#and like that kind of stress does the like.

[ms-demeanor]

Hey friend! So while I'm incredibly skeptical, I'm not strictly against alternative medicine, like you are. I saw you mention reiki, and thought you might geek out on this article like I did:

https://web.archive.org/web/20200308195914/https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/04/reiki-cant-possibly-work-so-why-does-it/606808/

It's called "Reiki Can't Possibly Work. So Why Does It?" and I highly encourage reading the whole thing. It first of all thoroughly debunks a lot of the claims reiki practitioners make but it also details all of the studies that have proven its effectiveness and provides what I find a pretty compelling explanation: that much of modern western medicine is stressful and traumatizing. Of course laying in a quiet room with the lights dimmed while a kind person sits with you and wishes for you to be well is effective. It reduces stress and all of the negative biological processes it triggers, which promotes healing.

The article mentions that for years we didn't understand the mechanism by which acetaminophen worked - we just knew it did. I knew a man who was really into "chakra therapy" in the 90s where he had a set of colored sunglasses that, supposedly, would rebalance one's out-of-whack chakras through light therapy. He found that attending to his throat chakra, yellow, helped him sleep better. Years later, formal studies found that yellow lenses filter blue light and can help regulate circadian rhythms.

When I was really little, my uncle sold magnet therapy products (which claimed to promote circulation?? I think??). I had a huge meltdown at a family reunion and no one could get me to calm down. My uncle put a blanket full of magnets on top of me, and I immediately relaxed. Imagine my surprise hearing that story for the first time as an adult who now uses a weighted blanket for stress.

I agree that people need to be really careful about these practices, about getting scammed, and especially about herbal supplements that can have dangerous interactions. I also think there's an extent to which you can analyze the risks and benefits and say, "Okay, I have no idea why this works but it does and there's no major downsides."

Hey so I get a bit heated in this response but I want you to know that I approached this ask in good faith because I know you and I know that we have a lot of the same values and interests and this touched a nerve that was not at all your fault and once I get past the direct response to the article I think I come off a little less. Um. Like the aggression there is not directed at you, it's directed at the article and at one person mentioned in the article specifically who is part of why my reaction to the article is so not good. But I promise after the last bullet point I come off as less reactive, I think. (I'm also publishing this publicly because I think it may be helpful for people to see how CAM stuff often gets away with a veneer of skepticism-that-isn't-actually-skepticism - the article claims to be skeptical but then makes a ton of assumptions and cites some truly mind-bogglingly bad sources that a lot of people won't recognize as bad if they don't have a hair trigger trained by far too much time on the bad CAM parts of the internet).

I've actually read that article a few time times, and would like to do a quick rundown on why I find it unconvincing:

She doesn't cite any decent studies on reiki; one that she does cite is just a self-reported questionnaire response from 23 people in 2002.

While we don't know the exact mechanism of action for acetaminophen, we do know that it does work - it measurably reduces fever and in double blinded RCTs produces reproduceable results in reducing certain kinds of pain. The Science Based Medicine authors cited in the article who called for an end to studies on reiki did so both because there is no plausible mechanism of action for reiki (specifically as energy work, not as 'being in a room with a patient person who listens to you') and because there is no good evidence that it works. (And they wrote a follow-up to the Atlantic article; I like SBM but it's quite sneery, as are most of their write-ups of reiki). When Kisner asks "why should this be different?" when comparing reiki and acetaminophen, the answer is: because there is not only no plausible way that reiki *could* work, there is not any good evidence we have that it works better than placebo.

"Various non-Western practices have become popular complements to conventional medicine in the past few decades, chief among them yoga, meditation, and acupuncture, all of which have been the subject of rigorous scientific studies that have established and explained their effectiveness." This one sentence needs probably twenty or so links in response, suffice it to say that western medicine has emphatically not established and explained the effectiveness of AT LEAST acupuncture and the casually credulous way Kisner accepts that acupuncture is effective (effective FOR WHAT?) throws some serious doubt on her ability to assess these kinds of things.

The title of the article is "Reiki can't possibly work, so why does it?" and that's probably the Atlantic's fault more than Jordan Kisner's fault, but she doesn't ever demonstrate that it works. She says she got a buzzy feeling after her training, she says that patients at the VA were asking for reiki as treatment for pain and sleep disorders, she says that people remembered "healing touches" from parents and loved ones and that the same mechanism might be what makes reiki 'work.' She says that reiki "has been shown by various studies that pass evidentiary muster to help patients in a variety of ways when used as a complementary practice" and the two studies that she includes that weren't just a questionnaire were 1) a non-blinded study of heart rate variability post heart attack where the reiki arm involved continuous interaction with a trained nurse and the other two arms involved resting quietly or classical music (so relaxation as a result of additional focused attention by attentive medical professionals could account for this? Why was the control for this study not having a med student sit and hold the patient's hand?) and 2) a study of patients who sought out reiki who were surveyed after treatment and noted improvement on one of twenty mental or physical markers (this study is like, GOLD for an example of a bad study; no control, self-selected participants who believe in the efficacy of the intervention, exceptionally broad criteria for a positive result - I find it really really really challenging to grant any credence to someone who confidently cited this as an example of reiki "working")

Near the end of the article she says "At the same time, this recalled the most cutting-edge, Harvard-stamped science I’d read in my research: Ted Kaptchuk’s finding that the placebo effect is a real, measurable, biological healing response to “an act of caring.” - if she read any of Ted Kaptchuk's research she didn't link to it; what she did link to was a 2018 New York Times profile of him and Kathryn Hall, researchers at Harvard's Placebo Studies and the Therapeutic Encounter program. Being any flavor of journalist and citing Ted Kaptchuk as your source for cutting-edge, institutionally-backed science is disqualifying.

I now need to do some yelling about Ted Kaptchuk.

For clarity: I have as much medical training as Kathryn Hall and Ted Kaptchuk, which is to say: None.

Hall is a microbiologist with a PhD in Public Health, so she at least a background in science. Kaptchuk is an acupuncturist with a BA in East Asian studies and a doctorate in Chinese medicine - notably NOT a medical degree; he was forced to stop calling himself a doctor and had papers retracted after enough people questioned whether the school he claimed he attended even existed and the documents he presented to claim that he was an "OMD" were conclusively translated and did not have any indication that the granted a medical degree of any kind - Science Based Medicine was involved in investigating this because they've been comprehensively anti-quack forever and Ted Kaptchuk has been a quack forever (after recieving confirmation from the government of Macau that Kaptchuk's alma mater was not a medical degree granting institution SBM STILL gave him the benefit of the doubt and had people translate his documentation for final confirmation).

He is also an author on of one of my most beloathed ever studies, which showed that sham acupuncture, placebo, and albuterol all produced the same effect on patient-reported well-being, coming to the conclusion that patient reports can be unreliable and that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma." That fucking line, that stupid goddamned line, gets cited in every piece of woo bullshit about how acupuncture or chiropractic or some scam-ass diet all work, I've run into this study while looking through at least twenty bibliographies and it is one of the biggest, reddest flags that whoever is writing the paper you're reading is full up on some bullshit. Because, see, the paper found that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma" in terms of *patient-reported* markers, but the fucking study found that only albuterol produced an actual effect in lung function. Here's the sentence BEFORE the one that gets cited all the time: "Although albuterol, but not the two placebo interventions, improved FEV1 [forced expiratory volume in one second - the measure for lung function used in the study and used to diagnose asthma] in these patients with asthma, albuterol provided no incremental benefit with respect to the self-reported outcomes." It doesn't matter if the patient *feels* better if they can't actually breathe! It doesn't fucking matter - feeling better but still having poor breathing leaves you more vulnerable to dying of a fucking asthma attack! I hate this goddamned study so fucking much and it's used all the time to claim that placebo can be just as effective as medicine for making people FEEL better but, like, they're still sick even if they feel better! I HAVE HAD PEOPLE CITE THIS STUPID FUCKING STUDY TO ME AS EVIDENCE THAT I DON'T CARE ENOUGH ABOUT TREATING MY FUCKING ASTHMA BECAUSE I DON'T GET ACUPUNCTURE TO TREAT MY FUCKING ASTHMA. If sham acupuncture makes you feel better when you've got the flu but doesn't lower your fever or make you less contagious, you shouldn't act like you don't have a fever or aren't contagious this study makes me INSANE.

Okay done yelling.

I think this look at placebo in the midst of her article about reiki is really interesting because it's very common for CAM practitioners to claim that it's as effective as placebo - which just means that it's not effective. This is a great explanation from The Skeptic on why placebo isn't and can't be what Kaptchuk, Hall, and the like claim. It's also interesting to me that Kisner didn't choose to link to a 2011 New Yorker profile of Kaptchuk that is somewhat less rosy about his placebo studies and includes this absolutely crushing statement: "the placebo effect doesn’t appear to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trivers suggests that this is because most people who have Alzheimer’s disease are unable to anticipate the future and are therefore unable to prepare for it."

But to the actual point of the ask: I honestly think it's fascinating how much CAM success probably rides on "well did you listen to the patient and pay attention to what was wrong with them and sympathize with them and help them lay out plan that made them feel like they had some agency in this exceptionally frustrating situation (chronic illness, newly diagnosed issue, totally undiagnosed issue) that they're dealing with?"

I know part of why people with chronic illnesses turn to CAM is because they're ignored and dismissed by allopathic practitioners who are largely looking for horses, not zebras - this is one of the reasons that I'm really big on reminding people that (at least in the US) DOs are fully licensed physicians who use a holistic and patient-centered approach so if you are someone with a chronic illness who has had trouble getting diagnosed or had trouble getting doctors to believe you, swapping your MD for a DO as a primary care physician might be really, really helpful to you.

But the flip side of that is that is that I worry deeply about the question of where harm starts; the example with your uncle is really great because you do have a solid instance of something working but for totally the wrong reason (pressure being the mechanism that actually helped, versus magnets being the reason given by the person who did the treatment). Some of this stuff has very little likelihood of causing direct harm, but has the distinct possibility of having indirect harms, which people in the anti-CAM space generally divide into two categories, treatment delay and unnecessary costs (opportunity costs, monetary costs, wasted effort, etc.)

I'm going to step outside of your specific example and look at magnet therapy generally, which really is a spectacular thing to focus on because it honestly doesn't have any direct harms; nobody is allergic to magnets, the kinds of magnets used aren't strong enough to interfere with medical devices, it's even safer than the whole "well herbalism is sometimes just a cup of tea" thing because there are "safe" teas that can do real harm to large populations! But simply being around magnets is not going to hurt anyone (unless they're swallowed; nobody swallow magnets please).

One of the things that I think goes under-discussed when talking about placebo and CAM is that the people trying the alternative solutions desperately WANT the alternative medicine to work (I suspect that this is why the self-selected study of reiki patients has such a significant finding). They are pulling for it; they may be looking at it as a last resort, or they may be hoping that it will work to avoid a treatment that is more frightening, expensive, or inaccessible. I think this actually contributes a lot to the delay of care that we see with CAM.

The absolute worst case harm I can imagine from magnetic therapy is delaying treatment. Let's suppose we've got a diabetic patient with gradually increasing peripheral neuropathy; they have reacted poorly to gabapentin in the past and are looking for something more natural, and they hear from their chiropractor that magnet therapy can be used to treat neuropathy. They buy some compression socks with "magnetic and earthing properties" and sleep in the socks. Whether through the compression controlling some edema or through the simple desire for the socks to work, they feel some relief from the nerve pain they were experiencing and decide that this is a success. The socks work! They continue wearing the socks with occasional pain, but less than before. However, because they are focused on the lack of pain, they don't notice that it's accompanied by increasing numbness. The numbness significantly increases their risk of injury to their feet, which significantly increases their risk of amputation.

It probably sounds like catastrophizing to say "using magnets could lead to amputation" but honestly I don't think it's that far out of the realm of possibility (every time I post on this topic I get flooded with the saddest stories in the world about people whose loved ones died because of delayed treatment for cancer or heart disease).

The second category of harm is cost, which is honestly pretty minimal with magnet therapy, as long as you aren't spending $1049 on a magnetic mat

or paying a chiropractor to give you magnetic treatments. For some other medically harmless treatments like reiki, cost is the thing that I worry about - while I was looking up information related to the article I found that people are charging anywhere from $60 to $225 a session, and selling multi-session packages for thousands of dollars - and if someone thinks that something works, even if it only works by being in a soothing space where someone cares about you - they'll pay for it.

I'm aware that all of this is also extra complicated because of the cost and lack of access to allopathic medicine - a chiropractor broke my spine because I could pay her $60 per appointment but I couldn't pay $125 to see an MD when I didn't have insurance. People who are sick are going to look for treatment; people who have been denied treatment or dismissed by doctors are going to look for alternative treatments.

But man, I really wish I'd spent that sixty bucks on half of a doctor's appointment because the chiropractor didn't know about the benign tumor that I had that weakened the structure of that particular bone when she did her adjustment; it also didn't make the pain go away, it made a different pain start and get worse because it turns out I was having debilitating muscle spasms that then had a bone injury added in on top.

(Chiropractic, for the record, goes with chelation therapy and many many many many cases of herbalism where it's NOT just cost or delay; people claim these treatments are harmless and they are not. They can do tremendous harm).

But yeah I'm not going to deny at all that all of this would be a hell of a lot better if people (especially marginalized people) didn't have to jump through hoops to prove to a doctor that something is wrong with them, and didn't have to do so in an appointment that attempts to cram whole person care down into fifteen minutes, and didn't have the possibility of bankrupting you. Interacting with allopathic medicine is a nightmare and I totally understand why people want to look outside of it for treatment.

I've just heard too many horror stories and seen too much predatory CAM to cut much of it any slack.

At the end of the SBM response to the Atlantic article, the author (I can't remember if it's Gorski or Novella) makes the point that reiki is a spiritual practice, and that we've known for a long time that spiritual practices can improve a person's well-being in a number of ways; they can reduce anxiety, they can provide community, they can give people a space to feel and express emotions that they certainly aren't going to be able to process in a doctor's office. Spiritual practices can be wonderful, and we know there are a lot of people who they can help. But they aren't medicine, and attempting to replace medicine with them (which I don't think that most reiki practitioners are trying to do, to be fair, but which Ted Kaptchuk DEFINITELY is in trying to 'harness the power of placebo') is a disservice to people who need an inhaler instead of acupuncture.

Also, and I know this was not your point but I have to bring it up because people ask about it whenever discussions of placebo come up:

The placebo effect is not treatment. The placebo effect, whether achieved through deception or when someone says loud and clear "this is a sugar pill" does not improve an illness, but it may improve how a patient *feels* about an illness. In some cases, this may as well be the same thing - if you're dealing with muscle pain because you're stressed and no matter what you do it doesn't go away because your shoulders are always up around your ears and you're grinding your teeth and you're sleeping poorly, then literally just talking to someone who is in an office and says "this is a sugar pill, go ahead and take it" may make your muscle pain feel better, but it isn't going to reduce your stress and it isn't going to last, and if your muscle pain is because you're feeling angina as a result of a partially blocked artery then it SURE AS FUCK is not going to make you better and may mask symptoms that were a warning sign of a much more serious problem. People who are sick deserve actual treatment, and placebo is not treatment, which is part of why Ted Kaptchuk makes me want to tear my hair out.

[thecatchat]

Okay, but now I'm imagining a Lion mayor who dated Tiger Mafia Boss when they were both teens in high school because they were both some of the highest scoring students and it was an academic rivals to lover things.

The thing is, they're both really observant and could see where they were both headed in life (Tiger to crime, Lion to politics) and ended up breaking up on mutual terms, although not until after they both pitched the other coming around to their respective sides first.

Imagine their respective surprises when they both end up in the same city (they both moved cities to try and avoid stepping on each other's paws). From there it's kinda a slow burn romance of not-enough-hatred-to-be-enemies to working-together-to-fight-worse-crime-boss-and-or-public-crisis to private-lovers-public-enemies to public-power-couple

Like, the Tiger is a crime Boss, but she has a kindness to her. She wants to give people who are broken down and tired a way to survive. While she does inspire fear, she mostly inspires loyalty in her crew, which is worth do much more than fear.

The Lion, while being an honest politician who holds steadfast in his opinions and doesn't accept bribes but he does have a rougher side. I'd like to imagine that catnip products are banned and he has a stash of them somewhere (politics is stressful). But he's not above verbally ripping someone to shreds with his words, he was king of the debate club for a reason.

@thebadchoicemachine

@teamfortresstwo

Behold, my creation!

[lexirosewrites]

It's traditional for parents to keep their pup's stuffed animals after they stop using them or decide they don't want them anymore for whatever reason in case they present as an Omega later in life and crave those things for their nest. It's a bit like a hope chest but it's filled with baby blankets, stuffies, and one or two larger blankets for a future nest. If the pup presents as something other than an Omega it's up to them what happens with the trunk since they won't be building nests.

By the 80s it's become normalized for high-bred parents who give birth to a son to collect those things after a certain age and dispose of them as a kind of superstition/way to say, "we know our superior genes will give us a Male Alpha so we can just get rid of all this stuff." Steve's parents are of this variety and take all his nice, soft things away from him when he turns seven. Originally they planned to let him keep everything until he turned ten but they agreed their son was a little too attached to his stuffies and dollies for a future Alpha and took them away early. They tear apart his room, take anything soft and "omegan" out, cover the soft blue walls in wallpaper, and move him to a double bed with starchy cotton sheets.

Steve hates it. He hates the feeling of rough cotton on his skin, the stiff blue jeans his mom makes him wear, and the scratchy, too-tight polos. Every now and then, he sneaks a softer shirt into the fold, and those become his favorites. He feels wrong and it makes him quick to temper and roo wrung out for school.

When he presents as an Omega at 17 he has a terrible false heat that lasts for five days. First heats usually only last a day or two and aren't full blown, but Omegas also usually have their packs present and ready to supply them with their chests and make them feel comfortable and safe. It's usually a time when packs bond as they teach the Omega how to build their first nest. Robin comes early on day three after not hearing from Steve for 48 hours and helps him through the rest. She rushes home and takes a blanket out of her own nest and a couple others from the living room and helps Steve build a nest to his own liking and helps him eat and drink.

Afterward, Robin tries to insist that he take more from her nest but he refuses because he knows how important those things are to settling an Omega and Robin is a ball of nerves as is. She relents but makes him keep the blanket and comes by at least once a week to roll around in his blankets to keep her scent fresh.

Once the kids start handing out with Eddie in their freshman year, the Alpha takes advantage of his new proximity to Steve to finally pursue him. He's been half in love with Steve since before he even presented as an Omega and has just been waiting for an in that didn't make him look like every other desperate Alpha chasing his tail. The guys all say he has no chance and he's going to make a fool of himself and to be fair, he kind of does. He amps up the dramatics and makes a fool out of himself on the daily, showering Steve with praise and admiration every time they meet and it isn't long before Steve is falling for this goofy, kind Alpha who makes him laugh.

When Steve invites Eddie to see his nest for the first time, Eddie is heartbroken at the lack of Steve's presence in his own nest. He has the blanket from Robin and a couple he bought after he presented but that's about it. Steve explains what his parents did and Eddie is so fucking mad and tells Steve so, but he lets his Omega pull him into the barren nest and scent him until they fall asleep.

Eddie wakes up early the next morning and sneaks out of bed and heads for the trailer. When he gets back to the Harrington house Steve is still asleep, so Eddie wakes him up with soft touches and light kisses all over his cheeks.

Eddie presented early due to stress at the age of 12 right before he moved in with Wayne. It's what ultimately got him removed from his Father's care. But the one thing Al Munson never got to touch was Eddie's presentation chest, which his mom had made sure to stash with Wayne before she died. When Wayne reunited him with his chest that first day at the trailer, he made sure to tell Eddie that he wouldn't think less of him, think him any less of an Alpha, if he decided to keep it, and so he did.

Eddie tells him that he knows it's not the same, but if Steve would like to have the contents of his presentation chest then Eddie would be more than happy to give it to him. Steve gladly accepts, crying tears of love into his Alpha's neck.

They spend the rest of the morning rearranging Steve's nest to include Eddie's favorite childhood toys and blankets, both of them relishing in the scent of home.

stopppp this is too sweet🥺😭

[chlix]

superbloom

bf! chan x fem! reader: you almost ruin your own proposal

pairing: chan x reader

genre: fluff!

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: public proposals, y/n is a bit of a mess but its ok

a/n: this is a request from @taevhs who requested reader accidentally saying no to her own proposal out of shock and stressing chan tf out (ask is linked HERE). i am SO sorry this took so long to get to 😭😭😭 i hope it was at least semi-worth the wait

The thing is: you should’ve seen it coming.

Chan is a lot of things, but he’s not subtle. Especially when he gets really into something. He’s good at disguising the planning, at worrying in private and then clearing his face when he sees you, but you know him too well. You can sense the vibe even without him saying anything.

And anyway, you’d talked about marriage before. You’d thought about wedding planning and what time of year would be best, who would you invite. You inquired about a marriage license. You planned on getting a better apartment together. You were engaged in everything but name. So really, the proposal was imminent. It was just a matter of waiting for all his plans to come to fruition. So, you played dumb when he started paying special attention to your hands and the rings you wore most often. You didn’t start fights when you noticed him texting your best friend more than usual. You pretended not to see when you saw him researching photographers on his open laptop. You were willing to play into the surprise, and honestly, you didn’t want to pry. You wanted to be enchanted and impressed when the time came. It would make it more exciting.

You must’ve had a lapse in mentality for a second, or perhaps you just had a lot on your mind that day, because when he asked if you wanted to play hooky and go on a day trip with him, you didn’t suspect a thing.

“How spontaneous,” you’d said, delighted.

He’d only smiled. “Gotta keep you on your toes, y’know.”

You didn’t notice how the nervousness pulled at his eyes as you called in sick to work and put on a cute blue dress. He suggests a white sundress, but you decline, feeling like it’s more of a blue kind of day. You don’t notice how he doesn’t comment on the choice the way he normally does.

Your destination was a botanical garden up north, a prospect that excites you. Your Instagram needed something to spruce it up and some photos against the foliage would be perfect to introduce a vernal vibe. He leads you over to a wall of hydrangeas, and helps you rearrange your hat and jewelry so they stand out in the bright afternoon sun.

"Okay so look left, now look up, now hold out your bag." He's always good at directing you for photos, copying the same directions he's been given on his various shoots, and you've become much better at taking direction the longer you've been together. 

"Okay now look at the flowers and pretend to pick off a petal. No, reach out a little farther. Okay, hold that." You hear his voice moving as he changes angles, trying to find exactly where the best shot is. Your eyes fixate on the hydrangeas, at the vast greenish blooms that are climbing up the trellises, smelling almost sickly sweet. For a moment you worry that the pale green of them might clash with your dress, but if that was the case then at least you have dozens of other photos in different locations. No great loss. Inside the bush, you can see small insects climbing along the branches. There are a few buds deep int he recesses, too young to push their way out and bloom. All whole world beneath you, sheltering in soft petals. A home for smaller creatures.

You get so distracted by the flowers themselves you don't notice that Chan has stopped speaking.

"Did you get it?" you call out. No response. You turn to where he was standing across the way.

He's gone.

Confusion settles in. Your eyes dart back and forth. "Baby? Where'd you go?" He's nowhere. You turn completely around, towards the other end of the wall of hydrangeas, and that's where you finally find Chan.....down on one knee.

Your vision immediately tunnels. His hair is out of place, as if he's been running his hands through it. He does that when he gets nervous. Your gaze darts down to see an open ring box in one hand, the gem glittering in the bright sun, nearly blinding you just from the intensity of its presence.

"Oh my god." You can't breathe. Your heart stutters in your chest.

"Y/n," he says, looking up at you with so much tenderness and love. "these past few years with you have as beautiful and perfect as a spring day. You're the most wonderful woman I've ever met, and I’ve never been so glad to know anyone. I never want our time together to end. I love you more than life itself.” He takes a breath then says those four words. “Will you marry me?"

Your brain short-circuits. It’s like the sun is dimming above you, your whole body struck still. You think of the hydrangeas washing out your dress, and the sun in your eyes, and all the people around watching you flounder and struggle for something to say. You’re so shocked and excited that it’s overwhelming you- cold sweat breaks out on your brow and you lose control of your mouth entirely so instead of saying a resounding "Yes!" the word that comes out is a very quiet "No..."

Chan freezes. The smile that had been spread across his face falls, his eyes dim. 

"No?" he asks, clearly unprepared for this answer. "You don't-"

His own shock snaps you out of yours and your brain kicks back into gear. Horror overwhelms you.

"Oh my god! No, no I just- I was thinking about how I look and how everyone is looking at us right now and I should've worn that white dress you suggested to me and now I've fucked up all the photos and-"

You can't tell if you're making it worse or making it better, so you give up. You grab him by the coat, haul him up, and kiss him.

Suddenly, there's movement around you, and several people burst out from behind the hydrangea bushes that surround you. You open your eyes and see all your friends and family swarming and excited. They were watching the whole thing. They’re all wearing white. Chan invited them so they could share in this happy moment with you. The people around you in the garden clap politely and call congratulations. You look up and notice someone pointing a camera at you a distance away. Chan had the whole thing filmed.

It's a picture-perfect proposal and you'd almost ruined it.

You step back from him, and god he still looks so unsure and you hate yourself for stealing even a little of his joy.

"Yes, Chan. Yes, I'll marry you. A thousand times yes."

Relief sinks into every part of his being, and he leans in to kiss you again. And then your friends and family reach you, and it's all chaos. Your friends are shattering excitedly at you about oh my god Y/N you don't know how hard it was to keep a secret we've been planning this for ages, and the guys in your friend group are clapping Chan on the back, giving more sincere congratulations than you've heard from them in years, but all of it is white noise to you. The only person who exists to you in this moment is Chan. The adrenaline slowly ekes away, and you feel more at peace, more right than you ever have before.

Later that night, you're sitting in your apartment flipping through some zines you'd picked up from the gift shop on the south end of the garden. Chan is in the kitchen putting away leftovers, and the TV is turned on low, white noise for your quiet evening. Your new ring gleams on your finger, and you can barely focus on the botanical facts you're wearing because it keeps catching your eye and distracting you with private glee.

You feel the couch dip as he sits down, and you lean into his side. His hand comes up to wrap around you automatically.

"You scared the shit out of me today," Chan says, and his tone is light but you know he's telling the absolute truth. You wince, setting the zine down and turning to face him properly.

"I was nervous about doing a public proposal," he continues. "I know you said you were okay with it but when I saw you panic I started to worry."

"I'm sorry. I really was just surprised. My mind was in a thousand different places."

You both know you have a tendency to put your foot in your mouth. It's rare you fumble on such a serious occasion, though.

"When you said no, I think my heart dropped into my stomach."

You sigh, cursing your past self for planting any seed of doubt in his mind. "I got overwhelmed. With love for you, I swear, but I started spiraling because I was so caught off guard. I regretted not wearing the white dress you told me to wear. I'd already been thinking that my blue dress clashed with the flowers, and then I realized you were proposing and I thought I'd ruined your whole plan. I felt bad.”

Chan let out a sigh, but it wasn't a tired or exasperated sigh. Instead, it was fond.

"You could've insisted on wearing sweatpants today and it wouldn't have ruined the proposal. You look beautiful in anything. All I wanted was your answer."

"You must've known that there was no way I would've said no."

"But you did."

"Out of shock! Cut me some slack, it's not every day you get proposed to! I've never done it before! I didn't know what to do with myself!"

"I've never proposed to anyone either," Chan says. "I was sweating bullets."

"I just thought it was the heat."

"You're a menace."

"I'm your fiancée," you say, and it's the first time you've said it out loud, and it fills you with so much excitement that a smile splits your face in half all over again. "I'm going to marry you soon."

Chan's smile is a twin of yours. "You are," he says. "And you've never done that either."

"We'll figure it out," you vow. "And I'll learn to watch my mouth."

"Please do. If you don't say "I do" at the altar, I'll collapse out of cardiac arrest."

"Then I guess I better start practicing," you tease. "I, F/N L/N, do take you, Christopher Bang, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I'll repeat it in the mirror every morning."

You're joking of course. You know that when the time comes to say vows, you won't be stuttering or stumbling over the words. They're already echoing in your head over and over again. You think you might start saying them in unrelated conversations, the words bursting out of you like water from a dam. I do, I do, I do.

Chan leans over, finally relaxed, and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes and bask in the attention.

Next time you’ll wear a white dress, and you won’t flinch for a second.

[jellymochii]

OT8 SKZ - What Kind of sub are they?

the sequel to dom!skz hcs

𐙚 pairings: ot8 sub!skz x fem!reader

𐙚 genre: SMUTTTTTTTTT

𐙚 cw: oh boy, where do I even start, dom!reader x sub!skz, cnc, pet play, dacryphilia, BDSM, oral (m and f receiving), shibari, masochism, mentions of knives, unprotected s3x (please don't), use of strap-ons, etc.

𐙚 wc: 2k

↪author's note: hello! sorry for procrastinating on this lol I'm still goin thru it. anyways this one contains some themes that may be nasty to some (like eating men out) so reader discretion is advised. Hope you enjoy!

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

Chan - Pleasure Sub

My sweet channie bug

He's totally obsessed with being your perfect little fuck doll

PLEASE use him and ride him whenever you want–even if he's busy in the studio, the others can wait.

Looooves when you ride him unprovoked. Feel free to take a seat whenever you feel like it. (Railway Reference lol??)

Even if he's overstimulated from how raw his cock feels from multiple orgasms, he'll always sit still and be your good boy!

“Fuck that's it baby, use my cock however you like.”

This is honestly such a good way for him to relieve stress too. Had a rough day at work? He'll flop into a chair and let you ride him for hours.

And his face is so so cute whenever he's about to cum. He gets all scrunched up with high pitched whines while he holds onto your love handles for dear life.

He's more than happy to let you manhandle him into any position you want for your pleasure–his thick cock can reach every single one of your spots without him even moving it!

Poor baby loves shutting off his brain after a rough day and becoming your brain dead little dollie~!

Subspace is so real and yet so sacred for him. He trusts you enough to treat him with respect no matter how rough you are–especially when he's oh so zoned out from pleasure and overstimulation.

Moral of the story–Chan would do anything to please you and let you use him to your heart's content–all out of love.

Lee Know - Brat

Just like in the previous parts–It's all a game to him.

And he is just soooooo stubborn about it too.

Likes to rile you up and tease you all day because he knows what's coming as soon as dinner is over.

Or, if he’s really misbehaving–you might just punish him then and there over the kitchen counter.

And this man is strong willed. It's gonna take a lot of patience to tame this man–and you're gonna have to do it over and over again each time.

He's decently strong and can handle any punishment you dish out at first, so be prepared to go for hours with him.

Your go to is to cuff his hands to the bottom of the bedframe and hover over him–forcing him to eat your pussy while you smack him if he refuses.

If he’s being extra bratty? Cuff his legs too and tie a vibrator to his dick and leave him there.

“Oh really? You think that's mmph–enough to break me?”

Or even worse, keep edging him with a fleshlight until tears start running down his face from the pain.

Eventually after many hours of smacking and edging, he'll go brain dead and obey your every command! Mindlessly eating you out and begging you to cum.

The worst part? He does all that teasing because of how much he loves being your little bratty whore.

Changbin - Pillow Princess

This one is kind of a hot take but

The man is exhausted. If he's not busting his ass in the studio he's pumping out any of his remaining energy at the gym.

You feel so bad knowing that he'll come home with a raging boner but no energy to do something about it.

That's where you, his sweet baby comes in!

Like Chan, you can ride him as much as you want and he'll take anything you give him.

Sometimes he just prefers to lay back and let you use your strap on him while he holds onto the pillow for dear life.

Eat him out pls!! It feels soooo good to him after a long day at work, and you don't even have to stroke him to make him cum if you do!

“Annngh~that feels so good, jagi.”

Eventually his grunts and moans will turn into high pitched whines when he's close, practically begging you to make him cum.

Binnie has a lot of trust in you in general, he's not used to being this vulnerable physically since he's usually perceived as the big and tough rock of the group.

But it's nice for him to come home and let out all of his emotions while cumming on your strap.

Pls treat him nicely he's gentle on the inside.

Hyunjin - Masochist

Hyunjin is by far one of the most loved idols in all of kpop. Everywhere he goes girls are dying for just a chance to touch his shirt.

But something about you treating him like shit in the bedroom (consensually) just makes him feel so alive.

He's always been the experimental type so when you suggested being the dominant one he was all for it, and over time his taste got more and more filthy–to the point he loved feeling pained.

His favorite position is being handcuffed on his knees while looking up at you with pleading eyes, as if he’s begging to be bruised and battered.

It starts out light–smacking him across the face and twisting his nipples, but his need for further stimulation made him into a starved man.

“More.” Is all he’ll say to earn a kick to his cock while your hand collapses over his throat choking him out.

The first time you ever did it he fell over in pain and…came.

Needless to say both of you were very surprised and he almost considered begging you to do it again right then and there.

His pain tolerance has gotten a lot better, which has made you have to get more aggressive in terms of choking–almost to the point where he’s turnt blue and about to pass out.

Even after you release, he’ll wheeze and look up at you while licking his lips and smirking in satisfaction.

He'd never dare tell anyone that despite his tough and charismatic exterior, he desires nothing more than to be broken down and degraded.

But hey, that's dopamine addict Hyunjin for you.

Han - Rope Bunny

Oh this man is nasty

Loves everything involving sex toys as it is, so when you brought up the idea of doing Shibari he was ecstatic.

And best believe he wants it all–being tied up, blindfolded, ballgagged, and edged to the end of eternity.

Acts so whiny and whimpery like he wasn't the one humping your leg an hour ago begging for you to tie him up and make him cum.

He loves the way your pretty rope designs highlight the best parts of his body ever so delicately. The ropes are so tight and snug around his wrists and ankles, making it impossible for him to move at all and make him feel helpless (he's never been harder.)

Poor whiny baby always begging you to let him cum with tears streaming down his face.

“P-Please, Mommy--I've been a good anghh boy, just please let me cum!”

He's so lost in pleasure he's begging for even just a taste of your sweet pussy to help him cum faster.

I'm a firm believer that he sticks his tongue out and pants like a dog when he's about to cum.

If you're feeling extra fun that night, you can even finger him or eat him out until his cock is spasming from how angry and red it is.

And yes, if it becomes too much for him he will squirt and probably be forced to clean it up later.

His orgasms are so pleasurable for him, he lives for this moment and loves enduring all that pain from being tied up just because of how amazing he feels after.

Felix - Service Sub

My sweet people pleaser lixie

You could tell him to steal a million dollars from Mr Beast and he’d be back in an hour with an extra 5 million.

The point is, he’d stop at nothing to please you.

It doesn't matter how kinky or nasty you’re feeling–he’s gonna deliver on his promise to do whatever you want.

You want him to eat you out for hours and make you cum? He’ll get as many orgasms out of you as possible. You want him tied up and pegged till he’s crying? No problem.

He's always watching your every facial expression attentively to see if there's any sign of satisfaction on your face.

“Mommy…do you like when I do that? I-I'm your good boy, right?”

And a good boy he is, always so doting and loving on you.

He looks up at you with his adorable boba eyes, even when there's tears in his eyes from overstimulation as if to say “You love me, right?”

Sometimes you like to toy with him by seeing how long he can go without cumming. You're often surprised by how long he can hold out, all for you.

Even with his angry red tip spasming from the lightest touch, the sheer overwhelming desire to make you happy lets him stop himself.

He's so sweet, please tell him what a good boy he is for you.

Seungmin - Puppy Sub

Ok so I know in the dom skz hcs I said that he's the one who enjoys treating YOU like a dog but hear me out–

I think it's fun for him both ways, he's the puppy of the group for a reason.

If he's feeling extra subby after a long day he'll put on his collar with your initials on it and snuggle up to you–signaling to you that he wants to let it all out.

Or if he's extra needy he'll crawl up to you on the couch and start humping your leg mercilessly like a dog.

The only difference is that he's not a bratty puppy like you, he's a sweet puppy!

He'll gladly eat you out for hours if it means he'll get his sweet release from you~

If he’s been extra mouthy that day and gotten on your last nerve, he’ll go in the very kennel he's so used to putting you in and have your vibrator tied to his tip while he whines and cries.

You’ll only let him out if he barks like a good puppy, of course.

“Mommy please! I've been a good puppy, I swear!”

You may as well just hold your hand out and let him rut his cock relentlessly into it.

He’ll get you back once he’s the dom though~

Jeongin - Prey Sub

All i gotta say is get ready to run, I hope you’re good on a treadmill.

There's nothing more exhilarating to Jeongin than the feeling of being chased through the woods by you, only to be caught and have his hole brutalized.

You talked this out extensively with him and made absolutely sure that this is what he wanted, and his face lit up with excitement.

You can even chase him down with a knife for extra adrenaline on his part. (pleeeease do not do this unless you know what you're doing.)

Even if you're just at home and you're feeling needy, he’ll look at you with a smug ass smirk and say “Oh yeah? You want me? Well, you better catch me first.”

It's almost comical watching him jump around furniture to “prevent” himself from being caught.

But that's not what he wants, he wants to be caught by you because he knows how good he's gonna feel underneath you–-so he'll run slower on purpose.

He loves feeling small and helpless underneath you (even when he's 10x stronger than you) and letting you use him like a whore.

He's typically face down ass up while you thrust unbearably fast with your strap, earning ungodly guttural moans and pleas of mercy.

The feeling of getting caught and ultimately punished for trying to run away from you makes his head fuzzy from all the primal urges swelling in his body.

And oh boy he could go for HOURS like that too.

It's all worth it to him at the end though, when he's soiled the sheets beneath him with layers of thick white cum.

[bungerisme]

I got a list

I wish there was more with Shelda, Floofty and eggabell, like yeah Shelda and Floofty got more content in the dlc but it does not feel like enough time. But EGGABELL still barely got scraps in the ending

I also wish there was more of the darker stuff, more hints that hey! The island is a parasite! Cause a friend mentioned how sudden it felt while watching RT game play it, and he covered a lot of ground and the more serious stuff in that game.

Triffany should’ve gotten a more in depth look into her preference for isolation during the dlc.

I don’t get much of the hype behind floofty. Love the non-binary rep especially since they lean away from the sterotypes that sadly are very frequent for non-binary people! And I love that they do fucked up sciences for the love of grumpus kind. But it doesn’t feel like enough to really let them stand out to me. Not their cause for being on the island or personality. I do have mad respect for the character. Just not a love like I got for some of the others.

I think gramble is a representation of pet hoarding and wiggle is a representation of plastic surgery addiction. (In reality I think all the grumpuses represent either a type of addiction, a reason why someone would have an addiction and so on cause I feel like bugsnax personally is a vague representation of substance abuse)

Beffica x Filbo fucking SUCKS! She verbally abused him throughout the game and continued to do so till they risked their damn lives. Like sure it’s cause she probably wanted to be friends with him and was just trying to chase him off so he didn’t get hurt like her old friends did. But that doesn’t exclude pre existing stress and how her words heavily impacted him as she was the main one who slapped him down. While sure I got a filbuddy bias. I think genuinely anyone x filbo would’ve been better than Beffica. Floofty, shelda, fucking CLUMBY. It just falls under the toxic tsundere trope and I hate it!

I want more backstory for cromdo. He has a number 1 dad tie in his room, ontop of that his grudge with Beffica seems to run deeper than just meeting on the island. Especially considering Beffica also used to be a journalist I would want to see more of them together and their general lore!!!

bugsnax fandom what’s a opinion that will get you like this

[eclipseberrycake]

Doll Face (Poly! Moonflower x Reader

AN: I like details dw! This gave me plenty of ideas to work on! I did kind of veer away from the Lolita things, mainly because I just don't understand it well enough to pay homage to it in a way that's both respectful and accurate. Plus, I know there's some fetish content out there catered to Lolita style that makes me a little uncomfortable, but Reader still dresses in a way that is fantastical and caters to the more feminine side!

Also, I know it said that they were made with Dandy, but I tweaked that just a bit because I think, lore wise, something happened with Dandy's creation?

This is a request!

☁ The details surrounding your creation are kinda amiss to be honest. Most of the other handlers didn't even know that Devan was married let alone to someone like your handler.

☁ She was known around Gardenview since she made all the costumes/ articles of clothing that the toons wore! So when Delilah and Arthur send word that you're getting your own toon, the other handlers are ecstatic for her!

☁ Dandy and the other mains are there when you're shown off for the first time. He's holding onto Astro, bouncing off the balls of his feet at the anticipation of it all. His own handler has to tell him to stop shaking poor Astro, who looks so dizzy they worry he'll collapse.

☁ When Delilah steps through, carrying you in her arms, both Dandy and Astro have to take a second. You're in a poofy dress, eyes wide and darting from one new thing to the next. You look unsure, but excited, eager to get to your feet and meet everyone, including your new handler.

☁ Your handler is holding Devan's hand so tightly he has to wince, but let's her do so, even if it makes Dandy snicker at the karma of it all.

☁ You're slowly set down in front of them, taking a moment to smooth out the fabric of your several petticoats, which twirl and swish with every one of your movements. You blink after it, eyes trailing over each handler and their accompanying toon before landing on Dandy and Astro. They look at you the same way you look at them. With wide eyes and tilted heads.

☁ Then you smile. "Hello! My name is...Well. I'm not too sure, actually." You hold a finger to your lips, looking back to Delilah, who gestures to your handler.

☁ You follow the gesture to your handler, blinking up at her once more before beaming. "Hello! I don't have a name, but they told me you're my handler!"

☁ Your handler grins, kneeling down and extending a hand. "I am. Welcome to Gardenview, Y/N."

☁ The newly bestowed names makes you absolutely preen, turning back to Astro and Dandy. "My name is Y/N! It's an absolute pleasure to meet you!"

☁ "I'm Dandy!" The flower chirps with a fluid bow before gesturing to the celestial beside him. "This is Astro. He's shy, but a good cuddle buddy!"

☁ Astro flushes a navy blue but does offer a near silent greeting.

☁ From there, your relationship absolutely flourishes. They help teach you the ropes on being a main, explaining the differences between them and the other commons.

☁ There are days spent giggling over something as simple as the pads on your fingers that mains have, but commons don't. You poke Dandy's and Astro's, watching their fingers curl at the prod, only for them to return the favor.

☁ They are there when your handler bestows a small centipede, painted all your favorite colors in the rainbow. All of them. It's all the colors.

☁ You name it Tilly after a night of brain storming with the other two, which makes it chirp at you. Tilly and Pebble get along great by the way.

☁ They're even there when the outbreak happens. You're forced to watch Dandy turn for the first time, Astro off with some kids in the Sky dome. You're the first he goes after, and it goes black before you can even register what happened.

☁ When you're returned, the first person you see is Astro. He looks more tired than he normally does, but the stress lines in his face immediately ease upon seeing you're awake. He immediately wraps you in tight hug, all sorts of words of relief flying from his lips.

☁ Astro isn't an overly protective partner, but he has his moments. The first few days your back are some of them. He's constantly in your shadow and ultimately wary of Tilly.

☁ Your twisted form was some cruel amalgamation of yourself and your beloved pet, with the upper half your once pristine features, only marred by ichor staining your cheeks rather than the blush normally there, and the lifeless red eyes. The bottom half was a larger version of Tilly's own body with several little legs that scurried along, crawling up walls and ceilings only to spit acidic mucus at the distractors. It gave him shivers thinking about it.

☁ When you're allowed back on runs, he's watching closely, practically on your heels while you figure out how to properly extract. You seem to be a natural at it, completing the first machine in no time. The others ding and finish quickly and you both make your way to the elevator. Just as you turn a corner, there's a twisted poppy who immediately spots your form, and Astro does have a moment of panic before you're hitting the creature away with your umbrella and dragging him along.

☁ He swears after that the stars in his eyes were always there, but you know better, giggling behind a hand as you poke his cheek.

☁ When the doors open, Dandy is already mid-spiel before pausing, eyes landing on you. His mouth drops open as you apprach, giving him a shy wave. "Hello, Dandicus."

☁ He swallows tightly, and you glance at Astro for some sort of support. The celestial himself stiffens, hand reaching to grab yours tightly. But Dandy soon smiles and Astro relaxes just the slightest.

☁ "You're as beautiful as the day we lost you." Dandy breathes out and you have to catch yourself from crying. You step forward to gently cup his features, looking into is multi-colored eyes as he cups your hands with his own. He presses a soft peck to your forehead before pulling away just enough to look at Astro. "Thank you. For letting me see them."

☁ Astro hums at this, placing a blanket covered hand on your back.

☁ He knows times running up and this is only emphasized more when the elevator gives a little click. Dandy is quick to retract at this, making you frown as you try to figure out whats happening.

☁ Dandy gives you a cheeky little wave before blowing a kiss in your and Astro's direction, smirking at the two of you. "I'll see you both soon, my sweet roses."

☁ After the outbreak, it's hard to keep a relationship with a toon only visible during certain floors and only for a reasonable time, but if you're dedicated, both Astro and Dandy are willing to work for it until they figure out a more permanent solution.

☁ Dandy also is a little wary of Tilly, but I think that's just because he's a flower and she's a bug and he doesn't like the odds that are there.

☁ Additionally, you all get to chat about your times as mains pre-outbreak. I firmly believe the mains used to go on all sorts of adventures back in the day.

☁ Like it's canon im actually Qwel's shoe trust. /j

☁ Astro gets you back into sewing in memory of your handler, and you take up making outfits for the rest of the toons! You're the only one allowed in your and Dandy's handlers old room, rooting through it for fabrics and patterns and learn how to work a sewing machine rather quickly.

☁ Astro is your live-in mannequin but you make sure Dandy gets his own share as well.

☁ Maybe eventually some day you guys do get dandy back, and get to live happily forever after, but until then, you're happy as you are and that's more than enough for them.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Iris: What are you doing?

Asher: Taking a break. Trying to get… inspired, I guess. Iris: Does that work? Asher: Sometimes.

Iris: I met someone. Asher: Oh yeah? Iris: I think he might be… nice. Asher: I can’t tell from your tone. That’s a good thing, right?

Iris: Is it? Asher: Yes. Nice is good. Iris: I don’t know. Doesn’t it get… boring? Asher: No. Being kind and considerate is how you show someone you care about them. It’s not boring.

Iris: Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that it works for you, but I guess I’m just the type that needs passion, y’know. Asher: Passion? Or drama? Iris: [rolling her eyes] You know what I mean.

Asher: No, I don’t. Nice and passionate are not mutually exclusive. You don’t need to be screaming and throwing shit at each other to have passion. The sooner you realize that, the better. You don’t exactly have the best track record for healthy relationships. Iris: Oh, and you do? Asher: Honestly, yes.

Iris: Please. You and your husband have separate rooms. Asher: So what? We’re under a lot of stress right now, and it’s overwhelming for Atlas to be around so many people all the time. He needs his space, and as his husband, I understand that. Iris: And that’s very kind and considerate of you. But can you really tell me there’s any passion there? When was the last time you two even slept in the same bed?

Asher: That’s none of your business. Iris: Exactly. Asher: [rolls his eyes] How did this become about me anyway? Aren’t we supposed to be talking about you and some guy you met? Iris: Yes.

Asher: Well, don’t string him along and play games with him just to ghost him when you get bored. If you’re not interested, then just walk away now. Iris: No. I don’t want to do any of that. I think I like him. Asher: So, what’s the problem? Iris: [shrugs]

Asher: Iris. Iris: What? Asher: If you like him, then give him a chance. Don’t self-sabotage, okay? You deserve to be with someone who is nice to you. Iris: …Thanks.

Iris: How do you do that? Asher: What? Iris: Always know the right thing to say.

Asher: Easy. I just think about what you would say, and then say the opposite. Iris: [laughs] Fuck you. Asher: I love you too.

Iris: You’re gonna be a really good dad. Asher: See, you’re learning already. Iris: Shut up. Asher: I’m kidding. Thank you, that means a lot.

[hannieehaee]

so happy to see requests are back!!! i love your writing so much!!! if you don't mind, my request is svt's reaction to reader having a chronic illness (ex. asthma)????

their s/o having a chronic illness

content: chronic illness, established relationship, no mention of an illness in specific, fluff, etc.

wc: 901

a/n: i don't have a chronic illness so i kept this kind of ambiguous, i hope you enjoy!!

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's such a caretaker at heart, he'll always be willing to do everything in his power to support your lifestyle in order to accommodate to your chronic illness. nothing is too much in his eyes, so if you need any special modifications to your home, your transport, or your life in general, he's there making sure it's done.

jeonghan -

as per usual, he'll baby you. no matter what it is, if you were struggling a little extra that day, his first instinct would be to baby you and coo and comfort you. he's got natural motherly instincts with everyone he loves, and you'd be the biggest receiver of this treatment. he'd help you in every possible way.

joshua -

as the very responsible and put together person he is, his mere presence would offer you comfort. he'd always have whatever you need at hand, always checking in on you if he happened to be away. if you were having a specially difficult way due to your chronic illness, he'd take the day off if possible (or leave work early) in order to be there for you with all your favorite things to at least try and take your mind off it and relax a bit.

jun -

would never want to make you feel out of place or singled out due to your chronic illness, so he'd make it a point to check with you to see what you were most comfortable with and what you'd need from him when your chronic illness acted up or when you just felt like you needed a little extra help. cutie's got the most empathetic heart ever so he'd always make you feel at ease.

soonyoung -

he'd be so interested in learning everything you have to tell him about your chronic illness, wanting to be an anchor for you and understanding of what you may need from him. sometimes he forgets you may have some limitations in certain areas, in which cases he'd immediately backtrack and come up with an alternative, never wanting to make you feel out of place and always wanting to include you in everything he does.

wonwoo -

makes your chronic illness just a part of your daily life, not highlighting it in any way that might make you feel bad or uncomfortable, but assimilating to any of your needs in a way so natural it feels like the norm. he gives me vibes of a caretaker, which would specially show itself on the days you were feeling down or your chronic illness was acting up. he'd be completely empathetic to your feelings, always hearing you out and taking care of you.

jihoon -

not gonna lie he probably stresses over you sometimes. he just stresses easily and he'd already feel bad for leaving you for extended periods of time, he'd have to be calling you every day to make sure you had a good day that day and to check if you needed anything from him. he makes any accommodation necessary in his studio so you feel comfortable spending long periods of time there, happy to have you close and comfortable.

seokmin -

i think he'd be very into taking care of his partner regardless of anything, so when it came to your chronic illness, he'd make sure he knew all there was to know in order to take some stuff off your plate whenever necessary. makes sure you always have whatever you need at hand and coo's at you if you ever need help from him with anything.

mingyu -

it'd pain him in a very personal and intimate way any time your chronic condition acted up. he'd literally drop everything to tend to you, making sure you had anything you needed and not caring about any of his surroundings. his focus would just be fully on you.

minghao -

he knows that home-made remedies arent always the answer, but he'd still offer you massages, mediation, special teas and ointments that his mother would make him as a child, etc in order to try and give you some relaxation on days where your chronic illness acted up. he'd provide you with a safe space and lend a sympathetic ear whenever you just couldn't deal with it all.

seungkwan -

he's always prepared in case of emergencies. anything you usually carry with you or need for your chronic illness, he has a set of his own that he carries around with him as back-up. he'd be the best bf when it came to making sure you were taken care of!!

vernon -

he'd make it as big of a deal as you'd want it to be. if you wanted to be lowkey about it and not put too much emphasis on your chronic illness, he'd still worry about you, but he'd act accordingly. however, if you were okay with him expressing his worries and taking care of you, he'd have peace of mind knowing he can at least try to help.

chan -

he lives to serve you (real). if you carry around an inhaler, he'd make sure he had one he carried with him too and maybe even another one at his place. if you had chronic pain, he'd have special furniture at home to accommodate to that, if you had any condition that required medicine-taking, he'd keep a schedule for it, calling you if he was away to make sure you were keeping up with it.

[nerdishpursuits]

This show really said Nihil sine Marta. There's no front where she doesn't have to do battle and defend. The sheer amount of pressure she's under right now is overwhelming. If Marta gets out of this without any health issues, I'd be surprised. At least there's a silver lining. For while most of the world is out to destroy her, she finds solace, passion and love in Fina's arms. They are each other's strength and watching them reaffirm their devotion and commitment to each other, time and again, is both heartwarming and inspiring.

I don't think I've ever seen such a well-developed sapphic relationship on TV. It feels like a breath of fresh air and it's a joy to watch it unfold and grow. They’ve planted their flag and defend it, standing tall in the face of so much adversity. How far they’ve come. Does it mean they are unafraid now? Of course not. But they are embracing their truth and choosing each other every day in spite of that fear. Because the love they have for each other is worth fighting for, is worth facing the entire world for.

Speaking of an unfolding narrative. They are truly putting them through the ringer. And it's most likely only the tip of the iceberg. The constant stress they are under is debilitating. Inimicus ante Portas: hurling their accusations, making their demands, snarling in condescension. There's blood in the water and Marta's enemies would only declare themselves sated if they were to witness her downfall, professionally and personally. At this point in the narrative, it's a miracle she's still standing. But like she confessed to Fina: as long as they have each other? Marta will not fall. Therefore, I find myself dreading the kind of blow that would bring Marta to her knees. The kind of blow that would pull Fina asunder too. Would it make for delicious angst? Certainly. Would it hurt? Most definitely.

Nevertheless, while all those fires rage and consume? Marta de la Reina continues on her own quest, one that bestows upon her the title of Great, True Romantic. Endangered too. For hopelessly romantic she is. Judging by the way Mafin is written? I'm inclined to think it's mostly penned by someone who is either profoundly in love, or someone who has loved beyond measure. I also suspect it's most likely a woman / women. For who else bleeds on the page this way? Don't you see, we only have each other. You are everything to me. My strength, everything. I am safe as long as you are safe. There is no turning back, I cannot conceive of my life without you. By your side, I feel that I can face the entire world. The only thing that could undo me is losing you ... I don't want you to suffer and endure humiliation the way that I have. My sole desire is for your safety ... You will not lose me ... I’ve spent half my life adrift, bound to the inertia of others, confined to the shadows, until I found her and she became my light. You cannot ask me to give her up, because you’d be asking me to die while my heart still beats.

It will be an arduous uphill battle but I think Marta's words are also prophetic in nature. There is no turning back for them. The road ahead is together, as one, no matter the sorrow, no matter the cost. Regardless of how much they'll have to wander? Through hope and despair and back again? As long as they have each other? They are not lost.

Speaking of their wanderings through the land of plot. Chairwoman Marta. Pelayo's confession that Marta is his lover, while briefly throwing Don Pedro off the scent, most likely feeds into Carpena’s misogyny. To me he comes across like the kind of man who, deep down, believes women don’t belong in business. The kind of man who thinks women only succeed when they play the seduction card. Which is infuriating for someone of Marta's caliber, who has worked her fingers to the bone to be worthy of her current position. Her intellect, determination and hard work won her the mantle of leadership. Maybe the show wasn't even trying to make this point but Carpena's immediate, sleazy grin upon hearing Pelayo's confession? It irked me because, of course, the only possible way Marta could have gained Pelayo's interest and favor? Her womanly wiles. Points for Pelayo, though. Seems like he's trying to be a good friend and protect Marta as much as he can. And on to rant some more (I'm afraid this post is getting out of hand - for the life of me, I can't seem to keep it short *sigh*)

I’m not one to cuss (much, eh @midniteowlet 😏?) but today it feels warranted. All the idiots coming out of the woodwork with pitch-forks and battle-rams and having lost their intellect, meagre as it is, along the way.

The Merino Bros & their mommy dearest, Pedro and, quite possibly, Tasio? A tomar por cu**.

Marta's face listening to lunacy after lunacy is an absolute poem.

Currently? Marta is the only one making informed decisions that benefit them all. Alongside Damián? She’s the only one who knows how to run the business so they all stand to gain and the workers have job security (I suppose Jesús has business acumen too but his Machiavellian ways leave a lot to be desired)

Which makes it pretty obvious they were going to try and take Marta down. That all these spineless, envious men cannot stand seeing a woman in power. A woman who outsmarts them at every turn and who actually thinks things through.

On the bright side? Should Marta lose the executive chair? I want to see how mama’s boy Joaquin goes running to Marta &. co. later, begging for help, because he’s sinking the business with his arsinine attitude and decisions. I want the Merino to fail so spectacularly they choke on it.

The business with the bathhouse will go up in flames because Joaquin and Luis lack intuition for business. What drives them is an underlying desire for vengeance and a need to satisfy their ego by calling the shots. Competency is not part of their vocabulary. They’re utterly insufferable, terribly immature and are woefully unprepared for what it means to be in charge. Their incompetency, if left unchecked, will prove disastrous for the company.

And then we have Digna. On the one hand? She lived up to her name and acted with dignity, keeping the promise she made Marta and Fina: that she would protect their secret and would never expose them. The fact that she made it clear to Pedro she wouldn't use such harmful rumors to hurt her niece, or the young woman she considers a daughter? It speaks of her capacity to empathize and understand. On the other hand? Her lack of business expertise shows in how she approaches the bathhouse project. She tries to gaslight Marta with talk of family and respect, while showing Marta absolutely no deference or familial support. Digna possesses zero knowledge about running a company. But she has the gall to lecture Marta about it, all because her crybaby sons demand instant gratification and loathe the fact that Marta is in power. The Merino are a sorry bunch and while I feel truly sorry for Gervasio’s demise? If he was as good a business man as his sons? I see why Damián felt he needed to run the company himself (I don’t agree with his methods, of course, but one cannot deny that the Merino family are an executive liability). It also irks me that Digna has the nerve to condescendingly call Marta daughter, while going behind her back and giving Tasio the proverbial knife, urging him to betray his sister. And to think Marta, generously and kindly, wanted to give Tasio a chance. Felt indebted to him, even, and wanted to start anew, as siblings. No matter how they twist and turn his character, he ends up falling short somehow. Or doesn't he?

And since Tasio dearest is next on the block? Much like the Merino brothers? A deplorably mediocre man, crying to Marta about how dependent he is on his wife. For how dare Marta send Carmen on a business trip, which is part of her responsibilities as store overseer, given he cannot function without her help?

Poor Tasio. Who’s going to do the dishes now, who’s going to iron his shirts and cook his meals? Woe be him. I honestly can’t with his level of incompetence and stupidity. To have the gall to launch veiled threats at Marta concerning her relationship with Fina (trying to take credit for piecing it all together while knowing full well it’s Carmen who dropped the ball, spectacularly might I add) and insinuating Marta is playing favorites? The level of idiocy this man possesses is truly astounding. As is the level of self-projection Tasio is doing here. Quite noteworthy.

If he only stopped to think for a minute, he’d realize:

1. Fina is Carmen’s right hand at the store. As such, she has the most experience to help out in this situation.

2. Marta emphasized it’s a temporary solution. Tasio’s entire reasoning here is a case of that aforementioned self-projection: he knows full well he’d show favoritism if he were in charge, which is something he confessed to Carmen he’d do. So Tasio filters Marta’s decision through his own, faulty thought-sieve. Heavens help him. Not to mention he's also easy to manipulate. That moral high-horse the Merino are riding? I can't wait to seem them all trampled into the dirt.

3. Mighty hypocritical of Tasio to claim Fina is being ascended (again, temporarily) due to special treatment, when his own promotion is a case of nepotism (unlike his wife, who Marta ascended based on her competence and hard work - wife, who Tasio never threw his support behind, too jealous of her new position). Same story with the shares Tasio received from Marta. His level of entitlement here? It’s that outlandish and that outrageous.

That being rambled? Because Tasio is often such a narrow-minded, pathetic little man? He might cast the deciding vote to remove Marta as CEO. For while Tasio often wants to best himself? He also remains profoundly petty, terribly misinformed and someone who shouldn't be sitting on board meetings. Were it not for Marta’s kindness and goodwill? He’d only have his father’s name and gratitude, and little else.

And what’s going to be Marta’s thank you for it all? Quite possibly a knife to the back. Should that occur, which it might, I do wonder how Tasio thinks he will fit within the de la Reina family in the aftermath? After all, his display of ''business shrewdness'' would prove ruinous. Even Jesús votes for Marta (because in spite of their differences he recognizes she is smart, would never vote against his family and sees the Merino brothers for the fools they truly are) And that’s saying something. So if Tasio really wants to become a pariah in the eyes of his new family? By all means. Vote with their incompetent adversaries. Ultimately, Damián will be more lenient in forgiving him, I suspect. But Tasio would be proving himself undeserving, uninformed, unreasonable and willfully ignorant. Of course, previews are often deliberately misleading and who knows, another Brutus might be lurking in the shadows. Andres maybe? He's so utterly useless, incompetent and easy to manipulate it's pathetic. If Jesús remains the only brother who amounts to anything? Oh, the laughter.

Sure, things might not go down that way at all. Marta might not lose the executive chair, Tasio might not vote against her while Andres could and Don Pedro could resort to blackmail to remove her from the board. As always, we shall see when the episode airs. But goddamn, these PEEople are beyond exhausting. Marta needs that vacation with Fina and she needs it yesterday.

P.s the last gif on the right? that's also me upon realizing how goddamn verbose this post is. Off to word-jail with me!!!

[mournwatch]

Hi again. Long post incoming and I apologize. It's just because I have a lot of thoughts about this, as a trans guy coming at this issue from another perspective. I'm not trying to fight but sort of... sing in reprisal if that makes sense lol. I think that this data could really use the context of how many AO3 authors writing sexual content about transmasc/trans man people are part of our community themselves. Knowing who is invested in writing this content is a crucial part of understanding what these statistics mean. (It's my hypothesis that the majority are trans, but this is not something I have checked.) And if it is majority trans people, I believe what we are seeing is not the sexualization of trans men by chasers or fetishists, but people exploring their own sexuality through a safe outlet in a community where they feel comfortable to do so.

I understand that the actual concern is that regardless of who is writing this content, there is a worry about harm being done by fic perpetuating trans men being burdened with feminizing/ fetishizing stereotypes. We did talk about this before and I remember. I think the perception of this harm is complicated considering that fandom spaces are by nature subcultural, and in mainstream (progressive/liberal) culture lives the inverse stereotype of trans men being held to standards of traditional masculinity. Between these two stereotypes, we are all just trying to find comfort and authenticity and somewhere to see ourselves reflected back.

I struggle to find any representation of gay trans men at all in most mainstream media content, and that is also sparse and tends to focus on adolescents anyway. Like Annie Marks' trans son Ben in the TV series Good Girls. I think the only nonhet romance with a transmasc character that I can think of in a widely viewed TV series was Jim and Oluwande in Our Flag Means Death. It's a vastly underrepresented category when you consider fiction as a whole (which does matter when talking about fandom since these source materials are the primary motivator for fan fiction to exist to begin with.) And that makes me also feel like there's plenty of space for people to fill that void with their own creations and experiences. Especially original content! Something I absolutely love to see.

With this in mind, this is just speculation based on my own experiences, but I don't think this stereotype would be so prevalent if it didn't resonate with people on a deeper level. There is an allure to being irrefutably trans in every way, but still a valued and active player in the fields of romance and sex. And to simultaneously break down the way people need men in society to be but still be seen and respected as a man/transmasc regardless of how many of these signifiers get eroded away. Because in fiction, you can do that, and having that escape is powerful. But yeah, it's worth asking these authors directly about their own thoughts on it. I personally completely understand the demand for this, because the kind of characters that I would make to represent myself and my sexuality almost never make it to TV, film, or games.

It truly is a stressful position to be in to hear about how the very thing that helped me be more comfortable with myself, my body, and my sexuality is the site of pain for other people in the community that I love. And I think a lot of others dont mean to be a source of anguish either. I'm speaking up partially even because I want to soothe some anxieties that might exist about the intentions of the people who write this sort of content who are similar to myself, and put a friendly face to it in a way. I don't know if any of this helped because I know big walls of text are intimidating, but I hope something here was meaningful. Thank you for looking into this data in the first place.

AO3 statistics for trans men

I looked at three main categories of ao3 stats: number of explicit fics, ratio of M/M to M/F fics, and different types of sex listed under "additional tags" (vaginal, oral, etc). There are definitely more things that could be looked at but these are what I focused on.

Explicit rating

At the time I collected these numbers (they've likely already changed, fic authors publish stuff fast) there were 14,221,609 total fics on ao3. Of those, 2,569,913 fics were rated "explicit," or 18.1% of fics. There were 91,487 fics tagged "trans male character," and of those, 43,845 were rated "explicit." That's 47.9% of fics tagged "trans male character."

Nearly half of all fics featuring trans men are explicit, compared to about a fifth of fics overall. This indicates that trans men are heavily sexualized in fandom spaces.

M/M vs M/F fics

For fics in general, there were about 2.0 times as many M/M fics as M/F fics (6,822,062 and 3,439,600, respectively). For fics tagged "trans male character," there were about 6.0 times as many M/M fics as M/F (68,507 and 11,359, respectively).

When filtering for fics rated "explicit," the difference in ratios is even more significant. Explicit fics in general had about 2.2 times as many M/M fics as M/F (1,616,555 and 743,455), while explicit fics tagged "trans male character" had 8.6 times as many M/M fics as M/F (38,490 and 4,489).

Fandoms in general tend to lean more towards M/M relationships than M/F relationships, but this discrepency is much stronger when it comes to trans men, and I'm not sure what the reason for that is. Trans men are more likely to be non-heterosexual than heterosexual, but not necessarily more likely to be attracted to men than women (a lot of trans men are bisexual, pansexual, queer, etc).

Trans male characters are more commonly shipped with men than women, to a greater extent than the overall fandom preference for M/M ships over M/F, and I'm not really sure why, but it's definitely interesting.

Additional tags

For explicit fics tagged as "trans male character," the most popular additional tag by far is "vaginal sex" at 13,685 fics (31.2% of explicit fics tagged "trans male character"). Since this tag doesn't necessarily refer to the trans male character (it could refer to a cis woman being vaginally penetrated by a trans male partner, for example), I filtered for fics tagged as M/M. That resulted in 12,504 fics tagged "vaginal sex," or 32.5% of explicit M/M fics tagged "trans male character."

Overall, for explicit fics tagged as "trans male character," the most common additional tags referring to different types of sex were:

Vaginal sex, at 13,685 fics

Vaginal fingering, at 9,908 fics

Oral sex, at 9,147 fics

Cunnilingus, at 7,712 fics

Anal sex, at 4,590 fics

There definitely are trans men out there who enjoy vaginal penetration/fingering or receiving cunnilingus, and many of the fics tagged as such might be reflective of that fairly common* experience for trans men. That being said, there is a really heavy emphasis on vaginas and vulvas in explicit fics about trans men, and I find that uncomfortable.**

*I think? Unsure how common it actually is

**BEFORE PEOPLE START MISINTERPRETING ME: I'm not saying I'm uncomfortable with trans men who enjoy using their vaginas/vulvas for sex, or the existence of that kind of fic. I'm saying that fandoms in general tend to focus on trans men having vaginas to an extent that I'm uncomfortable with.

[thoughtsbysofi]

Who’s Parenting Who? Remember, You’re Their Child, Not Their Savior.

Your parents are not your responsibility. They never were.

There’s a phenomenon I’ve been noticing lately—call it the parent trap, if you will. It’s what happens when kids grow up feeling like they have to parent their own parents. Maybe it’s because they saw too much, too soon: the overdue bills, the endless hours at work, the stress etched into their mother’s face. And because kids are wired to make sense of things—no matter how senseless—this one thought starts to take root: It’s my fault. This is because of me.

And it doesn’t help that some parents—whether they mean to or not—fuel the guilt. “I work this hard so you can have everything,” they’ll say. “I do it all for you.” Sure, it sounds noble, but let’s be real: to a kid, it’s less “noble” and more, Great. I’m the reason they’re miserable.

So what does the kid do? They start carrying a weight they were never meant to bear. They don’t want Mom to feel overworked. They don’t want Dad to seem defeated. They want to help, to fix it, to be the reason their parents are okay. And before you know it, you’ve got a 14-year-old with the emotional load of a 40-year-old.

I picture that kid putting on their dad’s oversized shoes. They’re stumbling around, tripping on the laces, but they’re trying. Oh, they’re trying. They’ve convinced themselves they can handle it. But the truth is, those shoes? They don’t fit. They never will.

Fast-forward a few decades. That kid is now an adult, still carrying that same weight—guilt, obligation, a constant need to prove their worth. They think they owe their parents for everything. For raising them. For providing. For existing. They can’t shake the feeling that they’ve got a tab to settle.

But here’s the thing, and I need you to hear this loud and clear: You don’t owe your parents for being born. Your existence is not a debt.

If I could pour a martini and sit down with that grown-up kid—now drowning in oversized emotional baggage—I’d say this: Your only job was to be a child. That’s it. Not to be their therapist, or their savior, or their financial planner. Yes, show gratitude. Yes, be kind. But no, you don’t need to give your life away just because they gave you yours.

Take off those too-big shoes. Drop the backpack stuffed with guilt, shame, and the belief that you’re responsible for everyone else’s happiness. It was never yours to carry.

Everywhere you go, people are walking around carrying something—shopping bags, tote bags, emotional baggage. But the truth is, you don’t need to carry what’s not yours. You’ve got your own life to walk through, and trust me, that’s enough weight for anyone.

So here’s to giving yourself the freedom to breathe.

-xoxo

[bonsiii-art]

Did you saw the new update of kingdom? What's your thoughts of the story so far?

I DIIID, completed the first part not too long ago! And holy hell, does it just make me excited to see how this all gets wrapped up in the second part. ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰʳᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ﹖ ʸᵉˢ, ʸᵉˢ ⁱ ᵈⁱᵈ.

First off, I wanna say that the Candy Apple reveal was really funny to me bc when I first played, I was like " Apple Faerie is so cute!! :V". But then, I thought " Wait, a character that was never showed in any of the promotional material leading up to this update AND has an apple motif like the villain cookie they're going to release??...suspicious." Man, it would've been really crazy if they actually hid Candy Apple's identity up until release for maximum impact. I was a little dissatisfied with Shadow Milk's lies in Beast Yeast Ep 2; Beast Yeast EP 7 completely turned that feeling around like omg ┌(。Д。)┐ I wanted Shmilk to really dig into Pure Vanilla this time around and the writing team delivered! It hurts so bad that Pure Vanilla really just wants to save everyone but everything that was shown to him just illustrates that he can't with the way he is now. Shmilk wants him to see that and believe that he's doomed with no way out. PV, likely in the second part, will push through that and persevere, finally accepting truth with a more optimistic outlook. I think the concept of time being mashed together within Shmilk's relm of influence is really cool :P. Because that means we're gonna possibly see Pre-Corrupted Shadow Milk and also that it makes the whole thing about Truthless Recluse even sadder. Looking back on TR's actions and words, he helps bc there's still a part of him that wants Gingerbrave and co. to succeed in saving their PV. And after they fought, TR is even more sure that they could. But they can't save him specifically. He who is part of a doomed future. I want to look over other scenes that Shadow Milk was in before this update later so that I get a better grasp of his character to draw more stuff. But this chunk of story we got gives me plenty to think about. Thinking mostly about what PV said when he was thinking of the Fount of Knowledge and how Shadow Milk responded. I'm not sure if I have it right but I have a feeling that Shmilk's corruption began with his loneliness. Trying to escape from his stress as the pillar of Knowledge, he attempted to be like those who embrace ignorance. And when he couldn't even find understanding there (referring to him being derisive towards the cookies who lived in 'blissfully in oblivion'), he went ballistic. There is no cookie that could truly understand his experiences and he's been sour about it ever since. He sees PV in the role he used to be in except, in his eyes, in a more bastardized way. Like the witches are spitting in his face as he sees PV smiling, full of hope. Also, kind of outlandish theory here: Y'know how all the beasts (so far) are like "that's my soul jam, give it back"? but what if the reason Shadow Milk isn't saying any of that is bc he already has the soul jam? The Beasts torture the Ancients physically and mentally in order to re-obtain the soul jams but if Shadow Milk already has it, then all that's going on in EP 7 is like a victory lap for him. ⚆_⚆

ALSO NEARLY FORGOT!! When is that Black Sapphire guy gonna come into play?? Is he just gonna be another Shmilk lackey or is he actually gonna help us? I'm kinda hoping he's the latter bc he's only got the other half of the update to make his mark and I would love a reversal of expectations-

[schemmentigfs]

oiii, could you make a kind of small and angry girlfriend x calm and tall girlfriend, with melissa being the short girlfriend and reader being the tall one, like no one from abbott can understand how the two were together being so different but they still complete each other. obg <3

The Calm to Her Storm.

Summary: What is it like to date a short, stressed woman that everyone in the workplace is afraid of? Well, you have the perfect answer to everyone’s question.

WC: 6.23k

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @kukikatt @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr

January in Philadelphia was a moody, unpredictable thing. One moment, the air was crisp and biting, the kind that nipped at your face and turned your breath into visible clouds. The next, it warmed unnaturally, tricking you into thinking spring might be around the corner, only to plunge back into bitter cold. This kind of back-and-forth wasn’t just a weather pattern; it mirrored Melissa Schemmenti’s energy. Unpredictable. Feisty. Fierce. At 5’1”, she was a storm packed into a deceptively small frame, quick on her feet and even quicker with her mouth.

Why does that matter, you even ask?

The right answer is simple, Melissa is the kind of woman who wears her anger like armor, ready to snap at anyone who dares question her or cross her. Her fiery demeanor, sharp tongue, and compact stature make her seem like a force of nature—small but mighty. She’s quick to react, often with an eye roll or a cutting remark, her temper never far from the surface. But beneath that exterior lies a loyalty as fierce as her temper. She’s protective of what matters to her, and that includes you.

Then there’s you–tall, calm, and always measured in your responses. The perfect balance. You stand above her by a good few inches, your movements deliberate and graceful, as if the world slowed down for you, while your girlfriend darted through it like an electric charge. You’re the counterbalance to her intensity, the calm in the storm. While she’s ready to bite, you’re the one who talks her down, your gentle presence soothing her when she’s worked up. People don’t get it, how someone like you could be with someone like her. But what they don’t see is how perfectly you two fit together.

It’s the little things that no one else notices. The way you can calm her with just a touch, the way her rants turn into soft-spoken words when she leans into you, the way you both find an unspoken understanding in silence. Even though you’re different, you’re exactly what each other needs. You ground her, and she lights a fire in you that you didn’t know you had.

Your daily routine together is a quiet, tender rhythm that reflects how well you complement each other in those five years of relationship.

In the mornings, when the alarm goes off, you’re the one who slowly rolls out of bed, your long limbs stretching languidly, while the redheaded woman’s eyes shoot open like she’s ready to attack the day, even if she’d much rather sleep. You laugh softly, reaching down to help her out of bed, your hand a contrast to her tiny one. The simple act of lifting her into your arms when she grumbles about not wanting to get up becomes a small, intimate moment of quiet affection.

In the kitchen, she’s always the one in charge making coffee, chopping vegetables with swift, precise movements. You stand by the counter, watching her with a soft smile, your taller frame leaning against the edge as you occasionally reach down to steal a kiss or gently help her reach something on the higher shelves.

At night, it’s when the real magic happens. After a long day, the two of you unwind with your routines. Melissa might be pacing around the house, restless, while you settle on the couch, curling up with a book or a movie. But the second she sits next to you, her head leans against your shoulder, and the energy between you both settles. Your hand, larger and warm, will rest on her thigh, a comforting gesture, and she’ll eventually soften into your side, her irritability fading into quiet affection. She might argue for a minute, pretending she’s not tired, but she can’t resist the calmness that you bring.

And when it’s time for bed, you always let her take the lead, even though she has to jump up to adjust the blankets on your side, while you just stand there, amused. She might snap at you to help her, but when you do, it’s her little laugh that makes your heart flutter. At the end of the day, Melissa, in all her fiery, feisty glory, always curls into you for warmth, her small body a perfect fit against yours. Your arms wrap around her like a protective barrier, and you kiss her forehead as she settles in, and despite all the differences, you both fall asleep in peace, knowing you’re exactly where you belong.

Monday was a complete chaos. The torrential rain slammed against the windows, the sound echoing through the house like an incessant drum. Lightning cut through the sky, followed by thunder, each louder than the last, shaking even the pictures on the wall. The electricity had flickered three times before finally going out completely, leaving the house submerged in darkness.

Melissa had been standing in the living room since the first blackout, pacing back and forth while holding a lantern that flickered more than it should have, dressed in a nightgown that ended above her knees and her favorite thick socks — the ones you thought were adorable, even though she said they were just practical. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, with a few loose red strands, and her mood was even stormier than the weather outside.

“I swear to God, if this damn power doesn’t come back in five minutes, I’m marching to the power company and kicking down their fucking door!” the redheaded woman cursed, shaking the lantern as if that would make any difference.

You, on the other hand, watched the scene, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed, a playful smile fighting not to laugh. There was something incredibly funny about seeing her so irritated, especially because you knew that, deep down, she was more nervous than angry. Storms always got to her, even though she’d never admit it.

“Honey, do you know where the candles are?” your girlfriend suddenly asked, turning to face you as if you were the source of all her problems.

“You were the one who put the candles away, mi amore,” you replied calmly.

“This doesn't help at all!” Melissa huffed, marching to the next room with firm steps.

While she rummaged through drawers and shelves, Sweet Cheeks, the guinea pig from her second-grade class, who was under the two of your care that week, started squeaking from the corner of the room for his cage. She immediately stopped, her green eyes softening as she crouched down to talk to him.

“Oh, my little baby, you don’t need to be scared, okay? Mama Mel’s here,” she coos, her raspy voice melting into a completely different tone — a babytalk that almost made you explode with love. “You’re so brave, aren’t you? My orange-furred precious angel!”

“Babe, you’re seriously babytalking the guinea pig while the power’s out?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“He’s afraid, big dumbass. Animals have feelings too!” Melissa replied indignantly, picking up Sweet Cheeks and holding him against her chest. “Unlike you, he doesn’t find this funny.”

Another thunderclap rumbled, and this time the guinea pig squealed loudly. The redhead pressed the little thing closer to her, kissing his furry head. “It’s okay, beautiful boy, Mamas’s got you. Don’t listen to your other Mom, she is just a party pooper.”

“Who’s got you, Lis?” you asked, chuckling softly.

She ignored you, putting Sweet Cheeks back in his cage before grabbing the flashlight again and marching toward the stairs. “I’m going to get the candles from the attic. If I’m not back in five minutes, call the fire department.”

Reluctantly and with protective instincts kicking in, you followed her, trying to hold back the bite on your lip to keep from teasing her as she climbed the stairs with determined steps. The attic was the kind of place no one wanted to go — dark, filled with forgotten boxes, and, worst of all, likely inhabited by spiders. Melissa carefully opened the door, shining the flashlight into the space.

“If I see a spider or a rat, I’m burning this house down like Mary Camille on Thanksgiving,” she declared, feeling more tense than before.

“I don’t think insurance covers that,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she stepped inside.

The attic was a claustrophobic maze of neglected storage. Dusty beams crisscrossed above, cobwebs clinging stubbornly to the wood and swaying slightly in the dim light. Piles of boxes, some collapsing under their own weight, were stacked precariously around the room. An old trunk sat in one corner, its hinges rusted, while an antique rocking chair leaned awkwardly to one side, as if abandoned mid-motion. The faint smell of mothballs and aged paper hung in the air.

The flashlight beam danced across faded holiday decorations peeking out of torn cardboard boxes, a tangle of extension cords coiled like snakes, and a moth fluttering near an old, broken lamp. The atmosphere was heavy, the kind of stillness that made you hyper-aware of every creak and rustle.

Your girlfriend’s shoulders visibly stiffened as her eyes darted around the space. “This place is like a horror movie waiting to happen.”

She started rummaging through the boxes, grumbling about “organization” and “who keeps candles in the attic anyway?” Then came another thunderclap, so loud it felt like it was right above the house. Melissa let out a small scream—a sound you knew she would try to deny later—and kicked an empty box in frustration.

“WHAT A CRAPPY NIGHT! WHAT A CRAPPY STORM! WHAT A CRAPPY ATTIC!” she yelled, flailing her arms like she was fighting with the universe itself. “Who even keeps candles in the attic, anyway?!”

You decided it was time to intervene. Before she could continue her outburst, you crossed the dark space and pulled her into a firm hug, wrapping your arms around her like a koala. The redhead began squirming, trying to break free.

“Let me go! I’m not a kid! I can handle this!” she protested, pushing at your arms with the strength of an angry little puppy.

“Of course you can,” you replied, completely unfazed, holding her even tighter. “But for now, you’re staying here with me until you calm down.”

Melissa kept grumbling for a few more seconds but soon stopped struggling. She rested her forehead against your chest, taking a deep breath. “I just hate all of this, okay? Storms… blackouts… they just make me nervous,” she admitted quietly, as if it were a secret.

“I know, love,” you nodded, running your fingers through her hair. “And you’re not alone. Besides, who’s going to protect Sweet Cheeks if you blow up the house?”

She let out a small laugh against your chest, even though she tried to hide it. “I hate you.”

“I love you too.” You kept holding her, feeling her small frame relax against you. After a few minutes, the scary Melissa Schemmenti went completely limp, the flashlight slipping from her hand and landing on the floor, its beam pointing at the ceiling.

“Red, you okay?” you asked softly, but when you looked down, you realized she didn’t respond because… she was asleep. The second grade teacher had simply passed out in your arms, like an exhausted child after a monumental tantrum.

“Of course,” you whispered, sighing quietly. “The big dangerous ol’ bear turned into a care bear.”

Carefully, you scooped her up into your arms and carried her back to the bedroom, trying not to trip on the stairs in the dark. Sweet Cheeks let out a small squeak from his cage as you passed the living room, almost like he was saying goodnight.

When you finally got Melissa into bed, she mumbled something incomprehensible and turned onto her side, burying her face into the pillow. You climbed in next to her, pulling the blanket over both of you.

The next morning, Melissa seemed strangely calm. She didn’t mention a single thing about the chaos from the night before neither the spiders, nor the attic, nor the little Sweet Cheeks, who was now squealing happily in his popsicle stick house crafted by your girlfriend as if he were grateful to have survived the storm. The morning light filtered through the slightly open curtains, bathing the room in a soft golden hue, but the peace was not enough to hide the constant motion that was happening inside that house.

The green-eyed woman, always practical, was already up, making coffee while you were still trying to muster the courage to get out of bed. The coffee maker hissed softly, and the familiar smell of fresh coffee mixed with the light aroma of bread toasting in the toaster. She walked through the living room with determined steps, holding a cup in her hand and checking the time on her wristwatch. Sweet Cheeks squealed again, and Melissa paused to smile at him, as if he were a coworker to be reassured before a big project.

“Litte fella is going to spend the week with one of my students starting today,” she said casually, adjusting her small hoop earrings as she looked at herself in the hallway mirror. “I think Destiny will like it if we choose her. Her mom said she’s been asking for a guinea pig since Christmas.”

You, still a bit sleepy, made your way to the hallway, your eyes half-closed as you watched her. She was standing there, facing the mirror, adjusting the collar of her seafoam green blazer that seemed to be her second skin. Her red hair, as always, was perfectly styled, and her red lipstick painted her lips like a signature. But there was something in that scene that made you sigh.

“Hun,” you started, leaning your shoulder against the wall while watching her. “Do you think, for one day, you could wear something other than those blazers?”

Melissa turned to you, raising an eyebrow, her face scrunched as if you had just suggested something completely absurd. “Why would I wear anything else? What’s wrong with my blazers?”

You bit your cheek, holding back a playful smile, before continuing. “Nothing... except that you’ve been wearing them practically every day for the last twelve months. Seriously, Lis, you and your blazers are practically one entity. Pretty soon, the people at work are going to start thinking you sleep in them.”

She huffed, but the small smile at the corner of her lips betrayed any indignation. “Oh, sure, because I should dress like I’m going to a fashion event and not to handle a classroom full of seven-year-olds and, occasionally, a squealing guinea pig in the classroom.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I’m not saying you should wear a ball gown,” you replied, moving closer to her and gently holding her shoulders. “Just something that shows you have other options in your wardrobe. Maybe even a cute sweater? Something that says ‘I’m Ms. Schemmenti, but I know how to relax.’”

Olive eyes were dramatically rolled but she didn’t step away from your touch. “You’re stupid.”

“I know. But you love me.”

“Unfortunately,” she joked, a playful glint in her eyes as she grabbed her purse and prepared to leave. Even though she would still wear the damn blazer that day, something in the exchange between you two seemed to soften the routine, as if it was a quiet reminder that, even in the midst of all the hustle, there was room for laughter and a little bit of lightness.

Arriving at Abbott Elementary, the contrast between the two of you was impossible to ignore. Melissa walked ahead of you with firm and confident steps, her bag slung over one shoulder, while you followed close behind, taller and with a more relaxed, almost lazy stride. The height difference between you always drew attention, and, as expected, the school staff didn’t miss the chance to comment when you both entered the building together.

Janine, who was carrying books for her class near the entrance, was the first to notice. “Good morning, friends! Whoa, how is it that you two manage to look even more opposite with each passing day?”

“It’s not about looking opposite,” Jacob chimed in, suddenly appearing with a pile of colorful poster boards. “It’s about synergy. It’s like… a visual metaphor for balance. Small and intense, tall and calm.”

Your girlfriend glared at her former roommate. “J, don’t start,” she warned, adjusting the strap of her bag and heading toward the teacher’s lounge.

Ava, sitting at the reception desk scrolling through her phone, looked up at the sound of the voice coming from the redheaded woman’s mouth. She gave a teasing smirk. “Well, look who’s here! Abbott’s finest. Hey, Stretch,” she joked, waving at you. “How do you not get lost with this little volume button walking next to you?”

Melissa let out a low grumble. “I don’t have time for this, Coleman.”

“No, but seriously, Schemmenti,” the principal continued, completely ignoring her warning tone. “Have you ever thought about carrying a portable step stool? You could stay at her level, like when you talk to your gremlins.”

“Good to know you’re so invested in the school’s academic standards, Ava,” your girlfriend replied sarcastically, pushing the lounge door open without looking back.

You, used to the jokes, just shrugged and headed toward the hallway where your classroom was located. Before going in, you spotted Gregory and O’Shon talking next to a cart full of gym equipment that the district send it a couple weeks ago. Gregory, as usual, had that serious, methodical air about him, while his new friend gestured enthusiastically about something that clearly wasn’t as important as he made it seem.

“Hey, Y/N!” O’Shon exclaimed when he saw you, breaking into a wide grin. “Tell me you’re finally coming to practice with us on Saturday.”

“Maybe,” you replied, tilting your head. “But only if you stop acting like a professional coach every time I miss a shot.”

Gregory let out a light laugh. “If you miss less, he won’t have a reason to act like a coach.”

“Oh, look who decided to be funny today,” you shot back, pointing at him.

“Seriously,” O’Shon cut in, clearly wanting to stay on topic. “You’re tall. You’ve got to use that to your advantage. Last game, we lost because no one could block the other team. If you were there, you’d be like a human wall.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it,” you replied, even though you knew you’d probably end up going—and that a certain redhead would have something to say about it when she found out.

“Think nothing, you’re coming,” the IT professional insisted.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The rest of the day had started off normally—well, as normal as a day at work could get. By mid-morning, Melissa was already knee-deep in chaos. Sweet Cheeks had escaped his container during a science activity, sending her classroom into a frenzy of shrieks and stomping feet. She managed to catch the little escapee with her usual grit, but her patience had been chipped away early.

The breaking point came during her prep period though. Melissa had gone to the supply closet to grab a new set of markers for her whiteboard and found, yet again, that someone (most likely Janine, your girlfriend muttered to herself) had taken the last box without replacing it. Or the school had ran out of them.

She stood there for a moment, gripping the empty box on the shelf. Her face turned red as frustration bubbled up to the surface. She marched into Ava’s office, the empty box clutched in her hand.

“Ava, can you explain to me why the school budget allows for your luxury coffee machine, but I can’t even get a fresh box of markers?”

The nonsense principal looked up from her phone, unfazed. “First of all, you’re welcome for that coffee machine. It’s what keeps this school afloat, honey. Second of all, markers? Really, Schemmenti? Just borrow some from Jacob or something.”

Melissa’s voice rose as she waved the box in the air. “I’m not borrowing from Hill. You’re supposed to replace the supplies you take. It’s not rocket science!”

“Whoa, calm down, Little Miss Volcano,” Ava said, smirking. “It’s just markers. Don’t have an aneurysm.”

That was it. The second grade teacher stormed out of her boss’s office, slamming the door so hard it rattled the hallway. On her way back to her classroom, she accidentally overheard a couple of other teachers gossiping about her.

“She’s such a hothead,” one of them whispered. “I don’t know how anyone puts up with her, especially her girl.”

“Yeah, can you imagine living with that kind of temper? I prefer death.”

Melissa froze mid-step, their words hitting her like a slap. She felt the sting of tears welling up and cursed under her breath. She stormed into her classroom, locking the door behind her. For once, the strong, fiery Melissa Schemmenti broke down.

You were passing by when you saw the closed door. Something about it didn’t sit right, so you knocked gently before opening it.

The green eyed woman was sitting at her desk, her hands covering her face, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Mel?” you prompted softly, shutting the door behind you.

She looked up, her tear-streaked face filled with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. “It’s nothing. Just… this stupid place sometimes…”

You crossed the room and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Talk to me, sweet girl. What happened?”

“People… they talk. They don’t get me. They think I’m just some… angry woman, yelling all the time. I hate that people think I’m hard to love. I’m just—”

“Stop,” you interrupted gently, your thumbs rubbing the backs of her hands. “You’re not hard to love. I love you. More than anything. And anyone who can’t see past your tough side doesn’t know you like I do.”

Her tears spilled over again as she pulled you into a tight hug. “You’re too good to me,” she murmured into your shoulder.

“Not possible,” you whispered back, holding her as long as she needed.

Meanwhile, at lunch, your crew had already caught wind of Melissa’s emotional moment.

“I just don’t get it,” Ava began, her tone dripping with mock confusion, her perfectly manicured nails drumming lightly on the table. “How is Little Miss Angry Bird out here pulling Tall, Calm, and Gorgeous? She’s, like, half her height!” She motioned dramatically as if the sheer concept defied physics.

Jacob, sitting nearby with his reheated vegan lasagna, looked up thoughtfully. He adjusted his tie and smiled nervously, always eager to offer an answer, even when he wasn’t sure of it. “Opposites attract, right?” he ventured, his voice lilting like a question.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Opposites? That’s not opposites. That’s a comedy sketch. You’d think Melissa would need a whole stepladder just to kiss her and she is taller than big foot Teagues.” Her laughter erupted, loud and unapologetic, and even him couldn’t suppress a small chuckle.

At the mention of her last name, Janine shot her head up, trying to defend her grade partner and herself. Not being successful of course. “I’m not that small and so is Mel. Didn’t hear you complain about Frank’s height when he was volunteering with Dee, Mac, Dennis and Charlie here.”

“Shut up. You are going to make me lose my genius thinking.”

From her seat near the window, Barbara Howard, the ever-serene matriarch of the school, closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if summoning patience from a higher power— the Lord himself. When she opened them, her tone was measured but warm, her words as steadfast as her faith. “Relationships aren’t about looking similar or acting the same. Sometimes, it’s about complementing each other. Filling in where the other might be lacking.”

The principal raised an arched brow, unimpressed. “Complementing?” she echoed, dripping with incredulity. “Schemmenti’s basically a firecracker, and she’s dating, what, a tranquil pond?” She shook her head and smirked. “Nah. Doesn’t add up.”

Behind them, the camera crew caught every word. A microphone dipped low over the wooden circular table, capturing the kindergarten teacher’s sage wisdom and the irresponsible boss’s antics alike. And then, as if they’d been cued, the crew began setting up one-on-one interviews to dive deeper into the subject everyone in Willard R. Abbott had been buzzing about: Melissa Schemmenti and you.

First, the camera zoomed in on Janine, who sat forward in her classroom chair, her signature energy bubbling over. She gestured wildly as she spoke, her enthusiasm making her slightly out of breath.

“Okay, so, yeah, at first, I was so surprised,” she admitted, high-pitched with excitement. “I mean, Melissa is all, like, grumpy and tough, and Y/N is, like, so calm and tall and just… really sweet! But the more I see them together, the more I get it.” She paused, clasping her hands together. “It’s kind of beautiful, you know? Like, Melissa’s this fire that keeps you warm, and Y/N is this big, sturdy tree providing shade on a hot day. Together, they’re… they’re like nature! Fire and earth!”

The interviewer asked her to elaborate. “Do you think their differences work well together?”

“Oh, definitely! Like, one time, Melissa got really mad about a substitute parking in her spot, and she was just going off, you know? But Y/N walked over, all calm, and just… put a hand on her shoulder. And she immediately stopped yelling. Like, stopped mid-punch. It was magic!”

Gregory sat stiffly in his chair, his hands folded neatly on the table, his tie perfectly straight. He cleared his throat before speaking, his expression serious as ever.

“Well, I, uh, don’t really involve myself in people’s personal lives,” he began, his tone measured. “But, uh, if I had to say something… I guess it’s kind of like gardening.”

The interviewer raised an eyebrow. “Gardening?”

Gregory nodded, suddenly finding his stride. “Yeah. Melissa’s like a tomato plant. Tough, scrappy, grows best when it’s got a strong stake to hold it up. And Y/N… well, Y/N is like the soil. Quiet, steady, full of nutrients. They balance each other out.” He paused, considering his words. “Yeah. That works, reminds me of me and Janine.”

The camera shifted to Ava, who had swapped her usual teacher’s lounge throne for a plush chair in her office. She leaned back, clearly relishing the spotlight.

“Listen, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” she began, throwing her hands in the air. “Melissa? And her? It’s like seeing a fuckin’ pit bull cuddling up to a giraffe. Like, are they cute? Sure. Do they make any sense? Absolutely not.”

The interviewer pressed her, asking if she thought the relationship worked despite the differences.

“Oh, it works,” Ava admitted begrudgingly, crossing her arms. “But not because it makes sense. It works because hot stuff has the patience of a saint. Like, you gotta be a special kind of chill to deal with Ms. Schemmenti every day. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Barb sat poised, her hands folded neatly in her lap, the epitome of grace. Her tone was warm and full of conviction as she spoke.

“Melissa and Y/N remind me of a well-conducted choir,” she began, her analogy surprising yet fitting. “Each voice is different, but when they come together, they create harmony. Melissa Ann has a strong, commanding presence—she’s the brass section, bold and unapologetic. And sweet Y/N is the strings, gentle and grounding. Together, they create something truly special.”

The interviewer smiled, clearly charmed by this wisdom. “So you think they bring out the best in each other?”

Barbara nodded, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Absolutely. Melissa has a fire, a drive that can sometimes be overwhelming, but Y/N doesn’t try to extinguish it. Instead, she nurtures it, gives it room to breathe. And my work wife, in turn, helps Y/N find her voice, to not be too reserved. It’s a beautiful balance.” She paused, her eyes softening with proud tears as she added, “Sometimes, the best partnerships are those where each person isn’t trying to change the other, but rather, they allow each other to grow.”

The shot shifted to Jacob, who seemed more nervous than usual in front of the lens. He adjusted his collar and cleared his throat, his tone quieter than the others.

“Okay, I have to say this,” he began, leaning forward like he was about to spill the juiciest tea. “I was Melissa’s roommate for a year after I broke up with my boyfriend Zach at the time. A whole year. And let me tell you, that woman is intense.” He emphasized the word with wide eyes and a small nod, as though reliving a war story.

The interviewer raised an intrigued eyebrow. “Intense how, Mr. C? Can you elaborate on it?”

“Well…” Jacob started, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “There was this one time—I’ll never forget it—she got mad at me because I accidentally left the door unlocked. It was a mistake! Anyway, she storms into the living room, looks me dead in the eye, and says, ‘Hill, I don’t live with idiots.’ And before I know it, she grabs me by the collar—grabs me by the collar!—and throws me out the front door. Like, I’m talking about the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air style, just like Jazz.”

They adjusted the zoom on his face. “What else ‘bout this day?”

The social studies teacher mimed being flung through the air, his arms flailing dramatically, and even let out a fake “Whooooooaaa!” for good measure. “I literally landed on the porch. The porch! She didn’t even break a sweat!”

The interviewer, struggling to keep a straight face, asked, “So… how does Y/N handle that side of her girlfriend?”

“Oh, it’s wild,” Jacob replied, shaking his head with a laugh. “I’ve seen Melissa go from full-on yelling like, the kind that makes your soul leave your body to totally calm the moment Y/N walks in. It’s like a magic trick. Three words, and boom, Mel Mel’s chill.”

“Final thoughts?”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as if to punctuate his point. “It’s honestly amazing. If my mother figure had been dating her back when we were roommates, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up on the porch with a brushed knee. Just saying.”

Lastly, the camera cut to Mr. Johnson, who was leaning casually against a mop handle in the janitor's closet, a knowing grin spreading across his face. He didn’t seem fazed by the camera in the slightest; in fact, he looked like he had been waiting for his moment to shine.

“Oh, you wanna know about Molly Ringwald and her skyscraper of a girlfriend, huh?” the custodian prompted, his tone deep and full of amusement. He leaned in a little closer to the camera, like he was about to spill a secret that no one else dared to.

“Exactly, Mr. J. You can start if you feel ready.”

“Lemme tell you somethin’,” he started, pointing a finger in the air. “One time, I walked outta my closet—this shoebox, right here—and I see Melissa, bold as ever, standin’ on her tiptoes, kissing her girl right there in the parking lot.” He leaned back, shaking his head with a chuckle. “And let me tell you, Schemmenti ain’t no ballerina. She was wobbling like a ladder missing a rung, but she still made it happen.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if to consider the scene again. “Y/N, though? Cool as a cucumber. Didn’t even flinch. Just bent down a little, like it was nothin’. It was like watchin’ a squirrel try to get at a bird feeder, determined, a little ridiculous, but, hey, it worked.”

The interviewer asked if he thought your relationship made sense.

Mr. Johnson shrugged, tapping the mop handle lightly against the floor. “Look, love don’t gotta make sense to me. I’m just the guy who cleans up after everyone. But what I know is, you don’t see Melissa on her tiptoes for just anybody. That’s love right there. Pure, uncut determination.”

“That tall, calm lady of hers? She keeps our fiery redhead grounded. And Melissa, well… she’s like the spark that keeps her girlfriend from fading into the background. They balance each other out, you know?” He nodded, as if he had just explained the mysteries of the universe. “Kind of a miracle if you think about it.”

The camera crew, sensing they had struck gold, lingered for a moment longer as Mr. Johnson put a hand on his bald head.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, gesturing to the mop, “I got a cafeteria to clean before Jacob spills lentils all over the place again.”

Back to the classroom, Melissa wiped the last of her tears with the sleeve of her blazer, her green eyes still glassy as she pulled you closer. You had maneuvered her out of the stiff chair and onto the worn-out beanbag in the corner of her classroom. She leaned against you, her head resting on your chest, while your arms wrapped tightly around her.

“You don’t have to keep being so strong all the time,” you murmured, your fingers gently combing through her auburn hair. “It’s okay to let people in, especially me. You’re my person, sweetheart. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Not easy,” you corrected her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But worth it.”

Your girlfriend lifted her head slightly, her lips curving into a soft smile. Her green eyes searched yours, vulnerable and full of emotion. “You know you’re my miracle, right?” she said quietly.

Your heart swelled at her words. “Melissa Ann…”

“No, let me say it,” she insisted, her hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “I was fine living my life the way I always did—thinking I didn’t need anyone, thinking I was better off alone. And then you came into my life, and suddenly, everything was brighter, softer. You’re my miracle. You’re what I didn’t know I needed.”

Her words were so heartfelt, so raw, that you couldn’t do anything but kiss her. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, but slow and filled with every ounce of love you had for her.

Unbeknownst to either of you, a small group of your colleagues was gathered outside the classroom door, their curiosity getting the better of them. Ava was leading the charge, of course, her phone held up to record whatever she could capture through the small glass window.

“I can’t believe they’re actually cuddling in there,” she gave a shit eating grin, trying to stifle a laugh. “This is like a Hallmark movie gone rogue.”

“Have a little respect,” Barbara hissed, though even she couldn’t hide the soft smile tugging at her lips.

Jacob, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, clasped his hands together. “This is so sweet. Look at them! It’s like watching true love in action.”

Janine wiped her eyes. “They came out of a fairy tale.”

Gregory stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed. “They’re going to notice us if you keep talking,” he warned, but no one was paying him any attention.

Inside, Melissa pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “I don’t care what anyone says about me. As long as I have you, I can handle anything.”

“You’ve always got me,” you promised, leaning in to kiss her again.

Just then, her ears perked up, and she narrowed her eyes at the door. “Hold on.”

The crew outside froze like deer caught in headlights as Melissa abruptly stood and strode to the door. She swung it open, revealing Ava, Jacob, Barbara, Janine and Gregory all huddled together, looking incredibly guilty.

“Jesus,” Melissa growled, crossing her arms. “Why am I not surprised?”

Ava straightened up, smirking unapologetically. “We were just checking to make sure our girl is in the right hands.”

The redhead blinked, caught off guard. “Your girl?”

Barb nodded, stepping forward with a gentle smile. “You deserve to be loved, dear. And from what we’ve seen, you’re with someone who does that perfectly.”

Jacob chimed in, practically glowing with excitement. “It’s true! She’s your perfect balance. Like I said earlier—yin and yang!”

Melissa’s stern expression softened, her eyes flicking to you before she looked back at the group. “Well… I guess it’s good to know I’m being monitored like a soap opera,” she complained, though the slight blush creeping up her cheeks gave her away.

“Anytime, Schemmenti,” Ava quipped, winking before turning to leave. “But for real, you’ve got yourself a keeper. Don’t mess it up.”

The group dispersed, leaving you and her standing in the doorway. She let out an exasperated sigh but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips as she turned to you.

“Well,” she said, leaning against the doorframe and giving you a look that was equal parts love and amusement, “looks like I’ve got their approval. Not that I needed it.”

You laughed, pulling her back into your arms. “It’s nice to know, though.”

She kissed you again, quick but tender. “Yeah, well… I already knew I was in the right hands.”

[grammarpedant]

Crashes in here, hi this is my main blog and I just saw the tags you left on my art of Miki and the CombatBot and I'm going just a little insane over them. I've been thinking of a fic from Miki's POV for Rogue Protocol for a while and while I don't think I have the skill to pull that off I am SO EXCITED to see that someone else has had the same thought!!! Urg... I just love Miki so so much and seeing how the events unfold from its POV would be so interesting.

I think I gotta go draw Miki some more now hehe. Good luck with writing!!

(the Miki art in question)

Hehe, right? Miki is SUCH a character full of so many hidden depths and surprises, greatest of all is that it's also exactly what it looks like on the surface, in full sincerity: a sweet, kind person of a bot that cared very deeply about its friends and wanted to be able to count Murderbot among them. It also deliberately obfuscates the truth from Murderbot and from Don Abene alike on multiple occasions, it seems to sense what MB means and feels through the feed almost better than MB itself, it's a science bot with visual magnification abilities beyond MB's, when it's stressed and pressed for time it stops trying to talk like a human and goes back to its native code language; Miki has in-jokes with its human friends, but I never had a friend like me. And that's just random stuff I pulled from skimming the book looking for something else! Miki is just such a fascinating character!!

And in this fandom we just LOVE our outsider POVs, haha. I'm sure others have done or tried to do Miki POV of the book before, but I'm gonna use this moment as an opportunity to gush about the thing I want to write- I left the tags that I did because what came to me first was the bit leading up to the same scene you've depicted, the tragic beauty of Miki choosing the trajectory that it did. I have a heartwrenching final scene of Miki's POV in those moments that I absolutely cannot show anyone, not least because the scene simply will not hit as hard as it could unless I actually lay the groundwork that would give it a real punch.

Miki would be about (is about) self-determination, right, obviously. But the Miki POV I want to write would also be about a character caught between connection and alienation, a bot among humans and all that entails. —People love and protect Miki, yes, but do they understand it? Don Abene loved it, and Miki loved her too, and what about all the times they struggled to understand each other? The work that it takes to overcome miscommunication? How does Miki feel, knowing that there are some experiences it just cannot share with its human friends, nor they with it? Do they understand each other regardless? Does anybody ever really understand another person? —Miki has a way of talking that's a little clipped and which may seem "childish" to a reader at first glance; given that in times of stress it defaults back to a nonverbal-to-humans mode of bot communication, might we draw parallels between it and the semiverbal disabled experience? —For perhaps the first time in its life Miki met someone who could understand it reflexively, instinctively, empathize with its machinic experiences almost effortlessly. How does it understand this person's refusal to accept the vulnerability of connection? Does Miki understand Murderbot, and if so how much? In what ways?

Those are the themes I'd want to pull at, and to do so I'd use the motifs of Miki's scientific research function. Its literal ability to perceive the world differently from both humans and from MB, its framing of the world through numbers and measurement and factoids and analysis that is nevertheless beautiful to it, even when it struggles to put that beauty to human words. Names. Identity. Choice and free will. Emotion and connection. What Miki was thinking when it looked at MB's camera at the nebula storm and said, Pretty! The jokes and media and little moments it shares with Don Abene. The love and happiness that made it so secure in itself. If I could just get through the groundwork of it all... it would be beautiful. At least as beautiful as the art you drew.

Anyway, I hope you keep drawing Miki, friend! The art you did has already inspired me a bit more 🥰

[the-crooked-library]

I haven't seen anyone else sharing my feeling about this yet, but Ellen screams autistic to me, the way she acts, thinks and feels is weird for her society, even the kind of "indigo kid" she is, or the fact that she is called a changeling. And considering the great amount of comorbidity with epilepsy, sexual trauma, anxiety with autism she feels very similar to my experiences

oh that is precisely the way I personally read her - and the interesting thing is, I think so does Harding!

During their big argument scene, Ellen tells him outright that she knows he doesn't like her and demands to know the reason; and he specifically expresses that he hates the way he can tell that she doesn't actually believe in the societal conventions that define their lives. She follows the rules, of course she does; but she doesn't mean it - and for someone as strongly rooted in convention as Harding, that is enough to engender a deep-seated dislike. By the time of their confrontation, he has been inconvenienced, stressed, had his wife bitten by rats and infected, and had his masculinity threatened (it's also very clear he can tell Ellen is queer and he is distinctly jealous of Anna's affection for her on several occasions; her being in bed with Anna is just the last straw). At this point, his distaste for Ellen is near-vitriolic; but her neurodivergence is still at the very core of it. He knows that she is masking, and he cannot stand it.

The thing is, I don't even hate Harding per se. I think he is an incredibly well-written, even sympathetic character; he cares intensely about his family, and, by and large, he has good intentions - but Nosferatu is a story of how even the best intentions become warped by prejudice and bigotry on their way to action, and he is the most prominent example of that.

Autism hadn't even been properly defined yet and he was already hating. Ellen, my queen, I don't care if you have a diagnosis or not - you deal with the same shit we do, so you're one of us ily