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dontcallmecarrie · 2 months

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ye olde Stress(TM) Reaction strikes again, aka the start of this was sitting in my drafts for weeks because my brain hates me apparently:

“So...considering how last time went, why are we being dragged into this?” Steve Rogers heard Clint ask, and he tried not to freeze or blush, and, if Natasha was anything to go by, failed miserably at both.

“I mean,” Clint continued and it took far more willpower than it should have to not glare at the teammate who regularly ate whipped cream out of the can because he should not be sounding so amused, “after what happened, why are the Avengers being invited, again?”

Alright, that did it— but before Steve could do more than turn to give his teammate the same glare he normally reserved for when Loki destroyed the top part of his uniform again, Agent Coulson gave a very tired sigh and spoke.

“Partly because multiple ambassadors liked your response time when the pink elephants made an appearance on the premises, partly because von Doom specifically requested you all. By name.”

Across the table, Tony gave an incredulous scoff as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “And what, you’re letting a literal dictator call the shots?”

“Grumpy because he mentioned you too, aren’t you.” Clint smirked before Agent Coulson could say anything else, and Steve really, really tried not to scowl. Honest.

However, he couldn’t help but notice the way Tony’s expression went suspiciously blank, and something in the pit of his stomach clenched as Tony shifted in his seat a little.

“Okay, so maybe we weren’t finished before Loki interrupted. I didn’t hear any of you guys complaining.”

“That was you ‘gathering intel’?” Natasha asked, and Steve pointedly ignored her sidelong glance, “I thought you were looking pretty friendly there. Way more emotion than we’ve ever seen from von Doom before, anyway.”

Steve couldn’t help but snort. Understatement of the century, Steve hadn’t missed the venom in von Doom’s glare. If not for Loki barging in when he did, there would have been an international incident, and Steve wouldn’t have regretted it one bit.

“As... controversial as he is,” Agent Coulson rubbed his temples for a moment, “Latveria’s a very hot commodity right now, and State Department’s pushing for trade agreements. We can’t afford to alienate him.”

Everyone looked at him, and he fought to keep his shoulders from rising up. “If he’s got a problem with one of my team, don’t expect me to play nice.”

“My hero,” Tony rolled his eyes and so missed the way Clint’s shoulders shuddered, “Steve, I had it under control.”

“Nay, lord Stark.” Thor cut in, and Steve did not miss the way Agent Coulson’s eye twitched even as Clint got a very sudden and convenient coughing fit as the resident alien continued, “I am afraid you did not. I may not be familiar with Midgardian politics, but I do not believe duels are as acceptable here as they are back home.”

Everyone paused at that, and the silence was abrupt enough to startle Doctor Banner out of his reverie.

“Wait, what happened?” He asked, looking up from his tablet, and Steve couldn’t help but envy the fact that he was exempt from this. Sure, the risk of having the Hulk at a UN function would have been nothing less than a recipe for disaster, but at least Steve wouldn’t be suffering though this alone— case in point, this entire debrief.

“Oh, just how Tony almost caused an international incident last time.” Natasha said and Bruce made a strange face for a second before he peered over his glasses to look at everyone else around the table.

“Well, is Justin going to be at this next one?”

All eyes were now on Tony, who scowled and looked away even as he replied, “It’s one of the annual year-end fundraisers, of course he’s going to be there.”

Agent Coulson let out a slow breath. “You are certain you cannot convince him otherwise?”

Tony’s shoulders hunched almost imperceptibly. “It’s tradition at this point. Everyone knows I’m going to be there, so he’s going— and I’ll save us both the time, the man’s about as stubborn as I am.”

“You’re sure about that?” Clint asked, gaze suddenly sharp and the look he shared with Agent Coulson and Natasha abruptly reminded Steve of the exact circumstances in which Iron Man was born.

“The number things I’ve seen him accomplish out of sheer spite is...” Tony trailed off, before he shook his head and looked around the table. “It’s something. Pretty sure the only reason Hammer Industries didn’t come out with another element after I did is because it’d be breaking the laws of physics, and even then part of me was half-expecting otherwise.”

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#No Hero [And Not Made Of Stone]#3 am musings #My writing

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screamingsouls · 8 months

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What if people announced getting a divorce like people announce their babies gender

Like seriously, imagine inviting all your friends and loved ones for a surprise reveal and everyone fills out little cards with what they think the surprise will be (some people trying to figure out when you got pregnant because there are no obvious physical signs before giving up and making peace with the fact they aren't as observant as they thought)

There's cake and gift bags, with little pictures of you and your partner holding a lil sign with a date on it(people think it's the due date of a possible baby, when in fact it's the date your divorce will be finalized)

Towards the end of the party everyone gathers in the back yard where there is a large balloon just floating

There's one friend/family member who was clued into the plan, and they read off what people guessed the surprise is, then they start a count down as you and your partner are each given sharp objects (sword/toothpick, whatever floats your boat) to pop the balloon

Everyone's getting excited and yelling numbers and when you finally get to the end, you and your partner pop the balloon to loud cheers from the crowd, though the sound soon peters out as they stare in confusion and try to process what has just transpired

Instead of pink or blue confetti bursting out like there would be for a gender reveal, loads of mini newspaper articles with the headline:

(Insert first & last names) call it quits after (insert amount of years together). Seems like everyone is Divorcing, what could possibly be worse?'

Nestled inside the balloon is a sign that says: 'It's not a girl it's not a boy, it's a divorce!'

Now that the cat's out of the bag, you and your soon to be ex can get the gathered group of the house

#i feel like this would be the coolest thing #divorce #screamingsouls #relationships #gender reveal #getting a divorce #3 am musings #sleep deprived thoughts #can't sleep #surprise its a divorce #breaking up #break up

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alibonbonn · 5 months

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A @corviiids tweet that is very important to me 🙏 I'm always thinking about spawn Astarion how he loves the sun

#i am spending am unhealthy amount of time thinking about hcs of my durge and astarion going on cute adventures after the game #if you shitpost to my very particular niche vibe you are my muse i cant explain it #is hot spring running water? i think Astarion deserves to have a hot spring vacation #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #Astarion #alibonbonn #corviiids #alidraws

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mccoyquialisms · 1 month

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ITS PROM, INTREPID HEROES! ASK RAGH ABOUT WHAT HE SAW AT PROM! ASK ABOUT JACE AND PORTER AND ARIANWEN!! INTREPID HEROES!!!

#rattling the bars of my cage during this AP ahdjdkska #ally being like ‘it’s something small he did 3 years ago’ like god they’re so close THEYRE SO CLOSE #if I’m right about this I am going to be fucking INSUFFERABLE and that is a threat #I need to update my lore doc after these episodes #fantasy high #dimension 20 #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #dropout #my musings

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tinystepsforward · 2 months

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i see matt posted again

#i have Thoughts but i am at work and about to jump into a meeting so #maybe in 3 hours #tony muses #also. sorry to my little cluster of mutuals from Before All This when i reblogged cats mostly #i hope you're all doing well #and sorry to everyone who's like 'mate you never told us in all these years that the job you were bitching about was at The Tumblr Company'#but i think you can probably see why #tumblr meta

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 2 months

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i think i need a lobotomy

#weee single hued barn because i Couldnt Be Fucked!#also i Do love single hue things. it always looks tasty <3 #and its a fun little exercise in values! or something! am i making excuses! maybe!#anyway im back on my Putting Guys In Outfits bullshit #theres not enough barnaby art....#theres not enough Handsome barnaby art....#scribble garnish #welcome home puppet show #welcome home #barnaby b beagle #hes my everythinggggggg #cant wait to see him get Fucked Up 🕺 Fucked Up 💃 Fucked Up 🍻#every day i wake up and look at the teeny tiny barnaby in the teeny tiny heart shaped locket In My Mind #Also. an aside. a Thought i had while doodling.#a Genuine Curiosity musing.#i wonder what kinda drinks the neighbors would favor...#what would they order at a bar if they could go to one...#im soooo fucking curious guys im. I WANNA KNOW #what drink should i have put in barn's hand. hm. This Question Will Forever Haunt The Depths Of My Skull

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fairy-orchid · 2 months

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"So hold me this one last time" ✦ DPR Ian ✦ Seraph

@asiandramanet ✦ March Bingo ✦ Animation

#watch me shove woh into a drp ian 'seraph' sized hole lmao #wen kexing #zhou zishu #word of honor #wordofhonoredit #asiandramanet #asiandramasource #cdramaedit #cdrama #userxlh #uservivs #lextag #userfra #baek1nho #usergooseras #<3 #weiwuz #weiwuzedits #guys wen kexing is such a muse to me like how am I not meant to be thinking about editing him all day

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ride-a-dromedary · 7 months

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I think it's very based of Halsin to walk into Baldur's Gate, criticize the entire structure of civilization and its treatment of the less fortunate and the vulnerable, get *this* close to sending a racist back to the Oak Father, defend rats as a species, have a midlife crisis, and then decide he wants a baby.

#very based indeed #BG3 Musing #Halsin #Halsin Posting #this is obviously a cliff notes post #but like honestly people who say halsin is boring in act 3 aren't listening to him #he's a delight - my dude i am so sorry #he reminds me of that one quote from walk two moons #some of this is dependent on whether you take him along #me who takes him along always is blessed #he also flat out says the city stinks /negative and he is SO real for that

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butcharium · 1 month

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I just love women so much, and masculine women have a particularly special place in my heart <3

#i am sitting next to my gf at a bar and she is being stupid and straining her eyes to read by the candlelight in the dark room <3 #she is so cute and adorable <3 #butch4butch #butch #musings

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skrrtscree · 1 month

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the ghost of you 🤍🪻

#persona 3 #p3 #persona #junpei iori #chidori yoshino #jundori #persona 3 reload #persona 3 art #persona 3 fanart #persona fanart #rare occurence of me drawing something that isn't ryomina 😱😱#ive been feeling very angsty abt post p3 jundori. abt an amensia chidori acting different #abt junpei trying to deal with rebuilding a relationship with her but struggling to do so bc of how different she is #and not wanting to resurface bad memories but also mouring the chidori he lovedd #i thought abt this while listening to fob... hopd me tight or dont and i am my own muse is so themm #i really should draw chidori more so i cna get used to rendering long hairr

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dontcallmecarrie · 4 months

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On Echoes and Parallels

writer's block bites, but here, have some momentary introspection on birthdays .

Justin Hammer glared at the tiny box sitting on their desk, and the ridiculously shiny Rolex Daytona winked back.

Why on earth their father thought they’d like it, Justin had no idea— for one, they leaned more towards understated elegance and timeless styles. Steph had teased them more than once as a kid for dressing like an old man, but considering their family’s entire aesthetic was “different shades of old money”, they’d fit right in.

…but now they’d catch an earful for “being ungrateful” if they didn’t wear the watch that was the current bane of their existence, and that wasn’t even mentioning the whole ‘part of your late grandfather’s watch collection so show some respect, boy’ emotional snarl that was the true crux of the matter.

Because Justin could count on one hand how many memories they had of their grandfather, but the man, like all Hammers, had been a piece of work.

However, his untimely death before Justin had hit the double digits apparently wiped the slate clean. Of course, having an ironclad will probably helped, but it’d still taken the better part of a decade the man’s estate completely settled.

For as it turned out, all Hammers had their own vices, and while Justin’s father was skirtchasing, Humphrey Armitage Hammer’s had been collecting. Had he been any poorer, he probably would have been deemed a hoarder— but as it was, the Hammers probably could have turned over his storage units over to a museum or three without anyone batting an eye.

Or, well, mostly: Justin was 99% certain his art collection had stuff stolen by Nazis, considering how tight-lipped their parents got whenever the topic came up. His fountain pen collection was much more innocuous, but his coin, gun, and watch collections were probably worth more than the net worth of several countries put together.

Justin’s parents would had been more than happy to get rid of most it, but.

Apparently, that would make the family look bad, with people possibly going “look at how this man’s legacy is being squandered” and, of course, that would never stand. So, instead, now everything that had belonged to Grandfather went to storage, with the odd relic dusted off and flaunted. Such as, for instance, the shiny Rolex sitting on Justin’s desk.

They probably sounded spoiled, Justin knew; what other eighteen-year-old would complain about receiving their grandfather’s extremely expensive watch?

Except said grandfather had literally hundreds of watches just gathering dust in some storage facility, and it’d been Justin’s father who’d grabbed at random and shoved it at him with a gruff “congratulations, you’re a man now,” and called it a day.

Like they needed the extra headache after keeping the peace between their parents and Steph, especially today of all days. But if he didn’t show up to his own birthday party wearing it, Justin would catch hell from his father, and contend with his mother’s austere disapproval for the next decade.

Ugh. The only silver lining was that their attention span was next to nonexistent when it came to Justin, so so all he had to do was bear it today and conveniently ‘lose’ the watch afterwards— really, sometimes it paid off to be so estranged from parents who’d never quite forgiven him for not being a genius. With his luck, Justin could grab a fountain pen from storage, pretend his father had graciously picked it out, and nobody would either notice or care.

Which, predictably, is exactly what happened.

However, what no one could have predicted was what happened a couple of years later, when Tony Stark became an orphan one cold December night.

That Christmas had been rough, but also alerted Justin to the fact that his rival was going to be facing his first birthday without his parents. And sure, he had Jarvis looking out for him, and Obadiah Stane, Justin couldn’t quite help but feel that they should be doing something too— come on, it was for Tony’s eighteenth birthday.

So, after they headed home after that Christmas, Justin got to thinking. Their plans for Steph were currently at a delicate stage, so they’d need to be careful no matter what they decided on. Not to mention their extremely limited budget— their parents would never approve of anything they did to even potentially benefit their rival, after all.

Then they caught a glimpse of the tiny box sitting in the darkest corner of the room, and had an idea.

While the watch wasn’t their style, that level of flashiness perfectly matched Tony’s. Not to mention that a Rolex was a perfectly respectable brand, and considering the rumors of Tony being fast-tracked to CEO? It’d probably be nothing compared to the actual genius he brought to the table, but every little bit helped when it came to stockbrokers and shareholders.

“Thanks, Justin.” Tony said, smile bright and an strange amount of amusement on his face considering everything, until— “is there a reason it has ‘Hammer’ engraved on it?”

Justin froze. Then, once the words registered, they forewent any semblance of dignity in favor of a facepalm because really, they should have expected this. “That— I am so sorry, it was my grandfather’s. He had a habit of putting his name on everything.”

“Your grandfather?” Tony repeated, and now his voice sounded strange. Which, fair, it wasn’t like Justin ever brought him up beyond a vague, ‘may he rest in peace’ manner and having him come up now was probably not their brightest moment.

Justin tried to keep their shoulders from hunching defensively. “Yes, my grandfather. If you don’t like it, I can…”

They trailed off for a moment, because their first thought was to say, ‘I can get you another one,’ except, well, they couldn’t. Not when their parents controlled so much of Justin’s finances, and they’d never approve of such an expense as a gift for Tony Stark of all people.

“No, don’t, it’s great! The man had good taste.” Tony said, interrupting Justin’s thoughts and visibly brightening as he went on.

“I thought you’d like it.” Justin said, and they hadn’t meant to let their voice sound so soft but it was the truth.

…a truth that ended up going much further than they’d expected, as Tony took to wearing that watch everywhere.

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#schrodinger's canon #3 am musings #my writing

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whaliiwatching · 9 months

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the flower (reprise)

#spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #spider noir #hobie brown #noirpunk #to everyone who left me messages: i love you i love you i am hugging you so tight and/or giving you the crispest high fives #you made this possible <3 #... this fanfiction was made possible by viewers like you #i love them SO dearly. do you understand #mighty muse give me the strength to write this much again #i havent written 27k of my OWN GODDAMN ORIGINAL SHIT IN LIKE A YEAR #but nooooo these fuckers get all my best material #(i am having so much fun and they are consuming my world)

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themillsdaughter · 1 day

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a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else.

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years.

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fic #angst with a dab of humor (if you squint)#can anyone tell I am really into sarcasm as a form of comedy? ANYWAYS #themillsdaughter writes #‘hey shouldn’t you be trying to finish that wyp you started 3 years ago?’#yes yes i should but that’s not how the muse works apparently

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