karlach would stick it out for a whole mess of reasons. Number one, she can still see the good in Shadowheart and she refuses to give up on her partner. She's clinging tightly to the hope that Shadowheart can still be redeemed, even though she probably understands that it's a long shot at best.

Number two, she blames herself. When you play as Tav/Durge or another Origin, Shadowheart will have a conversation with you before deciding what to do in the Shadowfell. But if you play as Shadowheart, none of your companions says a word to you. In the context of this ship, I choose to interpret that as Karlach being too trusting. She's seen the good in Shadowheart, after all. She's so certain Shadowheart will do the right thing that she doesn't think she needs to speak up. It's not until too late that she realizes what Shadowheart needed was for someone to say "hey, are you sure about this?" So now she feels she needs to make up for that failure somehow by continuing to try and nudge Shadowheart in the right direction even though it seems impossible.

And number three, Karlach's just plain lonely. As fucked-up as this relationship is, she's still getting companionship and intimacy, and she doesn't think she has time to cultivate a new relationship if she breaks up with Shadowheart. She wants someone to be with her and hold her hand at the end, even if that someone is a brainwashed cultist.

In sum, both of them know that their relationship is extremely unhealthy; that it's hurting them now and will hurt them more in the future. But they both refuse to end it for their own reasons. And good gods, the ANGST. ARE YOU FEELING IT NOW, MISTER KRABS?

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

My Place or Yours? [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Ship: Joel Miller x you/f!reader

Tags/warnings: Reader doesn't like weddings, kissing.

Summary: You're being tortured at a wedding, but there is a man there who saves your evening.

Words: 1,550

A/N: This is written for the Summer Lovin' challenge by @pedgito, who also made the moodboard. I picked the theme 'wedding', which was a weird choice for me because I really hate weddings, but I got Joel to help me get through it. Enjoy!

”I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Had those magic words only been the end of your misery, this day would have been easy-peasy. But no, you wouldn’t get off the hook that easily. It was only the beginning of an evening filled with awkward speeches, parental tears, and drunk best men giving dubious toasts.

You just don’t do weddings well. Anyone you ever talked to would tell you that it’s because you’ve been burned, because you’re single, ”once you find Mr Right you’ll start to plan your own wedding!”, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe that’s true, but with your disposition, it doesn’t seem likely that you’ll ever understand the point of paying hundreds of thousands of dollars for one single day during which both your parents get to watch you make out after a minister has sprinkled some magic words over the two of you. It’s just not in your nature. You never dreamed about a fairytale wedding when you were little, and you thought your friends would wise up when you got older, but no. As soon as the question was popped, they all reverted back to their childhood selves, and began planning as if for the event of the millennia.

You’ve been to three weddings these last few years, and it doesn’t get any easier. It’s embarrassing, lavish, awkward, and weird. And as always, you’re there without a partner, and must sit there with a fake smile plastered on your face, with no one to bitch to. At least you’re not the only single one at this wedding; that’s happened before, and even if you didn’t mind being single, you were definitely feeling blue when you got home that night.

At least dinner is good. This particular bride isn’t following any fad diets that she’s forcing on everybody, so you’re enjoying a really delicious three course meal. Still, what would a wedding dinner be without interruptions in the form of long, meandering speeches? You are forced to put down your cutlery one too many times, and by the time you’re finishing your delicious medium rare steak, it’s already cold. Chasing leftover sauce with a piece of bread, you nod encouragingly at the waiter asking you if you want more wine. You want to ask them to leave the bottle, but they probably wouldn’t find it funny.

Too tired to make polite conversation, you start to wait for the unofficial break between main course and dessert, when people get up to stretch their legs. It’s your opportunity to get away for a bit. You even have a modus operandi for it: you bum a cigarette from one of the smokers even though you’ve never smoked, go to the side, and pretend to smoke it for as long as you can. If the venue is nice, you then walk around and inspect it. This wedding offers a lot in that aspect: it’s a big house, almost a mansion, in the countryside, with a park and lots of smaller, old buildings on the premises. Perfect for hiding, and then you can just return back to the dining-hall late and blame getting lost.

When the break finally is announced, you let the smokers leave first. By the time they're greedily sucking on their cigarettes, you show up and ask for one. Cigarette in hand, and nod in agreement with the light conversation: yes, it was a beautiful ceremony, yes, the dinner is delicious, yes, the bride is so pretty and the groom so handsome. Eventually, you make a break for it, saying something about wanting to see the premises. So you walk away, flicking away the pillar of ash on your unsmoked cigarette.

