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#?? angst yes but the comedy!!

themillsdaughter · 1 month

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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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secretlythatsme · 3 months

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ALSO for your angst dpxdc consideration: danny would absolutely still be considered a meta. the term "meta" is used in a very vague, umbrella way where basically anyone who isn't a normal human is a meta. so even without the proper meta gene, danny would still be considered a meta by basically everyone (especially bruce). canonically speaking, danny isn't just a normal booooo kinda ghost - he also has some insane powers (like his ghost wail!) so he'd be considered a person with superpowers and therefore a meta.

so when you're writing dpxdc fics, please consider this! danny would be a meta in the dcu! kick that kid out of gotham!!!!

#im sorry i know tensions are high rn with the whole 'canon vs fanon' shit however #it does make me giggle a little whenever i see fics that are like 'danny isnt really a meta so he has nothing to worry about'#oh yes he does #i think a fic where danny himself thinks he's safe cause he's not a meta but Actually He's Wrong has great potential for angst And comedy #but any fic thats like 'oh bat.man wont consider him a meta once he learns danny is a ghost!'#nahnahnah im not letting y'all pull that actually #you havent considered the angst potential properly cmon guys #guys.. guys please.... guys if you learn more about dc you have more potential for angst guys guys are you liste-#ajdhgjlhdga #people should learn about the dc canon because fanon sucks!!! <broke #people should learn about the dc canon because it gives us more chances to wring danny like a towel <bespoke #aldhgl #dcxdp #dpxdc

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starcurtain · 4 months

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Silly DiluVen Fic I Want to Read

That feeling when Jean shows up at your bar with your two-inch-tall fairy archon in the palm of her hands because apparently he's sick??? (Mona, please scry, can cat scratch fever actually kill someone--)

And apparently the Knights of Favonius Headquarters is not an acceptable place for him to recuperate because Klee exists? ("Hmph, a fair point. Kaeya is there too." "Wowwww.")

So the only reasonable alternative is to keep him at the Dawn Winery??? (Is this actually reasonable? Diluc doesn't think so, but then again he also thought a four-year-long murder spree was reasonable, so he is, perhaps, not the best of judges.)

Or: Google doesn't exist in Teyvat anymore, so Diluc just spends a week searching for cures and experiencing exponentially-increasing stress levels, because archons aren't supposed to get sick, they're definitely not supposed to turn into handkerchiefs with delusions of grandeur, and it turns out that it is much, much harder to keep comatose fairies out of trouble than anyone could ever have imagined.

(Also known as: "What do you mean you LOST him--" + "Lisa, what do wind sprites even eat--" + "My archon cannot be this cute" + "Is that our god in your pocket or are you just happy to see me" + "Die" + "I assure you, this is a doll. I just like dolls now. Please stop asking questions." + "This is weird" [builds a pillow nest anyway] + Of course he gets the human body back on the one night I cradled him in my arms--)

#genshin impact #diluven #diluven fic ideas #I have no time #but I sure do have a mighty need to see Diluc cuddling wind sprite Venti #when he thinks no one will notice #just casually taking god to work in place of your vest handkerchief #nbd #is Diluc a capable archon babysitter?#no #is he somehow still more capable at it than everyone else in Mondstadt?#yes #(Actually Kaeya would have been the best but for some reason nobody asked him)#(so rude)#look is angst great #also yes #but comedy??#even better

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silver-grasp · 2 months

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Idk if it's just some sort of selection bias on my part but I feel like Mysterious Lotus Casebook fandom has a really high concentration of really good comedic fiction. Part of it is surely that a lot of what I've been reading lately is MLC fic but still. Anyway tipping my hat to MLC fic writers you are all so fucking funny.