The din of the house grows distant as you walk across the yard, shamelessly dropping the cigarette and crushing it with your foot before heading for the garden, quickly as if to escape the disgusting smoke. Once you reach the first, fragrant rose bushes, you start to relax. You find a bench and sink down on it with a relieved sigh. The light breeze smells of oleander, the birds are chirping, and it's pleasantly warm. Perfect.

You dig into your evening bag and check your phone. No messages, of course: most of your friends are at the wedding. Putting the phone away to instead enjoy the garden, you remain seated for a little longer than you know is considered polite. When you finally rise to go back, you notice someone approaching you. A man, around your age, a friend of the groom's, you think, but you've never talked to him.

"Hi," he calls out. "You okay?"

"Sure," you nod easily, "I just needed some air."

"A lot calmer here, isn't it?" He's standing in front of you now, all broad shoulders and narrow hips. Very handsome, but you're feeling defensive, and when your answer delays a little too long, he clears his throat.

"Sorry. Hi." He extends his right hand. "Joel. I'm a friend of Mark's."

You take his hand and give him your name. He doesn't let go immediately after shaking your hand.

"Nice to meet you." That smile. Goddammit, that's a charming smile. When his warm hand finally unclasps yours, you want to reach for it again.

"Can I help you, Joel?" you ask instead, trying to sound unperturbed.

"I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

He shrugs lightly, passing a hand over his hair. A curl bounces back to gently lick his forehead.

"You just looked like you weren't maybe having such a good time."

Well, shit. You thought you  had been keeping a straight face, but clearly you had failed. Your gaze flickers, and you clear your throat.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m not good at weddings.”

He chuckles low, but not maliciously.

“It shows.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to keep a straight face for all these hours,” you snap, a little harsher than intended. Joel holds his hand to his chest.

“Didn’t mean to offend you.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry. We better get back before they send out a search party.”

“Hey, lemme make it up to you. Can I have the first dance with you?”

Frowning, you eye him, expecting him to be joking. But his gaze is open and honest.

“Sure,” you eventually smile. “Find me when the dancing starts.”

And so it is that after dessert and another couple of meandering speeches, after the bride and groom have danced their first dance, Joel finds you in the crowd. He leads you to the dancefloor with a steady hand, and when he puts his arm around your waist, you don’t mind that his hand comes to a rest a little lower than expected. He keeps eye contact, but not in a creepy way as he makes small talk, asking you about your life more than he talks about his own. He seems genuinely interested in you, and that makes your head swim more than the alcohol.

When the music changes to something more energetic, you pull him to the side.

“Not my cup of tea,” you explain, and he nods, seemingly happy with being off the dancefloor as people begin to shake their asses.

“A drink?”

“Sure.”

He takes you to the bar and you both get drinks. The bride and her bridesmaids are cheering loudly on the dancefloor, and the noise is beginning to wear you down.

“Let’s go out?” you suggest to Joel, who nods.

There are some people scattered around the yard, but the garden is empty. The smell of roses is even stronger now when the hour is late, and you notice that you’re actually enjoying yourself. Joel is so easy to talk to, you’re comfortable in his company, and he makes you laugh.

“Hey,” you finally say. “Thanks for not being weird about me not liking weddings.”

“Why would I be weird about it?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

“Because everybody loves weddings, and I just can’t,” you shrug, but with a hint of desperation in your voice. “And if you don’t like them, then you’re just bitter and probably in need of the right person to have your own wedding with.”

He’s quiet for a moment, sips his drink.

“I know I can keep a secret,” he starts, his voice low, “but can you?”

“I can.”

“I don’t like weddings, either.”

You stare at him for a moment before slapping his arm.

“You could’ve told me earlier!”

He laughs. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”

“Asshole!” you blurt out, but can’t say more, because Joel’s lips are on yours, and you drop your glass on the gravel where it shatters, splashing liquor over your feet. And you don’t give a single goddamn. Your hands come up to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and you kiss him back, tasting the whiskey on him, a peppery twang from the steak he had earlier, the bristles on his face scratching your skin.

When you finally have to step back to take a breather, he licks his lips and looks at you with heavy-lidded, dreamy eyes.

“Not too soon?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Just perfect.”

He grins. “How soon d’you think it would be polite to leave?”

“I don’t care, we’ve suffered enough. My place or yours?”