#I think it's maybe because the show itself is largely a comedy #in between hitting you with AUGH OOF OUCH PAIN #so the fic balance tends to lean more into the chaos when it's not intentionally being painful #(yes there are also many notable angst fics thank youuuu. I have noticed.)#so it's like. two modes. slapstick and pain #sometimes at the same time tbh #mysterious lotus casebook

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psychicdisaster · 3 months

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There is nobody in this fucking fandom, so this is a cry that will not be heard, but I need someone to edit Su Moting to Francis Forever. Specifically the line "I don't need the world to see that I've been the best I can be. But I don't think I can stand to be where you don't see me" and it would be about her dynamic with Wang Xiaobao :/

#god if only i could edit #the first clip would be from the end of the first season #when she locks herself in her room after the different versions of herself show up #and she feels inadequate #and then the other scenes would be from her school days #when she competes with wang xiaobao #nobody talks about the fact that she went from an over performing child to a “lazy” adult #yes this is a comedy show #yes i will find the angst in it regardless #hanhua riji #god troubles me #su moting #wang xiaobao #coffeejelly.txt

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fullyamess · 7 months

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hey y'all did we know that Texas's shirt was snaps and not buttons because, um?¿?¿?¿

#wttt #wttt texas #i am giggling at the comedic potential #is there also sexiness potential? yes #but i'm here for comedy and angst so

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imakemywings · 1 year

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Honestly the humor of Tuor arriving in Gondolin and getting involved with Idril is insane. This poor dude arrives in a city of immortals who have now been living together in this walled city for centuries. NOBODY has petty beef with each other like Gondolindrim. They remember two centuries ago when you said their spinach puffs could use more salt and they’re still pissed. Turgon is just trying to keep this place from getting ravaged by Melkor and the Gondolindrim are going absolutely nuts in the committee for city decorating. And then you’ve got Idril and Maeglin’s whole “you’re my cousin and I want to love you” / “you’re my cousin and I want to bone you so bad please please can we fuck” spiel which most of the king’s council is just ignoring at this point but no one wants to explain it to Tuor he just has to figure out the royal council character lore on his own. The dude is drowning in backstory. You thought Bioware games were bad? Tuor is trying to download hundreds of years worth of Elf interpersonal history and so few of these fuckers has the grace to die and take their drama with them.

#tuor #idril #maeglin #the silmarillion #tolkien tag #coin's in the air on whether or not people broadly know why Idril and Maeglin are so testy with each other sometimes #yes yes there's a lot of gondolin angst #but between those episodes I think there's some Gondolin comedy

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padfootastic · 2 years

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here’s the thing.

prongsfoot can go two ways.

1. natural, uncomplicated, easy.

- always sleeping in the same bed; turning around one morning and kissing the other on the lips. no acknowledgement other than a lazy, satisfied smile. going about their day per usual only with added affection. no one even bats an eyelid (most already thought they were together, just with the collective conscience of a virginal victorian)

- don’t have to talk about the change in status bc does it really matter? they’ve been each other’s since the day they met. their hearts & souls are twined beyond belief. u can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

- slow and simple and steady. love that has existed for years and is strong, enduring. they know it too, because they know each other better than their own self.

BUT

also. consider.

2. oblivious pining idiots

- somewhere along the line, they developed feelings for each other. good? NO. because they’re ~brothers and ‘no way he likes me like that oh my god oh my god oh my god what do i do i didn’t prepare for this omg’ type panic.

- stolen glances and blushes and flustered stutters and just. generally being hot messes

- terrified that they’ll be found out, considered a creep, and then the best relationship they’ve ever had in their entire life will crumble and it’ll be their fault (more sirius than james tho)

- making a fool out of themselves in front of the other

- the entirety of hogwarts oscillating between exasperation and humor because fuck is it exhausting to watch these two idiots not realise how much they love each other but also watching these two cool dudes act like fkn losers is comedy gold yanno?

#sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #the first one is what my heart calls out for. it ticks off so many boxes #but oh my god tell me oblivious idiots and mutual pining and dumbasses to lovers arent god tier tropes #and these two will bubble about in different ways too bc of how fundamentally different they are #and there’s some angst potential there too yes #but mainly just comedy #there’s betting pools and drinking games and not so subtle hints dropped by literally everyone and all the cliches #like locking them in a cupboard or putting a mistletoe above them #(why tf is there mistletoe in april???)#but yeah. i can see it both ways and i love both of them and i can’t choose and this is where having a variety of hcs helps #bc u can just….go for both lol #pen’s notes

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some-pers0n · 2 months

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I don't know how people think angst is anything terribly difficult to write about. It's easy! Spend 20k words (give or take) having a character be either neutral or sad. Give them brief moments of happiness as a means of which to keep the audience rooting and giving a sense of hope. Then, hit the character over the head with a rusty shovel. Repeatedly. Also kill somebody they love in front of them. Then leave them bleeding in a ditch. They could die there, live on a bit and then die, or they go on with life as a husk of who they were. It's easy, vaguely cheap, and cathartic for the audience and author without too much effort

#Does it take skill to make actually hard-hitting angst?#Yes of course obviously #I don't doubt the talent or skill of people who are so incredibly good with angst #I simply think it's not that hard to make people feel sad over writing #Y'know compared to making them laugh with jokes and comedy and whatnot #sp-rambles

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achillesuwu · 2 years

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I'm just saying that just after 1789 (or 1889 for the angst?) Dream should have amnesia, be as happy as he was millennial ago and discover his power like the first time.

Basically gremlin Dream running everywhere with Hob trying to hard to not lose him

Also : dream doesn't know his own name so they are basically

Dream : so you are my friend?

Hob : yeah!

Dream : wonderful!! What is my name?

Hob : so– hum—

WHAT IF Constantine is trying to catch them and dream just basically yeet himself and Hob through the window (Hob does not want to talk about his scream thank you very much) and dream make. them. FLY. with his SAND (which Hob find fucking awesome because HE IS FLYING!?!)

Dream creating his first little nightmare 🥺🥺 it's a very small spider that can steal your face and make you eat your own hand, he explains, he find it so cute 🥺🥺🥺 ( Hob disagree, that shit if fucking terrifying) He calls it Flower 🥺🤧

(hob very much want his old wizard friend back, he was never young enough to deal with a young wizard thank you very much but what the fuck.)

What if they go see a play about orpheus and dream began to silently cry :(

He doesn’t know why but he says things like : he was taller, his hair was lighter, his smile was larger, his voice shofter

Everything about this play feel so wrong but he doesn't want to go :(

But also, if it's after 1889 and if Dream gradually get his memory back (like first love & first betrayal of Desir (idk I didn't read the comic but I think Desir played with Dream feeling at one point), his marriage and then the death of his son (where Calliope said it's his fault))

Like, Hob and dream are talking one morning and then Dream suddenly seems to light up, his mouth open in amazement and he says to hob "Nobody has loved me enough to seek me out before but, but I remember know, someone does, my friend" then he gets up and Hob is SO confuse. His friend talk about someone he is in love with he seems so happy, he says he needs to go, he needs to find her.

(Dream power are blocked here, he can't go back go the Dreaming before getting all of his memory back)

Then he suddenly stop, joy is remplaced by pur anger and madness. He stop speaking, stop trying to get out. He just walk inside and stay 3 days in his room.

When he finally come out of his room, he acts like nothing happen. Like centuries happened in 3 days and maybe it's the case for him.

Anyway, time pass, then one day his friend smile again softly and said "I'm married, we have a son". He looks so proud, so pleased. Hob is happy for him (but a part of him wonder, if you are married, then why didn't they find you yet?)

((((to answer a part of this question Jessamy is trying very hard but she can't sense her lord anymore D: ))))

Hob is proved right the next evening, he sees a flash of anger passing through his friend's eyes, he sees chock, he watch as his friend's hands began to tremble then he sees sorrow, so, so much sorrow.

Hob knows that one well. He doesn't need to ask, he knows

Tears floods from his friend's eyes, "He is dead, she left" is all he says.

When Hob try to take his hands Dream steps back "You said you are my friend, you said you like me, how can you when I bring nothing but doom?" but just like before memory seems to come back to him, like a wave, anger (barely hiding the sorrow under it) flash "I do not need you" and then he is gone

Hob is very sad at the moment :( he understand (now he has 100 reasons to make his stranger knows that they are friends 😤😤) but also he is worried about his friend (even if he is more mature than his "young wizard version", Hob knows how hard it can be). Meanwhile Dream goes hidding somewhere, he stays there and he get his memory back. However it's Death that makes him come out and getting back to his friend 😤

Just imagine 🥺 : Dream knocking on Hob's door, not looking at him in the eyes at first then when they do, he does his micro smile and "I apologise, my friend" Hob smiles at him with relief.

#dreamling #amnesia #1789 #1889 #Young dream is a gremlin #No Dream still didn't tell him his name even when he was only half amnesic because he knows there must be a reason ™ why #hob x morpheus #hob gadling #my beloved #He is so lost #Comedy #And angst #Did hob dragged young dream by the foot at one point? Yes he did no he doesn't want to talk about it #my shit

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mejomonster · 2 years

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Well, I wrote 9k words today! And with that I am bringing up that I finally put up my Weilan Guardian Post Canon Fix It Romantic Fluff fic where Shen Wei and Ye Zun reincarnate, Zhao Yunlan’s become an immortal, Shen Wei becomes a professor and colleague of Zhao Yunlan, and Ye Zun starts orchestrating increasingly desperate meet-cutes in an attempt to help his brother’s love life! Along the way, Da Qing thinks Ye Zun is trying to hurt Zhao Yunlan and interferes creating his own unintended meet-cutes, and accidentally dragging Ye Zun into the mystery that is Zhao Yunlan’s full identity and the twin’s connection to it.

Here is the link to the fic Next Life on ao3.

#weilan #guardian #writing #fanfiction #shen wei #zhao yunlan #ye zun #da qing #fanfic #ye zun x da qing #also an fyi this will be gratuitious meetcutes #and my usual dollop of angst and mystery and heartfelt intense cyclical romance #but mostly romantic comedy fluff! which is gonna be fun i think!#im taking meet-cute suggestions and romance trope suggestions because im gonna add AS MUCH AS I CAN to this bad boy!#also! please feel free to reblog! and to comment on ao3! idk if anyones gonna be interested in this but yeah #if i know someones reading i may be apt to write more often #i got a draft of notes tho so this does have a layout plan i'll be roughly following #so i can churn out another 10k probably easy ToT

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claracivry · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ted Lasso (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ted Lasso & Jamie Tartt Characters: Jamie Tartt, Ted Lasso, others mostly mentioned but even if they have a line or two not a lot, keeley sam and dani are there but little more than mentioned Additional Tags: Whump, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character, Hospitals, Hurt Jamie Tartt, Sick Jamie Tartt actually, Jamie Tartt Needs a Hug, Ted could probably also use one, just whump my dudes, some emotional angst in the beginning, but kinda throughout, helpful Ted, Jamie's dad is mentioned so, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity Summary:

Set early season two, just after Jamie rejoins the team.

He is not feeling well, but knows he's on thin ice, plays a match.

Everything get worse from there.

Featuring much Jamie angst, decent dad-coded Ted, and much whump :)

#my fics #whump #whump fic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt #hurt jamie tartt #yes I'm the problem is me #i will write my gratuitous whump with any boy that has angst apparently #even on a damn comedy show #anyways if you're a Ted Lasso fan and also a whumper #you might enjoy this

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dracomeir · 5 months

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Since I decided not to write the story of my fnf au Renegade Detective for personal reasons, I'm thinking of posting the prologue here, but I'm not sure yet. I don't want to just let it collect dust in my docs, and I do want to spout random bullshit about this au still, but I also don't want to post something dark just yet. My brain is still sparkling because of blorbos being silly right now, and I don't want to ruin that. (I also have to proofread/edit the prologue since it's been like a year since I touched the doc for this au, but that's whatever.)

#fnf #friday night funkin #fnf au #fnf renegade detective #yes I didn't look at the doc for that long #I have all main plot points planned and everything #but this is kinda too much angst even for me #I'd rather think of the comedy side that would give the reader a break from all that

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justanisabelakinnie · 11 months

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TFW you pretty much specialize in writing angst, torture, pain, and tear jerkers but then suddenly have to write a fluffy happy-go-lucky cute scene of characters hanging out: