schemmentisimpasours

[schemmentisimpasours]

Fuck did I change my schedule again? Yes... Yes I did. @writerspirit is clocking in for little sister duty to make sure I stay honest this time.

Schedule

Had to make myself a schedule cause otherwise I would spend 24/7 writing and get nothing else done. While I do love writing I still have school and derby and life craziness to take care of. 🥹 And I'm not trying to burn out like I did last time. Tbh most of the days off I have practice that consumes a large part of my writing time.

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Sunday: OFF

Monday: OFF

Tuesday: Finding Salvation

Wednesday: Monsters in My Head

Thursday: OFF

Friday: Monsters In My Head/ Simping for Schemmenti

Saturday: Random (Chessy, SVU, 911)

[schemmentisimpasours]

Hi Demi! If you aren't in the mood to write or respond to this, I totally get it, and you can ignore me. No hard feelings. Im just in my Olivia Benson feelings and can't stop thinking about her and I love how you write her.

I was wondering if you have any headcannons on a marriage proposal with Olivia? Would she be the one to propose or prefer to be proposed to? Do you think she would want some spontaneity to it, or would she talk it all out first to be sure it's what you both would want right then? Extravagent or simple? Just anything you think of, im dying to be her wife rn.

Headcanons: If I Ask- Will You Say Yes?

A/N: Now I feel like I need to do this for my other comfort characters, so expect this to become a series real quick. But also, nonnie- I will always write for Olivia Benson. She is my literal queen and wife. <3 Send any and all requests for her always. (Also, I didn't know how to organize this, so be prepared for my randomness. Did I edit? Also a no.)

Leading Up To It: Olivia and you discuss the idea of marriage for months. At first, it is the jokes that Olivia makes until you call her out for them. Thinking that you are angry, Olivia devolves into a full panic attack speech about how much she loves you and really does want to marry you. (In true Olivia way, she was just scared to admit her feelings). Olivia thinks that traditional proposals are bullshit, and being in a wlw relationship means there is no man to propose first. (Her competitiveness makes her want to do it first, of course) But she is absolutely in tears when you propose after her. Her anxiety really made her think that even after she proposed that you wouldn't ask her because you secretly didn't want to marry her.

The Actual Proposal: You know that Olivia is going to propose, but she refuses to tell you how and when. She teases you a couple of times, making you think that it is going to happen, but then she switches plans at the last minute to keep you on your toes. (You love and absolutely hate her for it.) The night it actually happens, Olivia plans an intricate date at your favorite restaurant with a horse-drawn carriage ride through Central Park. As the night comes to a close, she proposes at a small area in the park that Fin has helped set up for her. It is away from prying eyes because she knows that the thought of people watching this intimate moment would have you anxious. She does, however, make sure that there is a photographer to capture the moment that she lifts you into the air while you kiss her, your ring on full display, can be hung in the living room like her most prize posession.

The Outfits: (3 pictures above from right to left).

-The Proposal: Olivia feels most comfortable in a suit than in anything else. Plus, she knows that you go absolutely feral when it comes to her in a corset top. You spend the whole night staring at her in absolute awe that this is the woman you may one day marry. After you take pictures around Central Park... and more private pictures back at home in your shared apartment, Olivia feels like she is on top of the world.

-The Bridal Shower: Fin and Rollins host the bridal shower. Olivia goes for a softer, more feminine look with a dress. But it clings so tightly to all of her curves that you spend most of the evening drooling over her. She knows exactly what the dress is doing to you, and it has her thrumming with excitement. She parades you around the entire party, showing off her beautiful future wife. There is no question in anyone's mind about how much she truly loves you.

-The Actual Wedding: Olivia has always known one thing- she is getting married in a suit. When she finds a corset top that leaves little to the imagination, she knows she has found the one. She pairs the all black outfit with a pair of killer heels (that she absolutely ditches halfway through the night), but the pictures from the night are stunning. (Imagine her lifting you up like she did in the proposal, but with your dress flowing around you, catching in the breeze. Ah damn.)

The Planning: Olivia wants a small wedding. Something more intimate with your closet friends from the precinct. She doesn't have any family, but she does want your family to be involved as much as possible. (Only the ones you are closest to, cause who tf wants some random ass cousin at their wedding?). She does most of the planning, checking in with you at every stop, but you are more than content letting her do it. She gets excited as everything falls into place. She plans it to be in the fall and recruits Brooklyn SVU to catch any case, so the whole squad can be present.

The Actual Wedding: Olivia has Munch officiate the wedding, even letting him make a couple of jokes here and there while he does the ceremony. She walks down the aisle by herself first, but is quickly followed by Fin and Rollins. Fin is, of course, her best man, and Rollins is your maid of honor. It warms her heart how much of her family is there to watch her special day. Cabot, Novak, Warner, Cragen, Donnelly, (even Lagan... whattt...no regrets) are present to watch the happy day. When you walk down the aisle on the arm of your sister (sorry, I got daddy and mommy issues, so they ain't here), she immediately cries. She kisses you as soon as you get up to her, which everyone will joke about later. She writes her own vows, and you sob as she talks about how you saved her, have been the best thing that has ever happened to her, how she can't wait to plan a future with you. You dance with her late into the night, and she carries you into your apartment bridal style. You take her last name, and Olivia finally feels like her world is complete

NSFW: Olivia goes fucking feral seeing you in your engagement ring. It unlocks a pure obsession in her that she can't tame (not that she even wants to). She is constantly asking you during sex who you belong to (her, of course-was there even a question). She loves taking pictures of you showing off your ring (work appropriate and nsfw that she keeps in a locked file). She is constantly calling you Mrs. Benson because she knows you absolutely melt into her every time you say it. After the wedding, you stay locked away in the apartment for the whole weekend, barely allowing you to leave the bed because she is determined to claim you in every way she can.

Happily Ever After: Olivia and you plan a future together of moving a little further out of the city to have a big yard for kids and dogs. You get a doggie first (a little cute pitbull that you both love immediately). You struggle with getting pregnant, but when you finally do, Olivia is head over heels overprotective of you. She is constantly touching your belly and talking about the little human growing inside of you. You have a baby girl, and Olivia is immediately enthralled with her. She feels like her life is finally complete...until Noah comes along. You immediately take him in and raise him and your baby girl like twins.

[schemmentisimpasours]

I tell a lot of people I love them and I mean it with my whole fucking heart.

You tell a lot of people you love them..

That’s the point of living, dummy.

[schemmentisimpasours]

New chapter with more writing still happening. When will this series end? The world will ever know

The Paradox of Us Masterlist

Summary: Soulmates. Everyone has one. Or at least they hope they do but after years of looking Melissa has given up. She doesn't need a soulmate. Doesn't want one. Right?

Collab with: @janeyseymour (One of us was tipsy and one sleep deprived. Who was who? The world may never know).

Also, what happens when you mix a mostly angst writer with a mostly fluff writer? You will just have to wait and see.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (Incoming)

Chapter 8 (WIP)

[schemmentisimpasours]

This fic has been a labor of love and heartbreak. I have loved every single fucking second of it.

The Paradox of Us- Part 6

Collab with @schemmentisimpasours

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

Summary: Two certain people practically force their way into your house. Only one stays.

WC: ~3k

You drive home in utter silence, and you aren't exactly sure how you get there. The exhaustion is finally seeping in from the emotional day with the panic attack becoming the cherry on the top. There is a disconnect from your body, and your actions that you know should be concerning. Right now though, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You close the door behind you, locking it before dropping onto the couch. You bury yourself face first into the cushions. Part of you craves a drink, something to wash away the day, but eventually exhaustion grips you into sleep.

Melissa and Barbara start arguing as soon as the door of the school shuts behind you, and it hasn't stopped.

“I'm going after her Barb. I already let you stop me once. I'm not doing it again. I can't lose her,” Melissa snips, gathering her things in a rush.

“What do you suggest, Melissa? You can't seriously be thinking about chasing her all the way to her house,” Barbara retorts.

“Of course I am. She needs me,” Melissa says with a confidence she doesn't fully feel when she is reminded that she knows nothing about you outside of school. “Fuck. I don't even know where my soulmate lives.”

Her work wife smirks out of triumph. “I do.”

Melissa swivels around, and there is a familiar rage building under skin as she nearly shouts, “What?”

“She invited me over for dinner a few times to plan things. I already told you: she is basically my daughter,” Barbara shrugs, heading for the door. “So, I guess I’ll be going over to help her.”

“Like hell you will- not without me at least,” Melissa growls, yanking Barb’s keys from her hands.

The redhead doesn't see the smirk from her best friend as she turns away. Barbara never planned to leave Melissa behind. Come hell or high water, she was getting you to make amends with Melissa- getting you to stay at Abbott.

Yet as Barbara settles into step with Melissa, there is a waver in her voice, “What if she turns us away at the door?”

“We don’t give her the option,” Melissa huffs as if there was a world in which she would let you turn her away. “Now hurry! I need stuff for my ziti!”

You aren’t sure how much time passes until you open your eyes to a dark apartment. There is still a fuzziness to your movements and thoughts as you wake up- but what is most apparent is loud knocking on your door. You stumble off the couch flicking on the hall light. You don’t bother to look through the peephole. The sound of their voices filling the air is enough to tell you who it is.

“Melissa Schemmenti! You are not going to pick her locks. If she does not answer this door, we are leaving,” Barbara yells at her friend.

“The hell I am,” Melissa grumbles. “She ain’t okay Barb. She needs me…us. Fuck. she needs us.”

You pause your hand on the handle as a weird sensation floods you. No one has ever chosen you like this before- chased after you because they care so deeply about your wellbeing. You never had a mother who wants to make sure you are okay or a partner who chases you to make sure things are right. Now that it is happening, being chosen first, you aren't sure how to feel.

You push aside all these thoughts and fling open the door. “You two aren't very quiet.”

Barbara has the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry sweetheart.”

Melissa steps inside the door before you can even think about closing it. “You can’t run mi amore- not after all of that. So, I’m gonna to make my ziti and we are going to sit down and actually talk.”

You watch as Melissa storms into the kitchen like she owns the place. Flicking your eyes back to Barbara you ask, “Is she always like this?”

“I'm afraid so, but you get used to it,” Barbara says then looks you up and down. “Some Melissa cooking and a mom hug looks like it would fix you right about now.”

She pulls you in for a hug before you can protest- not that you would have- because honestly being wrapped in her arms does fix a small part of you.

“You do realize this is very helicopter mom of you,” You murmur.

“You’ll get used to that too,” Barbara smiles before kissing your forehead lightly. “Now go talk to your soulmate.”

You sigh but move towards the kitchen, watching the redhead open every single cupboard as she learns the layout. She catches you looking and smiles. That feeling low in the base of your spine starts all over again, but this time it’s harder to push away- or maybe you are just tired of pushing it.

“You’re in my kitchen.”

“Yes, makin’ you dinner… and some for my tag along babysitter,” Melissa responds, patting a spot on the counter, “Come sit, we can talk while I cook.”

You hop on the counter and watch her for a couple of moments. She moves with an ease you are sure not even the most experienced chefs can top. Every time she has to add a new ingredient or stir something, she looks up at you with a hesitant smile. Then when she has to pass by you, she presses a hand on your knee- like she is trying to convince herself that you are actually there.

“I don't know what to talk about Melissa,” You finally admit.

She comes to stand in front of you slotting between your open legs. Her hands rest gently on your thighs and the whole world slows again as green eyes connect with yours. “Talk about anything. I want to start over and do this right. I want to learn everything there is to know about you.”

You purse your lips in deep thought, and just as you’re about to say something, Barbara walks in.

“Oh, Melissa dear, it smells-“ She stops in her tracks when she sees the compromising position the two of you are in. “Oh my.”

“Barb, it ain’t what it looks like,” the redhead rolls her eyes, and now that you can at least somewhat stomach looking in her eyes, you notice the small golden flickers in her eyes. They’re… gorgeous. They add so much depth and insight into a world that you haven’t really known (or wanted to know) until now.

You stammer out a few syllables before, “It does smell real good.”

“Just wait ‘til you get a bite,” your soulmate winks. 

She almost wants to kiss your cheek- but she refrains. Melissa knows that while the two of you are indeed soulmates and she’s fallen for you over the course of the school year, there is still some tension between the two of you; you hadn’t fallen for her… not yet at least.

Barbara clearing her throat to cut the tension too, that doesn’t help.

Dinner is incredible. If this is how your soulmate cooks, you know you’re… you’re set for life.

“Thank you for dinner, Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher smiles that warm smile of hers. She glances to you. “You’re mighty lucky with this one. My Gerald couldn’t cook if his life depended on it.”

You crack a smile, laughing softly. A blush tints your cheeks.

Barbara stays for a little while longer, just long enough to ensure that you’re okay after your episode, and that you aren’t going to throw yourself into another panic attack.

As Barbara’s heading out, she pulls you into a hug. “I love you, baby. And if you ever need anything, you know you can call me,” she mumbles against your head.

“I- I’m going to miss workin’ with you next year, Barb,” you admit softly as you tighten your hold on her. 

“You don't have to leave, sweetheart.”  She whispers, and there is a crack in her voice when the next line comes out. “Please don't leave.”

“I-“ you don’t really know what else to say. “I already resigned.”

Melissa rolls her eyes. “Barb already told you Ava didn’t file your resignation yet. You really think she filed it by the time we left?”

You can’t bite back the little giggle that escapes your lips. You hate to admit that she’s right.

“And even if she did, I can guarantee she filed it wrong the first time. Call her tomorrow and say you changed your mind.”

Barbara is nodding along. “If I had to guess, she’s out at the hookah club right now not giving a damn about work anymore.”

“What if I haven’t changed my mind?” You ask barely above a whisper. Barbara doesn’t hear you but you can tell in the way Melissa’s eyes darken for a second that she does. 

Barbara spares one more glance at Melissa. “Are you sure that you don’t want a ride home?”

Melissa looks at you, and you surprise yourself when you say, “She can stay…we have stuff we need to talk about.”

There is a relieved look that washes over the redhead. Finally satisfied, her best friend exits out the door, leaving you and Melissa alone. 

“Thank you for letting me stay,” She whispers and for the first time you hear the insecurity hidden underneath all the layers.

“Melissa…” you go to say more but nothing comes out. 

You stand against the door, staring at her, unsure of what to do next. She looks more comfortable in your home than you do sometimes. Her docs are tossed randomly in with your perfectly lined shoes, her leather jacket hangs over the back of the couch, her bag is tipped on the side of your coffee table. Everywhere you look she is there, and a part of you really doesn’t mind it. Finally, your eye catches hers again as she leans against the wall- studying you. 

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you snip without thinking, and Melissa flinches. Those words are exactly what she had said to you the first day you met her in the Abbott library.

“I said a lot of really awful things to you,” she says, playing with a spinning ring on her thumb that you finally notice.

“Yeah, you really did. I want you to know that you don’t have to do this, Melissa,” you sigh and move around your living room picking up things to help calm your anxious nerves. 

“Do what hun’?” the redhead asks following your movements.

“Be with me,” you shrug, a self-deprecating tone to your voice. “You know just because we’re…you know. You can leave and be with someone…better.”

Melissa’s heart hurts, and she walks towards you- gently taking the book you had just picked up out of your hands. You refuse to meet her eye even when she's right in front of you. She extends a gentle hand towards you, raising your chin to force you to look at her. It isn’t a sharp or painful movement, only one of practiced caution, giving you room to escape if you need. When you don’t pull away, Melissa speaks.

“Mi amore, I want to get to know you. I want to learn about why you became a teacher, what your favorite thing to do on a Saturday night is, what you do to get ready for bed, who you become during the summer hours when school is out, and so much more. I want to learn everything- and learn to love you through it all.”

Her confidence builds as you continue to look at her. “I know I really messed up. I did a lot of things I am not proud of, but I ain’t giving up. If it takes me a lifetime to make it up to you, then I’ll do it. There is no one I’d rather be with. All I am asking for is a chance to prove it to you.”

You stay silent for a long time- so long that Melissa thinks she has lost you forever. 

Finally, with a small move backwards you respond, “One chance, Melissa. That’s all you get. I'm not doing this again- soulmate or not- I deserve better.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and for the first time, there is no waver in your voice. You’re confident in that decision that you’ve just made.

“You deserve the world and so much more,” Melissa agrees.

You only nod before sitting down on the couch. You gesture for Melissa to sit across from you. She gently sits against the cushions, desperate to calm her beating heart. It doesn't help that the turtle stuffed animal on the couch between you two is the one that she made. Melissa tries-and fails- to not beam like an idiot when you pull it close to your chest as a way to ground yourself. Folding one leg underneath of herself, Melissa turns to you, and you can't help but study her for a moment. There is a hardness to her at school where she has walls built to protect herself- but they are gone now. Her makeup is smudged from tears shed, her curls hang limp around her shoulders and yet still somehow frame her face beautifully, and there is a vulnerability to her face as she gives you the tiniest smile. For a second, you let yourself dream about what it would be like to fall for her- to let yourself be loved by her- but as quickly as the dream starts, you stop it.

“You wanted to talk,” you say, finally snapping out of your trance. “Start talking.”

Melissa doesn't miss a beat. “What do you mean you haven't changed your mind about leaving Abbott?”

“If this-” you say, gesturing between the red head and you, “-doesn't work, I'm not spending another year living in constant anxiety.”

“I..this..it,” Melissa stumbles over her words. “I want to make this work.”

“Why, though?” you ask. You’re genuinely curious. “I know I already asked you- but again.”

The redhead in front of you smiles softly. “Because... I’ve been wandering around the streets of Philly looking for my soulmate for longer than I care to admit. And I really didn’t think I would find my soulmate, much less find my soulmate at the place I work. I had flirted with a couple of women, even dated a few women once homosexual relationships were more normalized and accepted. But then I gave up, and I settled. And then? You walked in. And I swear, Y/N- it was like the whole world stopped. It didn’t matter where I was, or what I was doing, all of my attention went to you. Nothing else mattered when I looked at you. That... it scared me; because why did you have that effect on me? I was already in a steady relationship, with a man who loved me, and it scared me that even in that one single moment I was ready to give it all up for you. Then you got so close to Barb so quickly, and I got rattled. She’s the only one I got y’know. So, I distanced myself- I distance myself from most people, if I’m being completely honest with you. I expected you t’leave Abbott, just like everyone else. Hoped you would, because then I wouldn’t have to distance myself; convince myself that I hated you.”

Melissa blows out a breath, “Like I said, I never did. I never hated you. I spent more time watching you this year than I’d care to admit: when you would walk through the halls with your kids or when I would pass by your room and hear you with your students. I spent more time standing in Barb’s room this year than I ever have before, just to watch how much your students loved you. And, from afar, I fell in love.” 

“I’d get distracted by your perfume before you made your way into the staff room with that easy smile on your face. And then you would turn to me and scowl. But I figured that at least if you hated me, I still got your attention too- I craved it. The last few weeks of you not even looking in my direction have been killing me.”

You raise your brows. Clearly, she knows more about you than you thought. She’s been watching you for the entirety of the school year.

“I- I didn’t know,” you say softly, a ghost of a smile on your lips.

Melissa wants to acknowledge what you just said, but she has to say this first. “I have fallen... so deeply and ridiculously in love with you. And I know that you don’t feel the same, but if I could fall in love with you from afar... just think about how our lives could be if we stopped fighting it and tried- together?”

“I have to be dreaming,” You whisper, clinging to the turtle, “This isn’t real.”

Melissa scoots closer to you till her legs are pressed against yours. She lays a gentle hand on your thigh, “This isn’t a dream, mi amore.”

“You love me?” You squeak out, sure that your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“Yes hun, I am so in love with you.”

You lay your hand on top of hers, “I’m scared, Mel.”

Melissa moves her hand to curl her fingers through yours. “That’s alright- as long as we can be scared together.”

You don’t really know what possesses you to do this, but you lick your lips as your eyes linger on the full lips that she has.

Those green eyes flicker down to your own lips. She gives you a look, one of longing while still asking permission.

And when you give her just the slightest head nod, she kisses you.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @eliscannotdance @m6niacs @fragile-angell @infernumlilith @milfjuulpod  @alwaysgoodnight @jeridandridge @r0se16 @yoyo-w

[schemmentisimpasours]

A Road Divided Masterlist

Summary: When given a choice, there are two roads that can be taken. The repercussions of that choice can create a lifetime of pain-or a lifetime of happiness. It just depends on which side of the road you stand on. Melissa takes the path that is easy...safe... the one eating her alive.

A/N: When I tell you this is going to fucking hurt I mean it. I warned you-so don't kill me for it later.

Chapter 1

[schemmentisimpasours]

Finding Salvation- Chapter 5- Finding A Way To Open Up

Summary: Olivia has made a dire mistake (and it isn't cutting her hair) it is letting you go when she knows that in the end... all she wants is you.

Warnings: Alludes to sexual interaction. So small you will miss it. Small mention of S2ep2

A/N: I didn't edit shit

Previous Chapter- Next Chapter

Masterlist

2.2k

Weeks go by of you and Olivia just being friends. There are hours of text messages and calls exchanged during this time. She spends numerous hours over at your apartment after work but never spends the night. You begin to notice she never lets you see her apartment. You hoped that the feelings you had for her would lessen over time but they don't. They continue to grow and spread the more you learn about her.  How her favorite color is purple- a dark purple- that she always wants to wear at work but feels intimidated by. How she is working on eating better and needs small little reminders throughout the day. How she prefers red wine but rarely gets drunk because the migraines are a killer. 

 She learns more about you too. How you hate mornings- the only way to wake you up before 8am is if she calls you- which has saved you from being late to multiple court hearings. How you don't drink coffee because it gives you untameable anxiety. How your favorite color is red-burgundy specifically- because its dark rich tones. Olivia knows within a week she has made an epic mistake. She doesn't want to be just friends with you; she wants lazy mornings wrapped in your arms, kisses shared before bed, and laughter at horrible movies with your legs strewn across her lap. 

She knows what she wants, but she doesn’t know how to let herself have it. 

~-~

You stare in the mirror, pondering your outfit for the hundredth time. It was more masculine than you were used t,o but you were trying out new things- black boots, loose black jeans, a tight white tank top, and a black button-up left open. Your hair is in curls around your shoulders, but you constantly fidget with the strands, moving your part from one side to another. It had been so long since you had been on a date, you weren’t sure exactly what to do with the thirty minutes that you had till she showed up. 

You don’t have much time to mull over it before your phone rings. You know who it is even before you hold the phone to your ear.

“Liv, what do I owe the pleasure of your phone call at 6 pm on a Saturday?”

“I had off work today, so I may have gone and made some impulse decisions,” She hummed over the line. “I'm at your apartment so you can see.”

You huff out a laugh, “You know I gave you my number so you could give me a call before you show up at my apartment.”

“I did call you before. I technically just made it to your door,” Olivia comments as you roll your eyes.

You go to say something as you open the door, but you are caught off guard when you see her hair. It’s cut short, and the burgundy is gone. You tilt your head, looking at her intently.

“Was this a mental breakdown haircut? Should I be concerned?”

Olivia pauses in the doorway, taking you in, and for a minute, she forgets how to breathe. She just stares at the way the button-up falls off your shoulder, exposing your collarbones. Olivia’s eyes trail down to the necklace that hangs between your breasts- a gold anchor - and she gulps- imagining wrapping her fingers around the chain to pull you into a kiss.

“I…uh…wanted to try something new,” Olivia finally stutters. “You look fucking handsome.”

You blush at the words, “Thanks Liv, but you… you need to learn how to style this haircut.”

You pull her into the bathroom with your hair products spread all across the counter. Olivia stares at you the entire time as you move and gel her hair into place. 

You step back, looking at your work with a smile, “Now this I can deal with.”

Olivia cocks an eyebrow at you, “You don't like it?”

“It will grow,” You say with a wink when there is a knock on the door.

“Expecting someone?” Olivia asks with her heart already dropping.

“My date,” You say without looking her in the eye.

Olivia’s plans to tell you about her feelings fall away as she wraps her arms around her stomach, “You didn’t tell me.”

You turn around to look at her, a small fire building in your eyes, “I didn't realize I had to give you a play-by-play of my romantic life Mom.”

“You don't,” Olivia throws her hands up in mock surrender, “Can I just raid your fridge before I leave…heavy work week.”

You nod used to Olivia coming to bum food out of your fridge when work became so intense she barely had time to sleep. You open the door to a tall blonde with a tight red dress. Liv watches the way her eyes comb over you- like she is sizing up her next meal- and her stomach twists with rage. Her hands curl into a fist that she shoves into her pocket.

“You didn't tell me you had a roommate,” The blonde says with a bite that makes Olivia see red.

“Amber, this is my friend Olivia. Olivia, this is my date, Amber,” you reply cautiously. “Olivia is just stealing food from my fridge, but we are good to go.”

“Then let’s go, sugar,” Amber smirks, grabbing your hand, and Olivia forces herself not to gag at the words. 

You wave at Olivia before shutting the door behind you. You don’t worry about Olivia locking the door when she leaves. She always has, but Olivia has a different idea today- she isn’t going to leave. 

She knows she should, but she can’t when the jealousy still simmers at the bottom of her stomach. There is guilt there, too- she should have never asked just to be friends- and now she may have lost her chance forever. Olivia pushes these feelings aside and busies herself moving around your apartment. She digs in your fridge, grabbing food to make her dinner. Then, once she eats, she feels like she has to do all the dishes in the sink, and it spirals into cleaning your kitchen. This goes on and on until your whole apartment is clean by the time that Olivia collapses on the couch. It doesn’t make Olivia feel better, but it helps dull her anger a little bit. 

By this time, a couple of hours have passed, and it has started to get dark. Olivia should probably go home, but now there is a fear in the back of her head that something awful has happened to you. It is the uglier part of her job that she can’t seem to shake, no matter how hard she tries. So she stays, grabbing a blanket to curl around her as she turns on the TV.

-~-

You open the door of your apartment with a sigh before throwing down your keys on the counter. That is when your eye finally caught Olivia on the couch, and you jump.

“Holy shit! Liv, what the hell are you still doing here?” 

Olivia tries to play it off, “I uh laid down for a minute to get some sleep before going home, and then all of a sudden you are home. Did you have a good time?”

You look around at your clean apartment and raise a skeptical eye at Olivia, “You decided to nap after cleaning my whole apartment.”

A blush crossed Olivia’s cheeks. “I am a good friend?”

You roll your eyes, plopping down on the opposite side of the couch, “Liv, if you were having a bad day at work, then you should have just asked me to stay. I would have.”

Olivia lets herself fall into the lie, denying the reason she stayed, “I didn’t want to ruin the chance of you finding true love or something.”

You miss the sigh in Olivia’s voice as you snap back to the last thirty minutes of your date. You were in the back of Amber’s car with her head between your legs when it slipped out.

“Fuck Liv, don’t stop,” you moaned, lost in your daydream.

Amber stops completely, “You just called me that bitches name, didn’t you?”

“Amber…shit, I am so sorry.”

The blonde leans back on her heels, “Do you love her?”

You don’t answer, only stare at the other woman with a panicked look in your eyes. She throws her pants back at you. “Olivia is only going to break your heart, you know that, right?”

You had left her without an answer, solidifying the fact that you were never going on another date with her. You glance back at Olivia, pulling the blanket partially off her to wrap yourself in. “That was nothing close to love.”

“Well…maybe next time,” Olivia replies, but you only shrug. She can tell that you are upset so she throws the remote in your lap, “Choose a movie to watch ya dork.”

~-~

The movie is almost over when you look at Olivia, “Do you want to talk about work?”

“It is a lot…are you sure that you want to hear about it?” She asks with a hint of hesitation.

“Of course, you know I'll always listen to anything you say,” You reassure her.

Olivia still had not shared any of the truly dark stuff about her job, even on the worst days, she shoves it down just like her partner, Elliot. You had been patient with her, never pushing, but she could tell it was eating you alive to not ask any questions. You always wanted to be there to comfort Olivia, and she admitted that if she really wanted to date you, she was going to have to open up.

Her hand reaches out for yours, and you let her fingers circle yours. For a moment, you swear your heart is going to beat out of your chest, but it settles when Olivia brushes her thumb over the back of your hand. Olivia has always walked that fine line of affection when it came to your friendship- long hugs when she was leaving, a gentle brush of hair behind your ear, sitting close to you on the couch- but she had never let herself hold your hand again. It felt too personal… too close to letting you know the truth of her feelings- but right now she needed to ground herself. 

“A father killed his wife today,” Olivia starts, her hand tightening around yours. “All because she decided to defend her daughter…who was murdered by her son. It was horrible how easily a family can turn against each other.”

She pauses, expecting you to flinch at her words, but you only solemnly nod, “Families are supposed to be the ones that love us from the moment we open are eyes, but it doesn’t always happen that way, sadly.”

Olivia’s heart breaks at this, for it is a feeling that she knows all too well. “My mom has been getting back into drinking. She always drank when I was in school, so much so that a lot of the time she would be gone for days, but it hasn’t been this bad in years. She never wanted me to be a cop, especially not a sex crimes cop.”

Olivia chokes on her words, “I don’t…I can’t do anything else.”

You brush away a stray tear that falls down Olivia’s face, “The job you do is important Liv. I know it can be hard sometimes, but the fact that you get up and do it anyway… that is amazing. It doesn’t matter what your mom thinks; it is about what makes you feel whole at the end of the day.”

“I guess, not every day, but most days I feel like I am making a big difference in the world. That I am doing something that matters… that I matter,” Olivia mumbles, finally admitting the truth. All she has ever wanted in the world is to matter.

“You do matter Liv,” You reassure her, leaning over to cup her cheek gently. “You matter more than you will ever know.”

Olivia wants to kiss you, knowing it would be so easy just to push you back against the couch and let you wash away all these bad thoughts. She barely contains herself as you lean back away, stifling a huge yawn.

“You tired?” She asks, trying to push the thoughts further from her brain. 

“When am I not tired is the better question,” You reply with a shrug.

“I…um…can I stay?” Olivia asks shyly. “I don’t think I can be alone tonight.”

“Of course,” You smile. “Let me get you some clothes.”

It is all so domestic, as if you have done this a hundred times before. Olivia doesn’t even hesitate to press her shoulders into yours as you lie down in bed. You pull out a book, just as you do every night, to read, and Olivia places her head on your shoulder to read alongside you. She feels you stiffen for a moment before you place your head on top of hers. Finally, when your eyes begin to close, she gently pulls the book from your hands, placing it on the nightstand. You don’t fight her, only whimper slightly before gently grabbing onto her shirt. 

When she is sure you have fallen asleep, she whispers, “I’m falling for you.”

-

Taglist

@cupldscntrl // @writerspirit // @milfslvr // @marvel210 // @impossiblewolf // @janeyseymour

[schemmentisimpasours]

Chapter 5 was my own personal meltdown. So please by nice I am.. sensitive. Also, I refuse to apologize for it- I love angst and I needed my own therapy session

The Paradox of Us Masterlist

Summary: Soulmates. Everyone has one. Or at least they hope they do but after years of looking Melissa has given up. She doesn't need a soulmate. Doesn't want one. Right?

Collab with: @janeyseymour (One of us was tipsy and one sleep deprived. Who was who? The world may never know).

Also, what happens when you mix a mostly angst writer with a mostly fluff writer? You will just have to wait and see.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 (Incoming)

Chapter 7 (WIP)

[schemmentisimpasours]

thank you @janeyseymour for letting me have my own personal mental breakdown in this chapter. It was needed and I apologize for nothing. Angst is my bread and butter.

The Paradox of Us- part 5

Collab with @schemmentisimpasours

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

Summary: you hit your breaking point, and finally allow Melissa to confront you.

WC: ~4.2k

Melissa finally catches your attention on the last day of school when you’re spending your final moments in your classroom. The posters are off the walls, all of the stuffed animals have been rehomed with your students, and not a single fairy light is left hanging on the ceiling. An overwhelming sense of emptiness fills you while you look around- just like the rest of your life. You’re leaving a place you love with people that you had come to care about. Once again you are ripping up roots that you thought could be permanent. 

As you sit on the edge of your desk, you wonder if what you’re doing is right. Your students had left your kindergarten classroom with tears in their eyes, hugging you and telling you that they’d miss you over the break and couldn’t wait to see you next year. You, knowing you shouldn’t say anything to them about your absence, had put on a brave smile, embraced them tightly, and promised them that you would be delighted to hear how their summers went; that if their parents wanted to email you throughout the summer with pictures, you would be more than happy. You know that your email will be deactivated soon- probably by the end of June. You were breaking a promise, and intentionally breaking a promise to children. How... how could you do that? 

You’re mulling over this thought when the sound of the door closing catches your attention. You jump slightly and look to find the redhead staring at you with a sad look in her eye. How long she’s been there, you don’t know, but you hop off your desk to get away from her. 

“What do you want, Ms. Schemmenti?” you ask curtly, eyes never meeting hers. Instead, you busy yourself with packing up various pens and pencils on your desk, making sure that every trace of you was erased from this room. It’s best if you don’t leave a trail- just slip away into the world like you always have.

“Can we talk? I have been tryin’ to hunt you down for days, ki…Y/N,” she explains taking a small step towards you.

You take a bigger step back and the movement physically pains Melissa. You clutch your bag close, “I have nothing to say to you. I will walk out that door and never bother you again.”

“Please, don’t leave just yet,” Melissa’s voice cracks just a little, “I want to apologize. I’ve been trying to apologize for a couple of weeks now.”

“For what exactly?” you retort, the anger building rapidly in your chest. You still don’t look into her eyes. You know that, for as much anger as you’ve harbored over this year, you’ll lose every ounce of fire if you so much as look at what you can assume is a heartbroken face- you had heard that crack in her voice. 

“For the fact that you physically assaulted me and dug your nails into my skin so tightly I had bruises?” you continue. “I should’ve filed a report right then and there, but I told Ava not to bother. Or is it for the snide comments at lunch every day? How about how you criticize my personal notes on a daily basis? Is it for the time you told me I couldn't read because I admitted I have dyslexia, even though you also have it? Maybe, could it be how you constantly minimize and disregard my teaching style?”

Each question makes Melissa flinch. She had done all of those things and more. She goes to speak, but you stop her with a sarcastic laugh.

“My favorite thing of all though? It’s the way you hated me from the moment I stepped foot in the building, and you made it your personal mission to make sure I would never forget the way that I am a failure and will always be just short of good enough,” your voice shakes now, and your eyes surge with the angry tears you force back. “Which aspect of my personal hell would you like to relive? Please enlighten me.”

Melissa wishes she could name every feeling that burns through her as you speak: shame, guilt, self-loathing, anxiety, mortification, helplessness, regret, disgust- the list could go on forever if she let it. Her hand curls into a fist, her nails cutting into her palm but the pain is only a fraction of what she has caused you. She wants to speak, wants to apologize for everything you’ve just listed and more, but there is a stone lodged in her throat and a pit in her stomach that seems to consume her. The silence trickles into minutes, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration. The movement causes another glimpse of your soulmate tattoo- Melissa’s soulmate tattoo- and it breaks her trance.

“I'm sorry, I should have never done those things to you. You didn't deserve any of it,” Melissa explains, her voice unsteady. “I was a complete and utter asshole to you.”

“That’s putting it lightly, Melissa. So yeah, forgive me if your pathetic excuses of apologies with post-it's, copies, and coffee isn’t enough for me to forgive you,” you sigh, and the redhead's heart flutters for just a moment. It’s been so long since she heard her name on your lips. The moment lasts for only a second as another knife plunges deep in Melissa’s gut at your next words.

“I have been told my whole life I am not good enough, that I'm always less than in some ways, and too much in others,” you start, and when the dam opens you can't stop what happens next. 

“For as long as I can remember, my mother has always told me I'm nothing. You know how cruel that is? To have the one person who is supposed to love you from the moment your eyes open- to tell you that you mean… nothing. Then, I went to school and for years I was told I was smart…but not smart enough. Always just on the wrong side of any awards or scholarships; that even though I had dyslexia and did every damned thing I could to keep up- excel even- it still wasn’t enough.”

That one hurts Melissa on a more personal level. She understands that more than she’s willing to admit.

“On top of academics, every day I was picked on and bullied for never being pretty enough or popular enough. Was always called dumb- and somehow also a nerd. Then, in high school a girl tricked me into being her friend -had me falling in love with her- just so she could turn around and tell the whole school I was gay. You know what happens to gay kids in small town conservative high schools? You don’t, because you grew up in a liberal area, and dated men. So, let me enlighten you.”

You take a deep breath, as you prepare yourself to relive some of the worst days of your life. “They are beaten, ridiculed, and mentally tortured. I thought college would be different, but instead I fell for the wrong girl. Who made me feel even smaller- picked away at me until I was nothing- who made sure I knew I was never going to find love. Then, it just kept happening; a cycle over and over again of me putting myself on the line and being shoved into the dirt. I came to Abbott because my ex was at my old school. She made sure every private thing I shared with her was public knowledge until the thought of going into school was embarrassing torture.”

You choke on a bit of air before you continue, “I wanted to start fresh, but instead…instead I started the cycle all over again. But, I think this time it was worse because you didn't even give me a chance. You immediately looked at me, thought I was a fuck up, and didn't let me prove you different.”

You’re crying now, but you don't care.  For the first time in your life, you had stood up for yourself- even when your voice shook. You can see how much it hurts Melissa to be associated with the tremendous pain that came before, and a tiny piece of you ached. You can’t bring yourself to care that you’re making yourself vulnerable in front of the one coworker who never showed you an ounce of kindness until she crossed the line and was made aware of it because of Barbara- you had heard your grade level partner scolding her while running out. Melissa hurt you for so long, and now she deserves to see just how powerful her actions and words can be.You smother the feeling down- nothing you said had been untrue-for once in your life, you weren't going to apologize for feeling hurt.

“You aren't nothing,” Melissa whispers with another million words swirling in her head. She wants to reach out to you- to mend your broken pieces- give you the opportunity to see you through her eyes. 

“Then why do you hate me?” you cry out. You don’t even bother to wipe your tears. They just continuously stream down your face. “I know you treat all newbies like that, but... even Ava told me that she has never seen you treat a new hire the way you treated me- and I know I shouldn’t always believe what Ava has to say, but Barbara was there. Barbara was nodding along, confirming that you have never been so terrible to another coworker in the time that you’ve been working with her.”

When the redhead in front of you reaches for you, you pull yourself away angrily. You act as if her touch would scorch your skin- burn you. “You know what? I don’t even care anymore. I’m putting this place behind me, and I’m putting you in my past. I- I hope you got what you were looking for this year, Melissa.”

You grab one of the last two boxes and leave your classroom to walk over to Barbara’s classroom.

The veteran teacher glances up at you as she’s stacking the last of her chairs, and her smile falls once she sees the red rings around your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Barbara pauses her work to pull you into a hug. “If this is how you feel leaving us, you don’t have to. Ava still hasn’t filed for your resig-”

“It- It’s not that,” you whisper as you set the box in your hands down on her desk. “It’s-”

“Y/N,” Melissa comes to the classroom.

“Melissa, I don’t think now is a-” Barb starts, but then she takes notice of the tears now also trailing down on Melissa’s face.

Melissa pushes past Barbara completely ignoring her. “Y/N wait, I need to show you something.”

You turn to look at her to plead for her to leave you alone. Before you say anything she pushes back your hair exposing your soulmate tattoo. With her other hand she pulls at the waistband of her slacks to reveal her hipbone. The fabric moves away just enough to expose a matching tattoo. 

The whole world comes to a halt and, you gulp, “No, no-it can't be.”

“But it is.” It isn’t the voice you expect to hear. It’s not Melissa’s; it’s Barbara’s.

You pull away from Melissa harshly, and you see the way her face falls, but you can’t stop to look at her right now. No. Your eyes land on your grade level partner with a fire that neither woman has seen before. Just a few minutes earlier, Melissa thought you had unleashed your wrath on her, but at this very moment, she realizes that there is a big difference between your anger and your hurt. 

“You knew,” you point an accusatory finger. “You fuckin’ knew? And you didn’t tell me?!”

Barb takes a step back as she raises her hands in surrender. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t tell you.”

“How long have you known?” you ask her, ignoring her question. “How long have you known and chosen not to tell me?!”

“Y/N, babygirl,” your colleague says calmly. “Take a deep breath.”

“I will not,” you state defiantly. “Answer my question.”

“I- I’ve known since... the second week of you being here,” Barbara admits, and with the way that Melissa’s jaw drops, you know this is new information to her. “I wanted to tell you both, but you know that other legend that if someone else tells you who you are, it won’t work. So, I wanted to tell you, but I wanted the two of you to find each other more.”

You rub at your temples as you attempt to take all of this information- this life changing information- in.

You turn to Melissa. “And how long have you known? And tell me why you didn’t tell me.”

“I knew that day I saw your tattoo,”  Melissa whispers, “I tried…but you wouldn't look at me let alone talk to me.”

Your anger only stutters for a moment when the truth hits deep. “I… Fuck… I can't do this right now. No. No. I refuse.”

“Y/N, please,” Melissa begs, holding out her hand. “Give me a chance. Just give me a chance.”

You go to speak but the words catch in your throat. It’s too much information all at once with way too many messy feelings attached- feelings you smother any time they try to rise- but now you can't seem to escape. Between reliving your past, and this new information that absolutely changes your whole world, you feel so overwhelmed- beyond overwhelmed. You know the panic attack is coming only a second before it slams down on you. You shake your head, backing up until your back hits the wall. Barbara steps back, but Melissa steps forward- a look of pure dread in her eye.

You close your eyes as you desperately try to ground yourself, but you can feel it all starting to slip. The crack in your usual facade is worse than you thought it could have been. Your breath catches - then stalls - then stops completely. The fact that there is no new oxygen hitting your lungs? It only causes you to panic more, and your legs give way. You slide along the wall and hit the floor in a tight ball, snapping the breath back into you. But it comes in desperate pants. You might have air reaching your lungs at this point, but it's far too little. Your body shakes while your hands curl into fists, the room feels hot and cold all at the same time, the voices in your head overpower everything around you. You fight to find a way out, but the darkness presses in on all sides. 

Melissa is next to you within a moment, but Barbara’s voice is piercing. “That isn't a good idea, Melissa. What if you make it worse?”

“Get the fuck out, Barb!” Melissa snaps, and she knows her friend is hurt, but she doesn’t care. The only thing that matters right now is making sure that she can ground you.

“Melissa, I will not leave when Y/N is-” the kindergarten teacher protests. “-I will not!”

“Barbara!” the redhead practically bites out. “She’s my soulmate! I can do this!”

“And she is my mentee, and like a daughter to me at this point!”

That one little comment cuts through the rest of the haziness. Barbara thinks of you as a daughter. She loves you. She wants to be here for you- unlike... unlike your actual mother, who has shaken you through panic attacks and told you that you were crazy. And that brings back thoughts of your biological mother and sends you into a whole other tizzy.

“Barb,” you gasp out. You want to tell her to leave, that you don’t want her to see you in such a vulnerable state, but you can’t. So instead, you point to her and gesture to the door.

And because it’s you telling the kindergarten teacher to leave and not Melissa, she gives in to your request. She leaves the room quietly, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, hoping that that brings you down just a little. Then she shoots Melissa a look, silently conveying that she needs to bring you back down to Earth and exits.

There is a pull to protect you, one that trumps any formality or decency. Melissa crouches over you protecting you from view as Barbara lingers by the door. She practically growls at Barbara until the older woman leaves the room shutting the door behind her. Once alone, the tension in her shoulders doesn't lessen- just smooths out as she sits to face you. Her legs box you in securely yet still loosely enough that you don't feel caged in.

She places her hands gently on top of yours. You jump out instinctively- a flashback of your mother grabbing you by the shoulders to attempt to shake you out of your panic, but you don’t move away. So she presses forward, “Honey, it’s just me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here.”

She doesn't ask how to pull you out of this trance - you couldn't have told her if you tried- just rubs a reassuring hand up and down your arm. She hums softly, hoping that you can grab onto her voice and hold onto it through the typhoon of voices in your head. With her other hand she uncurls your fingers, placing it against her thigh.

“See? That’s me,” she soothes, letting your hand wrap around hers tightly- much more tightly than she would’ve expected. “I'm here. I ain’t runnin’, and I ain’t lettin’ you go- not again.”

She repeats the same movement with your other hand then leans forward to press her forehead against yours. Her low humming continues, and it continues to subtly ground you. You feel her presence wrap around you like a cloud of smoke. The shaking has stopped as you ground into her, but your breath still struggles to find a consistent rhythm.

“I got you, mi amore,” she whispers, placing a protective hand on your thigh. “We gotta breathe though. I'll walk us through it. It doesn’t have to be perfect when we start. We’s gonna  get there. Yeah?”

You nod your head just once, and Melissa starts. She draws a box on your thigh as she speaks numbers aloud. Breathe in- 1,2,3,4. Hold- 1,2. Breathe out 1,2,3,4. Hold 1,2. She repeats it over and over till your breath calms. Melissa doesn't even have to ask why you only hold for two seconds instead of four. She just knows, and the fact makes you melt a little more.

You aren't sure how much time passes, but Melissa never moves; she just stays with her forehead pressing against yours as she counts slowly while also humming softly. Finally you uncurl your legs and arms, and there’s a part of you that wants to reach for her- she is your soulmate afterall, and it finally makes sense to you why your spine has always tingled when you’re around her. Only now that you're back in your own body, do you understand that you have always felt a pull towards her. But you resist your wants. And then, without a beat of hesitation, she pulls you to her cradling you in her lap as if she can read your mind and knows exactly what you want. Even now that your head isn’t nearly as foggy as it once was, Melissa knows that you won’t ask for this- something inside of her is just telling her to pull you in and not let go. She pulls you close as she leans against the wall for stability. With one hand running through your hair and the other one rubbing circles down your back, she lets herself breathe.

“You are okay,” she whispers. “I got you. I'm here. You are safe. I ain’t leaving.”

You realize this is the first time in your life you have never had to explain to someone how to take care of you. Melissa just knew. And in that moment, you understand that she absolutely, without a doubt, is your soulmate.

It all makes sense now. Those feelings in your stomach whenever you were around her weren’t bubbles of anger; they were butterflies. The lingering looks the two of you gave each other whenever you were near; it’s the undeniable attraction from a force high above either of you.

Your eyes focus on the woman. “Melissa.”

“I’m right here,” she tells you softly, quietly, with more warmth than you had ever heard from her before.

“I know,” you whisper. Now that you have control of your breathing and your body again, you squeeze the redhead’s hand gently. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for letting me be here for you,” the second grade teacher smiles at you, and for the first time, it’s a genuine smile directed at you.

Unsure of what to do now- there’s been so much information thrown on you in the past hour- you sigh and start to get to your feet. You’re a bit shaky, and you have to lean on the wall, but not for long. Before you know what’s happening, your soulmate’s arm is looped around your waist and offering you support.

“Easy, Y/N,” Melissa tells you. “You just had the panic attack of your life.”

You bite your lip. If she’s your soulmate, you may as well admit this now. “They- they aren’t the most uncommon thing for me.”

“And that’s alright,” the second grade teacher assures you quietly. “I’ll be here through them all.”

You take a deep breath and look at her. “How can you go from hating me with every fiber of your being to telling me you’ll be here for me through everything?” You hate the way your voice shakes as you ask the question, but you need the answer.

“I-” Melissa worries her bottom lip through her teeth. “I never hated you. Wanted to, sure. But never did. Saw the way you’re great with the kids, saw the way that you seamlessly implanted yourself into the school- as much as I wanted to hate it. Didn’t hate that you’re easy on the eyes,” she chuckles a bit awkwardly as she runs a hand through her own red locks. “Knew you were somethin’ special. Just didn’t know that you were my soulmate... until I saw your tattoo by accident. That was the day I had my hand around your wrist- didn’t even realize I was hurting you until Barb pulled me off. I was so in shock and in my own head that the world around me stopped. And I- I’m sorry I did that.”

You blow out a heavy breath. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” she just nods. “You okay?”

You exhale softly. “I- I think so.”

“Good,” she murmurs. “Good. That’s good. We should... uh, get outta here. I’m sure Barb’s right on the other side of that door pacing and praying that you’re okay and that we’re okay.”

You think that Melissa will let go of your waist, but she holds it almost tighter now as you walk to the door. You open it, and Barbara almost faceplants as she stumbles forward. 

“Listened the whole time, didn't ya?” Melissa asks, and you can sense the hurt mixed in the humor.

Barbara smooths down her shirt as she steps back. “I had to make sure my daughter was safe.”

“I know how to care for my soulmate. I don't need a babysitter,” The redhead jabs.

You can tell Barbara is about to say something snippy back- extending the argument, but you hold up a hand- you don’t have the mental capacity for this. “Can we please stop fighting for a minute? I'm tired, and I want to go home.”

“I can take you home,” they both say in unison, and you sigh.

You release yourself from Melissa’s hold, go back into Barbara’s classroom to gather your box, and then head into your own room to get the last of your belongings. Immediately, you see the two work wives tripping over themselves to help you.

“Sweetheart, I can help you and take you home,” Barbara tells you as she follows you.

“Or I could- you know, since I’m your soulmate,” Melissa trails behind.

You roll your eyes. “Ladies, I appreciate the willingness to help, but my car is here, and- and I think I just need a bit of time to process everything: leaving Abbott, finding my soulmate- someone I thought hated me with everything in her-, and finding out that Barb thinks of me as a daughter? That’s a lot.”

Green eyes meet yours, silently begging you to let her take care of you, but you shake your head. She nods, resigned.

“I- I just need... I don’t know,” you sigh as you head out of the school.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @eliscannotdance @m6niacs @fragile-angell @infernumlilith @milfjuulpod  @alwaysgoodnight @jeridandridge

[schemmentisimpasours]

Presenting to you my writing cycle

[schemmentisimpasours]

All I needed to plan out the next... 12 chapters of Monsters In My Head was to crush a couple games of Overwatch while bouncing ideas off of @writerspirit. 😅 Remember when this was supposed to be a one shot and instead became my child? Fucking A.

[schemmentisimpasours]

Monsters in My Head: Chap 14: I Get To Love You

Summary: Melissa meets your sister Bridget and everything around you seems to be clicking into place.

Warnings: Mentions of past drinking, struggles with alcoholism

A/N: Is that my real-life sister Bridget? YES. (YOU BETTER BE NICE ABOUT HER AMAZING TATTOOS! One is Han Solo with Valentine's day hearts and I love him).

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Masterlist

3.4k

Lyrics: And they say love is a journey //I promise that I'll never leave //When it's too heavy to carry //Remember this moment with me //I get to love you

Dear Melissa, 

I think I am more nervous about my sister coming into town than you are. It has been a long time since I last saw her. She tried to visit me a couple of times when I was with Kylee, but she was never allowed. Kylee would always make excuses for why we couldn’t talk or see each other. Soon, my sister just stopped coming around. When Kylee and I broke up, I reached out to her and we started talking more- she knows some of what happened but not the whole story. I am worried that if I ever share the whole story, I might completely crumble. Ouida says that sharing it might give me strength…I'm not willing to take the risk. Not when I already feel like I am going to lose so much. 

I don't want to be scared anymore, Melissa.

-~-

Melissa watches as you pace the living room of your apartment, one eye on the clock to make sure you actually leave for the airport in time. She doesn’t rush you, just sits back against the couch as you try to work it out.

“I should drive. Nope, I shouldn’t drive cause I am scared. Why am I scared? This is going to be fine. Mel should drive. Nope. Maybe driving will calm me down. She is my sister. She literally raised me. This is fine. I am fine. The lies I tell myself,” You mutter as you make another lap around the living room. 

“I can’t believe I am acting this fucking stupid,” You say, and that is when Melissa finally steps in. 

She cuts off your path, grabbing your hands gently in hers. “Stop that shit right now. You are not stupid. You haven’t seen your sister in a long time; you are allowed to be nervous.”

She places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you melt into her, “You are right. I am amazing and can do things that scare me.”

“Yes, you can my love,” Melissa smiles but slides the keys from your palm, “Except drive to the airport- that I am not going to let you do. The traffic is going to give you unnecessary anxiety right before you meet your sister. I will drive, you just sit in the passenger seat like the perfect angel you are.”

You roll your eyes, but you smile and say, “I love you.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you,” Melissa smirks, and you both head towards the car. 

On the way to the airport, the redhead draws random patterns on your thigh while she drives. The music plays softly in the background as you look out the window. A care package that Melissa put together sits by your feet, sliding across the floor as she accelerates and slows. The simplicity of it all is such a contrast to the tension that used to fill the room last week. You can't believe that at one point you almost lost all of this.

You don't know what makes you say it, but it spills out of your lips in a rush, “Do you miss drinking?”

“Every day,” Melissa answers honestly, “But if the options are to lose everything I love or take a drink, I'll turn away the drink every time.”

You smile over at the redhead, linking your fingers through hers, “I'm so proud of you. I know none of this is easy, but I want to know that I see you trying to make it better. You amaze me every day.”

“You amaze me too baby,” She says, bringing her hand up to kiss the back of your palm, “Every single second of every single day.”

~-~

Melissa holds your hand all the way to the arrival gate, her thumb running along your palm in a soothing motion. The anxiety and excitement radiate off you in waves, and you bounce on the tips of your toes. Your eyes scan the crowd. Melissa can tell that if you don’t see Bridget soon, you may explode. It takes a handful of minutes before you gasp and your eyes lock onto her. 

Bridget comes up the escalator with a large backpack and a hoodie hanging off her arm. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and large square black frame glasses surround the blue-gray of her eyes. Melissa smiles as she takes in the tattoos that litter the arms and legs of your sister. She doesn't think there is a tattoo-free inch on Bridget’s body- and it makes her look fucking gorgeous.

“BRIDGET!” You yell as your feet slam against the linoleum. People turn to look at you, but you don’t care. Melissa merely grins, pulling out her phone to capture it all.

Your sister drops her backpack and everything in her hands to open her arms to you. She meets you in the middle, and within seconds, you are jumping into her. Your legs curl around her hips, and she stumbles for a moment before holding you steady. Her arms wrap around you in a protective cocoon. Melissa watches with a smile spread across her face. She approaches slowly, not wanting to ruin the moment, but as she gets closer, Bridget’s eyes glance up at the redhead’s.

“You must be Melissa,” She smiles and extends an arm out to the older woman. 

It’s an awkward first hug as you still cling to your sister, but Melissa doesn’t care. She embraces the blonde, leaving you in a sandwich. A peal of laughter escapes your lips, and soon the whole group is laughing. Finally, Bridget gently places you down and moves to give Melissa a real hug. 

“Nice to meet you finally Melissa,” Bridget smiles wrapping her hand through yours as she pulls back, “Y/N has told me so much about you- mostly about how lucky I am get to experience your cooking.”

“A Schemmenti dinner is a thing of legends,” The redhead smirks. “Y/N mentioned that you are non-alcholic…I am too, so I made sure to stock up on some different options at the house for you. If I missed something, we can always go out during the weekend.”

It’s the first time Melissa admits it out loud to someone outside Abbott and AA. Maybe it's easier because she knows Bridget is also sober. Either way, it calms something inside of her when Bridget smiles without judgment. 

“Mel also set up the guest room for you.”

You don’t miss the way that Bridget’s eyebrow quirks up as the puzzle pieces come together. It only takes a second before she blurts out what is on her mind, “Oh, are you and Y/N living…”

“No, I um. Not yet,” I stammer out, embarrassment coursing through me, “We are going to spend the weekend at Mel’s house, though.”

You see a million questions cross Bridget’s face, but she only nods, “Well, I am starving- I have been dreaming of Italian for hours.” 

“Let’s get you fed then.”

Melissa grabs Bridget’s backpack and hoodie off the floor, swinging it over her shoulder. She kisses you gently on the cheek before she sets off towards the car. You and Bridget fall into step behind her. Melissa walks close enough that she can still be seen but far enough away that you can talk to your sister in private. You lean heavily against her as if trying to soak in as much Bridget as you can. 

“I am sorry if I embarrassed you,” Bridget says softly, “You know it was not my intention.”

“Never,” You reassure her, “Melissa’s house is more like home than my apartment…at least it was.”

“Are you sure you can do this?”

You don’t even hesitate when you respond, “With you and Mel- I can do anything.”

~-~

When you slide into the backseat, letting Melissa drive home, Bridget lets out an audible gasp, “You let her drive you but not me?”

“You used to drive donuts in the school parking lot at 3 am,” You counter, which only makes Melissa laugh.

“So did I,” The redhead admits. After sharing a high five with Bridget, she grins back at you, “I have precious cargo now, so I'll keep the donuts to a minimum.”

“What I am hearing is a secret 3 am excursion?” Bridget teases, and you roll your eyes when Melissa winks at her.

This is how the rest of the car ride unfolds- childhood stories flying back and forth- as you watch the two most important people in your world get to know each other. There are no awkward silences, just a car full of laughter. You almost forget the other part of this trip that you are scared by-until you pull into Melissa’s driveway- and it comes flooding back. You clench your hands together, stepping out of the car to follow Bridget and Melissa inside. Melissa sees your hesitancy, her lips pulled back to say something when Bridget cuts her off.

“Melissa, I'm dying to look into this care package you made me, but I think I left something in the car. Can you put it inside, and I'll catch up with you?”

It is a plausible scenario- one Melissa doesn't fall for- but she takes the basket and heads inside. Bridget turns towards you, laying her hands gently on your shoulder.

“She isn't Kylee. She is Melissa- the woman who loves you- who is trying to make it up to you. Staying on this side of fear isn't helping either of you,” She says, her thumbs running soothing circles along your collarbone. It was the same thing that she always did when you had panic attacks when you were younger. 

You nod, taking a deep breath, “I know, I just needed a moment. I can do this.”

“You can and I will be with you every step of the way,” Bridget nods gently, nudging you towards the door.

You step inside expecting a wave of anxiety, but instead, something inside you settles. The fuzzy blanket you keep here is strewn over the back of the couch- a stack of books piled on the coffee table ieqws waiting for you to read- one of your favorite cardigans hangs by the door. You toss your shoes next to Melissa’s boots knowing full well she will come straighten them out with a little sigh later. Walking through the hall, your fingers trace the pictures along the wall-the captured moments of laughs and smiles between you and Melissa- but there are more now. Candid shots of you now litter what used to be open spaces: head up towards the snow as it falls in large flakes around you, curling up in the bay window reading, a soft smile on your lips at a rollerskating rink.

“You always look the happiest on skates,” Melissa says softly.

For the first time, you don't jump at her sudden appearance, you just smile as you lock eyes with her green ones, “There are only two things that can calm the darkness- you and roller skates.”

“I heard that!” Bridget yells as she moves around you both. 

You only laugh in response as Melissa steps forward, grabbing your waist to pull you close. Your hands automatically fall to her shoulders. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours, “Welcome home mi amore.”

As she holds you, Bridget sticks her head out from the kitchen, “Melissa, I didn't peg you for a woman to have all plastic plates and cups.”

The redhead laughs, “It is a new development-still getting used to it.”

She goes to walk back into the kitchen, but you gently grab her wrist. She turns to look at you- your eyebrow is quivering in confusion- your words fall out in a rush, “What happened to all your nice plates?”

“I got rid of them and all the belts. I refuse to have any items in this house that will trigger you,” Melissa admits with an earnest look in her eye.

Your heart soars as you look at her- you realize that no one has ever tried to understand you in this way, has seen the darkest parts of you not left. You lean forward to kiss her- just a light brush of your lips- before you pull away. “I love you Mel.”

You want to say more, but the words are lost; maybe one day you will be able to tell her. 

-~-

By the time dinner was done Melissa and Bridget were swapping stories like they had known each other their whole life. The two sides of your world coming together made your heart soar, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like everything is finally falling into place. You don’t even mind when Bridget is screen-sharing old embarrassing photos of you on the TV. You only smile as you watch the show while your legs rest in Melissa’s lap. The redhead has one hand resting on your thigh, with her thumb creating small circles. Her other hand was brushing through your hair lightly. Every so often, she would lean over and kiss you gently on the forehead. Melissa had always been affectionate, sure, but ever since the break, it was like she needed one hand touching you to make sure that you wouldn’t disappear. 

 It was deep into the night when Bridget finally escaped to the guest room. Melissa gently nudges your shoulder, waking you from the light slumber that you had fallen into. 

“You ready to go to bed, mi amore?” she asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. 

You nod sleepily, letting Melissa grab your hand and walk you back to the bedroom. Even in your half-asleep daze, you notice the small differences since your absence. A new picture of you is on her nightstand from when she took you book shopping- her therapy notebook is turned upside down on the bed with her cursive scrawl visible on every page- sticky notes with reminders were stuck all over her vanity. 

Remember who you are doing this for. Sober looks good on you. You will find you again. Nothing that happens today requires a drink. Look at you all sober and shit.

You walk over to her vanity, grabbing a purple sticky note you scrawl: I love you Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti. Forever and Always. You place it in the middle of the mirror as Melissa wraps her hands around your waist. Her hair falls over your shoulder as she leans into you. 

“Forever and always sounds pretty good to me,” She whispers and kisses you gently on the cheek.

-~-

Melissa’s arm is wrapped around you, her face buried into your hair, when the bedroom door opens. The redhead looks as the hallway light spills into the room. Bridget is dressed in a dark hoodie and shorts, motioning for Melissa.

“Mel!” She says in a loud whisper, “It’s Taco Bell time!” 

“You still haven’t learned to whisper,” You groan, burying yourself further into the pillow.

This only causes Bridget to come in, flopping herself down on the bed.  She boops your nose, “Are you joining us for Taco Bell time sis?”

“Bring me back a drink and a burrito.”

Bridget doesn’t wait a moment longer, only pulls Melissa from the bed. The two of them don’t even try to be quiet as the redhead gets ready for the adventure. You pretend to sleep but listen as they run through the house laughing the entire time. You hear the front door shut and then immediately open again. Melissa rushes back into the bedroom, out of breath, leaning down to kiss you on the forehead. 

“I’ll be back mi amore,” She whispers before running back down the stairs. 

A smile crosses your lips as you flick on the nightstand light, pulling out a book to wait for the goofballs to come home. 

Bridget is driving while Melissa blasts music through the speakers. They scream along to the lyrics, windows down as the cool night air rushes across their skin. Melissa feels like she is in high school all over again, but one important thing is missing: alcohol. Your sister notices immediately how her mood dampens, and she turns the music down. 

“I used to mix Tito’s into my Mtn Dew- then drive around till the sun came up, seeing if I could avoid the police while hitting 100 on the side roads,” Bridget explains as she pulls into the drive-thru line.

There is a pause before Bridget begins again, and Melissa can see the tears springing in her eyes. “Till I was nineteen and I snuck my 13-year-old sister out of the house. I missed her and felt guilty for going to college. I was three drinks in before Y/N even got in the car. When she told me about how our mom was beating her again…I lost control and wrapped the car around a telephone pole.”

Melissa’s heart sinks and she reaches out her hand to wrap in Bridget’s as your sister begins to cry, “I almost killed myself and the most important person in my life. All because I wanted something to numb the memories that haunted me. I haven’t drank since the day I knew Y/N was going to be okay.”

“Y/N said you were sober but never told me why.”

“She doesn’t remember. Well, she chooses not to,” Bridget explains. “She knows that we were in the car and that I was driving, but she thinks it was ice that made us crash. Even after I told her it was all my fault… she just hugged me and told me in her mind it would always be because of the ice.”

“What I am trying to tell you Lis is that the need to have alcohol…it never really goes away. Instead, you learn to exist around the missing piece, a kind of grief that isn’t about a person but a thing, that you know you can never get back. You just have to remember why you wanted to get sober in the first place,” Bridget consoles Melissa, grabbing the food from the window. “Also, it helps to do stupid shit sober.”

Melissa quirks an eyebrow when a huge bag of hot sauces lands in her lap. Bridget slides the cashier a twenty and then sets back off into the Philly night, “We have about twenty minutes before Y/N’s food gets too cold. We can probably hit at least fifty mailboxes in that time.”

“You want to place hot sauce packets…in mailboxes,” Melissa asks, knowing damn well she is already in for the stupid prank.

Bridget nods and pulls down a side street, parking the car, “First one to finish their side of the street wins.”

-~-

Twenty minutes later, Melissa and Bridget burst into the bedroom. They flop down on either side of you, full of laughter and bright smiles. 

“How many hot sauce packets did you hand out this time?” You ask through a fit of giggles.

“66!” Melissa smiles, “Shame we didn’t get those last 3 in.”

Bridget snorts, handing you a bag, “Next time Lis. I need a rematch anyway.”

You look at the redhead with a broad grin, “You beat her? Now that is something I have to be witness to next time.”

The conversation lulls after that as food is swapped and shared, but Melissa’s heart is full. She watches as you lie on her chest, curling into her, but stick one hand out to hold Bridget’s. You lean up to kiss her gently on the cheek before settling back down to fall asleep for the night. The redhead is on the edge of the bed, but has never been more comfortable than she is right now. This is the life that she has always wanted, and now that she has it, she refuses to let it go ever again. 

-~-

Dear Y/N,

In one night, Bridget has shown me more love than my family has my whole life. I want this life with you more than I think I have ever wanted anything. Yet every day I am waiting for the other shoe to drop- for me to fuck it all up. Ava always talks about how a life of sobriety doesn’t mean there won’t be relapses; it is about how we recover from the relapse. I am just worried that if there is a relapse, we won’t be strong enough to recover from it. Or maybe I won’t be. I don’t know anymore mi amore. How can I be so happy and so scared all at the same time? I don’t want to be scared anymore.

Taglist

@writerspirit // @casualfoxwitch // @babytakeittothehead // @milfjuulpod // @yoyo-w // @cupldscntrl // @milfslvr // @liliapleasesteponme // @marvel210 // @derpyavocado // @morgana-larkin // @tsuki-brujita // @senatormellies // @janeyseymour // @schemmentisbaby

[schemmentisimpasours]

Chapter 4 is added! This series is growing and shit is about to go down. Better catch up now.

The Paradox of Us Masterlist

Summary: Soulmates. Everyone has one. Or at least they hope they do but after years of looking Melissa has given up. She doesn't need a soulmate. Doesn't want one. Right?

Collab with: @janeyseymour (One of us was tipsy and one sleep deprived. Who was who? The world may never know).

Also, what happens when you mix a mostly angst writer with a mostly fluff writer? You will just have to wait and see.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (Incoming)

Chapter 6 (WIP)

[schemmentisimpasours]

We are getting closer to my mental breakdown rant. I love this series so much. I was so worried about collab writing but this is my favorite fic by far.

The Paradox of Us- part 4

Collab with @schemmentisimpasours

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Summary: melissa tries to fix it. will it work?

WC: ~3.55k

Melissa knows exactly how she is going to get you back when school starts again on Monday- well, she hopes she does. She’s spent hours trying to figure out how to make it up to you, but at this point she had no confidence in herself. She’ll either win you over, or she’ll die trying. And if she’s being honest with herself? She may die trying.

It starts with something that she thinks is simple and sweet: little sticky notes placed on your desk with little phrases. Throughout the year you have always had little reminders stuck on your planner, your computer screen, your keyboard, a few pinned on the bulletin board by your desk- a different phrase every time but always something to remind you of who you are. Melissa used to pick on you enough because of them that they finally started to hide on the inside pages instead of the binding on the outside. It was the first mistake that Melissa wants to make up for. 

You’re very clearly avoiding the break room as much as possible, so Melissa sneaks into the building before you come into school on Monday. You always keep your door locked, but Melissa springs it open with ease, not even bothering to ask Mr.Johnson to open it for her.

She glances around at your room. This is really the first time she’s stepped into your classroom further than the doorframe to yell for her work wife. Your room is... it’s different from Barb’s, yet it still has that warmth that every kindergarten classroom should have. Her eyes land on a few of the post-it notes that you’ve written for yourself, taped to the desk drawers. And then her eyes land on a small little turtle figurine- no doubt bought from one of the Jersey shores. It makes her smile with an ease that she hasn’t felt since... in a long time.

With a shake of the head and a shaky exhale, she reaches for one of the post-it note stacks and picks up a pen.

In her own scrawl, not the teacher handwriting that she uses for her students, she writes, I never meant to hurt you. You are worth so much more than you know. She follows it up with: I’m sorry. -Melissa. She doodles a heart before leaving it on your desk and heading out.

When you walk into the school that day, you can’t help the sense of dread that is filled within you. It’s that sense of dread that you felt on Friday, the feeling of knowing you essentially have to fade into the walls of Abbott and make yourself as unassuming as possible- something that the day you escaped her clutches, you promised yourself you would never, ever do again.

Your door is slightly ajar when you come to it. You could’ve sworn you locked the door before you left for the weekend; you always do. But with a shrug, you make your way into your classroom and drop your belongings behind your desk before settling into your desk chair. And then your eyes land on the note. 

You read it once, twice, then a third time. Your heart aches, your eyes fill with tears, but your mind races. It’s a mixture of emotions, and you don't have time to feel all of them right now. You have to focus on the work you have ahead of you for the day. You grab the note, crumbling it up in your hand. You hesitate over the trash can, a piece of you unwilling to let it go. Why are you hesitating to let it go? Eventually finger by finger you let it drop. You close your eyes as it drops, hoping it will help ease the pain. It doesn't in the slightest, but it also means you don't see when it falls into the desk drawer you always leave open just a crack because it sticks instead of the trash can.

There’s a small part of you that wants to retrieve the note- a small part of you that wants to forgive Melissa for all that she’s done to you- but you don’t. Instead, you turn to your work.

Melissa wants to know if you’ve gotten her note. She’s constantly on the lookout for you, trying to trace your movements, look for even a glance over in her direction. You don’t give it to her.

You don’t enter the staff room for lunch. Barbara sighs heavily. She knows that while you’re extremely upset still by what has taken place on top of your decision to leave Abbott after this school year, she was hoping that you would at least continue to have lunch with her- keep her in your circle. But to you? Barbara is Melissa’s- they’ve been coworkers for years, work wives for years, best friends since long before you came into the picture.

You slip out, making sure that you lock your door, once the teachers’ bell rings. You give a cordial wave to Barbara, who tries to catch your attention, and continue on your way.

Melissa misses you by a minute- curse her bladder.

“She’s already left for the day,” Barbara says quietly from her desk. “Just missed her.”

Melissa knows Barbara is hurt just by the monotone voice, “Barb… I'm sorry. I should have listened to you the first time you told me to stop.”

Barbara only sighs and looks at the ceiling, “Well it seems it is a little too late now.”

The next morning, again, the redhead trying to get back into your good graces breaks and enters into your room. This time, she writes: You are in the right place, doing what you love. -Melissa.

And again, you crumble it up and throw it in the direction of your trash can. Once again, it lands in your drawer.

Your day continues on much like yesterday did, although this time you do have to venture into the staff lounge to heat up the leftovers you brought for lunch. Making sure you have your AirPods in, you exit your classroom as quickly as you can. You hope that you don’t run into the people that you are, at this point, actively avoiding.

Her red hair is the first thing you see, glasses sitting on top of her head. Your heart stops for a second, but you continue on.

You’re fairly certain that she’s speaking to you, unaware of the fact that your little earbuds are concealed under your hair. You wait for your food to warm, and then you exit without a word. You only give Barbara a solemn nod- a silent agreement that the two of you will meet to discuss a few things for the end of the year later.

Barbara enters your classroom and notices how you have already started to take down your personal effects. You are already starting to erase all that you have done. She bites her lip as she makes her way to the table you sit at in the back.

“Please Y/N, there has to be some way I can convince you to stay,” Babara asks with a hint of pleading in her voice. You know that your colleague never begs, never pleads. She wants you to stay desperately.

“Barb…you have to stop,” you say gently, a pit already forming in your stomach, “I'm not changing my mind. I have told you that multiple times. I have to do this.”

“You belong here,” the older woman continues. “That incident with Melissa will never happen again. Something happened that day and it…she wasn't herself.”

Your curiosity spikes and you try to remember what transpired before Melissa hadn't let go. She had come to talk about the book you bought her. When you went to walk away she tried to stop you. The motion had made you spin around and your hair to move before you could quickly pat it back into its place. That is when she had stopped her hand tightening around you. 

Your hand automatically moves to the tattoo hidden behind your ear. She saw my soulmate tattoo. 

You groan loudly. “She saw my tattoo, didn’t she?”

Barbara nods through a tight lip, and she hopes that you put the two and two together. But you don’t. Instead, you begin to cry.

“Nobody has ever seen my tattoo,” you whisper softly. “Now I’ll never find my soulmate.”

The kindergarten teacher doesn’t know what to say. She can’t tell you about Melissa’s revelation. You have to figure that out yourself.

You shake out your hands before wiping your tears from your cheeks. “Just when I think she has taken everything from me she finds one more- the biggest thing of all.”

Your mentor pulls you into a hug, and she gently smoothes over your hair. As much as you want to melt into her arms, like you have on more than one occasion, you have to pull away.

You take a second to compose yourself once again. “Whatever. It’s fine. I- Maybe the legend is wrong. I’ll- I’ll be fine, after I leave this place.”

Barbara doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want you to leave. She knows that the soulmate legend doesn’t apply to you- you just don't know that Melissa has the same tattoo. She knows that Melissa is your soulmate, and she knows that even if you do end up leaving Abbott, the two of you will find your way to each other again. But if you stay at Abbott, you’ll surely cause yourself less havoc.

“So, how are we going about kindergarten graduation?” you change the subject quickly. 

Barbara doesn't fight the change in topic. If this is the last couple of days she has with you she isn't going to waste it on things she can't control. 

When Melissa notices the notes have gone unnoticed, she changes tactics. She knows you hate making copies because by some trick of fate it always breaks when you need it without fail. So she takes it upon herself to make copies for you. Barbara tells her the lesson plans for the week and the red head sits at the printer for hours. She screams Italian curses, slams her hand against the shitty plastic, and throws paper around the office more than once. 

When the task is finally done she places it all on your desk with a note reading: So you don’t have to fight with the copier. -Mel and slips out seconds before you turn down the hall to enter. She watches tucked behind Barb’s door across the hall as you look at the papers. There is a look of confusion that passes your face for only a moment before you take the whole pile of paper and throw it in the recycling bin. You don’t need her doing your dirty work for you.

When Barbara comes into your room to continue on with planning for the last few weeks of school, she notices the papers thrown in the recycling bin.

“Did it not print correctly?” she asks with a brow raised.

“Tell your friend I don’t need her to waste her copier money on me,” you huff. Then, you take a deep breath and compose yourself. “I’m sorry, Barb. That wasn’t very kind of me.”

The kindergarten teacher clicks her tongue a few times. “Not a problem, dear. Just know that Melissa has more copier money saved than any of the rest of us in the building, and she doesn’t waste her prints for just anybody.”

“Well, according to her, I’m a nobody,” you sigh. “So I don’t need her charity work after she’s put me through the ringer for the last seven months... anyway, back to planning.”

Barbara lets her work wife know that her gestures are not being appreciated and that she shouldn’t waste her copier money or her sanity any longer.

“I don’t understand why she won’t even look at me,” Melissa grumbles. “I’ve done everything I can to make it up to her.”

“Forgive me,” the kindergarten teacher blows out a deep breath. “But you quite literally put her through hell this year... I don’t blame her for not wanting to forgive you as easily as you want her to.”

“I'm tryin’ my best here, Barb,” the red head mumbles.

Barbara  just raises her eyebrow at her best friend, “More like trying the bare minimum, Melissa. You didn't just hurt her feelings a little, you made her feel like nothing. She walks around thinking she is a nobody, and has walked around like that long before you came along to only further drill those thoughts into her head. That doesn't go away with silly notes and copies.”

Melissa groans, “Fuck, I know.”

Melissa tries a more personal approach this time. Maybe she can’t win you over with post-it notes or copies of work, but she knows you drink coffee like it is part of your bloodstream. She also knows that you often forget where you place your cup. When you finally remember, the coffee is cold and you drink it- even if you groan the whole time.

Melissa’s seen you sometimes with multiple cups throughout the day, and on certain mornings, she sees you with a disposable cup of coffee from a coffee shop not too far down the road.

“Barb, what’s that one coffee shop down the road that Y/N loves?”

The kindergarten teacher raises a brow but answers lowly, “Knockbox cafe.”

And so, the next morning, when you get into your classroom, a warm travel mug from Knockbox is sitting on your desk waiting for you. 

Attached to it is a post-it that is very clearly from Melissa’s desk; it has the Eagles logo on it. I love the way you espresso yourself. -Mel

You roll your eyes at the cheesiness of her pun, and you know for a fact that she googled it before scrawling it down. You don’t throw the cup out though. Instead, you let it sit on your desk with the sticky still attached to it.

By the time lunch time comes around, you’re tempted to drink the coffee the second grade teacher bought you, but that would mean that you’re acknowledging her and her peace offering. So you sigh and take the mug that you always keep in your cabinet and make your way down to the staff lounge.

You start brewing a pot of coffee silently before allowing your eyes to wander over to wear Barbara is sitting. You quietly raise your mug with the silent offer of pouring her another cup. She nods gratefully.

Once the coffee is finished, you pour yourself a mug, fix it to your liking, and then take the pot over to Barb.

Melissa’s eyes linger on you, and you can practically feel them burning a hole in your body.

“Need a second cup?” your grade-level partner asks. Melissa perks up just slightly, praying that you’ll say yes.

You shake your head. “First,” you sigh softly as you sip your liquid gold. “Thought I’d be able to do without today, but I guess I was wrong.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Melissa’s face drop.

Your heart hurts for just a second. You know she is trying- but none of it is enough. It’s a little too late and you are done accepting the bare minimum. 

Melissa has struck out three times now, and with the last couple of school days closing in on her, she knows time is running out. She has one final trick up her sleeve, but it consumes most of her days and nights. It is her hail mary and she knows that it has to be done. She wants to replicate the soulmate tattoo that she shares with you in a way that is handmade and clearly from the heart. 

The tattoo is black and white, a simple outline of a sea turtle, giving her the freedom for any color of yarn. She debates going traditional greens and browns, but she wants this to scream you. She pulls out a pastel yellow and a dark burgundy, smiling at the odd pairing. Your two favorite colors are on opposite sides of the spectrum, and yet it couldn't describe you better. Yellow... for the lighter parts of you- the smiles you give to your students, the laugh with a small snort at the end that fills the room, the reassurance you give your coworkers on a rough day. Burgundy... for the dark parts of you- the weight of the world you seem to carry on your shoulders, the flicker of doubt behind your eyes when you introduce something new to the kids, the sigh you release when you think no one is looking. But Melissa, she has noticed it all—the dark and the light. She sees the way that those two parts of you entangle together to create this beautiful, complex soul that you keep.

Her fingers are numb by the time she finishes crocheting it, her carpal tunnel is flaring up, and she considers finding the wrist brace that she still has around from the last particularly painful aching in her wrist.But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. The turtle is much larger than she expected it to be. It’s the size of her palm with a pastel yellow body and a burgundy shell. It turns out way cuter than she expected, and a smile spreads across her face. She attaches a note to the turtle: You're turtle-y awesome. Here is a teeny-tiny turtle that is always there whenever you need a little cheer. -Mel.

The next morning, she places it on your desk right in the center so you’ll see it as soon as you walk in. A part of Melissa wants to stay in your room if only to stop you from throwing this gift away. There is a part of her that will be crushed if you toss away all of her hard work. Okay, if she’s being honest, it will crush all of her. It takes everything to pull her away, but she walks across the hall back into the safe space of Barbara’s door. Barbara stands next to her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. There are no words spoken, but there doesn’t need to be. The only thing that matters is that Barbara is there for whatever is about to take place.

Melissa’s breath hitches as you finally enter your classroom, a coffee from Knockbox in your left hand as you hum the song that was on the radio softly. You stop at your desk, looking down at the turtle. A smile spreads across your face as you take the crochet trinket into your hands. Melissa squeezes Barb’s hand, an anxiety building in her throat as you lift it. She is positive that you are going to throw it away, but you only hold it to your chest. The redhead’s heart is soaring as she watches you hug the turtle. It lasts only for a second before you gently place it in your bag and then slide the bag underneath your desk. 

You know the turtle is from Melissa, the handwriting gave it away immediately, but you can’t throw this one away- not when turtles mean so much to you and the colors have been your favorite for years.

Melissa expects a thank you, an acknowledgement, anything. But you still ignore her. Anytime she is in the hallway, you walk away from her pretending not to hear her or even look in her direction. It is the same cold shoulder treatment, but it almost hurts even more because the turtle still sits in your bag. An acceptance and a denial all in one breath.

It’s later that day when you’re in your classroom on your own, your students away in music class, that Barbara walks into your room to finish up the final touches on the little buckets you’ll give to your students on the last day. She can’t help but notice that, while she knows there are small little turtle erasers for your students, there is also an unexpected addition. Poking out of each bucket, big brown eyes land on little slips of paper reading: You’re turtle-y awesome. Don’t forget that! Love, Miss Y/N.

She clocks it immediately. That’s the silly little pun that Melissa had attached to your own crochet turtle. It’s that small little detail that makes Barbara realize you saw the note from Melissa- you know it’s Melissa that gave you the crocheted turtle.

“That’s cute,” she comments quietly as she settles down by your desk.

You smile softly. “I saw the pun a little earlier today. Thought it was cute.”

“Where’d you see it?” Barbara pries. Maybe she can get you to admit that you know it’s from her work wife. “I’ve been trying to think of better puns for my kids’ buckets.”

Instead of giving her exactly what she wants to hear, you shrug. “I don’t really remember.” Your eyes don’t meet Barb’s as you say that though. No. Instead, your eyes turn warm as you glance down at the bag tucked under your desk, and you look at the little gift from Melissa poking out of your bag.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @eliscannotdance @m6niacs @fragile-angell @infernumlilith @milfjuulpod @alwaysgoodnight

[schemmentisimpasours]

A Safe Space

After an incredibly long week, Melissa is there to catch you before you fall.

word count: 1.5k, warnings: none

taglist: @janeyseymour @schemmentisbaby @schemmentisimpasours @writerspirit @beccaweltonz @maisconkiana

While your job was to teach younger kids, the job and the students themselves tended to teach you a lot as well. It was a wonderful experience to constantly learn from your surroundings and a vast array of different people, and you held every lesson close to your heart. Especially the ones that helped you get through the daily stresses.

Over time, working at Abbott had weirdly helped managing stress. Being thrown into unforeseen scenarios has given you quite the skill set with problem solving. More often than not, it was easier than it used to be to handle difficult or frustrating situations.

But this week was different. This week felt daunting, exhausting, overwhelming—pretty much any negative adjective in the book. State tests were coming up, and you worked yourself to the bone to try and make sure every single student wasn't just prepared, but going to ace it.

The students felt the pressure, too. It was like everyone was on edge and somehow so busy and behind at the same time. Monday turned out to be the easiest day of the week, which says enough. Tuesday you could feel the cloud start to form, and by Wednesday it was pouring rain.

Melissa noticed by Monday afternoon you were feeling off. After being attached to your hip for at least a year and finally getting together, she's become almost scarily good at reading your emotions. Usually the two of you spend Mondays at your respective homes, attempting to get a jump start on the week and do a bit of work from home. Instead, at the end of the day, she was at your classroom door inviting you over.

“Hi, honey,” She said softly as she strolled into your room. Your eyes immediately found her, and you smiled for what felt like the first time all day. Outstretching your arms to pull her into a hug, you mumbled a “hi,” against the fabric of her shirt as you clung to her from your seat.

Melissa knew she made the right decision to invite you over as soon as you pulled her in, and she was happy to know her instincts were correct. “You want me to make you dinner tonight?” She asks, gently stroking your hair as she does so.

“It's Monday,” You reply, lifting your head up to meet her gaze. “We usually work after school on Mondays.”

“I know, but something tells me you need some Melissa time,” She answers lightheartedly. Once you drunkenly told her that your favorite part of the day was “Melissa time,” and she hasn't let it go since.

As much as you wanted to give in and go spend time with your girlfriend, it felt more responsible to continue working and preparing. With a sigh, you declined her offer. “I want to, but I need to keep working and I definitely won't be getting any work done at your place.”

She looks you over suspiciously before leaning down to give a kiss to your forehead and respond with a quiet ‘alright.’ You stayed in her embrace for a moment longer before waving her off to focus on work again. As Melissa left your classroom, she kept her eyes on you, a bit worried you were pushing too hard.

You were absolutely pushing too hard. You stayed late Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday. Thursday Melissa didn't let you stay any later than she did and insisted on driving you home.

“Sweetheart, I know you're stressed about tests next week,” She said quietly as soon as the two of you were out of the parking lot. One of her hands came off the steering wheel to grab yours and pull it out of the fist that had formed. You grumbled in response to her statement. She was right, but you didn't want to admit it.

“Don't go home and overwork yourself even more. I know you have my leftovers in the fridge so heat those up for dinner and get some rest tonight. And tomorrow you're coming to my house, I haven't been able to sit on the couch with you all week,” Melissa teased.

“I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to spend time with you, I just feel so unprepared,” You answered, turning to face her and watch her for the rest of the drive. She affectionately rubbed the back of your hand with her thumb trying to ease some of the tension she knows you're carrying.

“I know baby, that's why I haven't been showing up at your door,” She said lightheartedly, although both of you knew if she really wanted to she absolutely would. It was not an empty threat. “But tomorrow, you're mine.”

It's hard to not smile and look away bashfully at her comment, and you look forward to being with her all weekend. Although, you'd have to deal with the school antics before relaxing with your wonderful girl.

Friday comes in a blink, since Thursday night was spent trying to balance working and talking to Melissa on the phone, you couldn't believe it had been so long since you've spent time with her.

Of course, the students are just as excited as you are about the weekend. All the kids are rambunctious, full of energy and nowhere to put it. Seemingly everything goes wrong, from spilled projects in the morning, to fights at lunch, and finally, the rotten cherry on top—a student’s parent was hours late to pick them up.

You had to stay, as badly as you wanted to go see Melissa, you knew you had to stay. Leaving simply wasn't an option, so it wasn't until a bit after 6 pm you were finally leaving the walls of Abbott Elementary. Hunger, exhaustion, and irritation were all running through your body, and the drive to Melissa’s was filled with fighting back tears.

Not bothering to even knock, you opened the door to her house slowly, and shuffled in feeling the most defeated you have in a while.

“Sweetheart?” You heard softly from behind you. You locked the (many) locks on her door and greeted her back. “Hey, sorry I-”

Your words got caught in your throat as soon as you turned around. In the time Melissa had to herself, she had completely rearranged the living room. The couch was moved back enough to have the floor covered in blankets and pillows, making a perfect place to watch a movie. There was a bowl of your favorite snacks in the middle, and Melissa was already in her pajamas.

She walked up to you slowly, a shy smile creeping on her face. Her arms wrapped around your middle as she pulled you close to her, and back down to reality.

“Hi, my love,” She greeted you again, with a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Mel…” You responded, tears pooling in your eyes again. You wasted no time in holding her close, overwhelmed with the emotions from the day and now this. Except this…this was good.

It was obvious emotions were running high, so Melissa tightened her grip on you and shushed you softly. “I know, baby. I know…This week sucked, but it's over. You can relax now, go get changed so you can cling onto me all night,” She teased. It made you smile, and you couldn't resist the urge to kiss her.

“Thank you…” You mumbled against her lips, before turning to her bedroom to grab clothes. Because she knew you would beeline for her stuff, she already had your favorite Eagles hoodie and shorts on the bed. You wasted no time changing into them, smiling the whole time at how thoughtful all of this has been.

Back in the living room, Melissa was already on the mountain of pillows waiting for you, scrolling through the tv to find one of your favorite movies. You stood there behind her for a moment, taking in the beautiful scene in front of you.

“You're too good to me, you know that?” You asked quietly, coming around to sit right beside her. She must have gathered every pillow and blanket in the house, because this is hands down the most comfortable thing you've ever experienced.

Melissa chuckled next to you, shaking her head affectionately. “And you to me, sweetheart.” She puts on your favorite movie, leaning back to lay down and give you room to cuddle up to her.

You do, of course, turning on your side to wrap yourself around Melissa, finding comfort in the rhythm of her breathing with your head against her chest. For the first time all week, you feel at ease. The stress in your body slowly melts away, especially with the sensation of her fingers running up and down your side while she holds you close.

“I love you,” You mumble, angling your head slightly to look up at her. A smile forms on her face before she responds, softer than ever.

“I love you too, babe,” She replies, and seals it with another kiss.

[schemmentisimpasours]

Chapter 3. I love this series so much it hurts

The Paradox of Us- Part 3

Collab with @schemmentisimpasours

PART 1 PART 2

Summary: Melissa fucks up. She needs to fix this.

WC: ~2.7k

You try to escape the second-grade teacher’s grasp, but it’s impossible. Her fingernails practically dig into your skin as she wills you to stay in your place. Past memories push to the forefront of your brain, and you will them back as you struggle against her.

“What the fuck, Melissa?” you nearly yell out, eyes wide in shock. You’d be lying if you said her nails didn’t hurt right now, cutting into your forearm like a knife.

The woman holding onto you doesn’t say anything. She just continues to clutch onto you tightly. You aren’t even sure that she heard you at this point, her eyes clouded over.

You don’t realize how loudly you had exclaimed that expletive, but it’s enough to draw Barbara to the doorframe of your classroom.

“Ladies?” your grade level partner asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

Melissa still doesn’t utter a word, stuck in her own thoughts. Are you her soulmate?

“Get your friend to stop gripping me up,” you order, voice much more commanding than even you yourself have heard. Behind that brave voice though, your eyes convey a look that Barbara is sure will be burned into her brain for a long time. You look absolutely terrified. You continue to try to free yourself from her grasp, but Melissa’s hold stays firm as she grapples to come to terms with what she’s fairly certain she’s seen.

The second grade teacher doesn’t loosen her grip, not even the slightest bit. It quite literally takes Barbara prying her work wife off of you to get her to let go.

“Melissa!” the kindergarten teacher scolds. “It is one thing to treat her like a new hire, it’s another thing to insult her dyslexia- something that you yourself have- and insult her, but I thought that even you wouldn’t stoop so low as to become physical with a coworker of ours!”

You want to be free of Melissa’s grasp so bad that the words don’t even register in your brain. You feel the panic starting at the base of your throat, making it hard to breathe. If you aren’t out of this room soon, you know a full-fledged anxiety attack will happen. As her last nail finally falls free, you sprint for the door, not even looking back. 

“Barb,” Melissa chokes out.

“What in the world are you doing?” her work wife snaps. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Soulmate,” is the only word that Melissa gets out before she starts for the door.

Barbara stands in her path, blocking her from following you. “What did you just say?”

“She’s got my tattoo, Barb. My fucking soulmate tattoo,” Melissa huffs, and there is a mixture of sadness and hope in her voice. “My soulmate tattoo that nobody else in the world knows about.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in soulmates anymore. You practically laughed Janine and Gregory out of school when they revealed theirs. Actually... you did laugh at them and called them nerds.”

Melissa crosses her arms. Then, “I got… mixed feelings about soulmate tattoos. But you ain’t listening to me. I have to find Y/N. She’s got my tattoo.”

“No,” Barbara snaps. “You do not have any right to get to chase after her; not after all that you’ve put her through. She needs time- time to think and time away from you.”

The redhead, now hellbent on getting to you as her own words sink in, tries once again to get around her best friend. The kindergarten teacher does not allow that to happen.

“Barbara!” Melissa shouts as she points wildly in the direction that you ran off in.

The older woman just folds her arms over her chest, and it aches Melissa when she sees the sparkling rings donned on Barbara’s finger. Now, that’s all she wants too. She’s found you after all these years, and her best friend of all people is the one blocking her from you.

“Y/N does not understand that you just saw her tattoo- all she knows is that you just sunk your claws into her physically after a school year of sinking them into her mentally and emotionally- and after she had done something kind for you. If I were her, I’d be running too. You need to give her space, Melissa.”

Melissa sucks in a breath. “How badly do you think I just fucked up?”

“I won’t lie to you,” Barb sighs quietly, face now softening. “Pretty egregiously. But, I’ve come to know Y/N quite well this year... and she- she’s strong. She’ll come back around, and she’ll come back stronger. She won’t be quitting on us, no ma’am.”

As much as the redhead wants to run after you... apologize for everything and explain what she thinks she saw, if Barbara Howard is saying everything will be alright, well... it must be true.

Barbara is wrong, for once. For the first time in a very long time, Barbara Howard is wrong: a fact that haunts her and Melissa for days to come.

You run like hell to get out of that school, foregoing gathering your things for the night. The only thing you know is that you can not be in that vicinity with that... that woman for a moment longer than you have to be.

Silently thanking yourself for putting your car key on your school lanyard, you unlock your car and drop dramatically into the front seat. Only then does it register in your mind what just took place. And the dam breaks. Once again, you’ve found yourself in the clutches of someone wicked.

Although this time, you refuse to continue that cycle. No, not again.

Once you arrive home (and you’re hardly sure how you made it without crashing your car), you pull out your personal laptop and email your principal that you need to have a meeting with her tomorrow morning, non-negotiable. 

Across town, Melissa is sitting across from Gary, a thin line in her lips, “We need to break up.”

Gary looks up at her with a distrustful look, “You don’t mean that, Melly.”

Melissa's fingers clench at her least favorite nickname, “Stop calling me that.”

“Melly,” he continues, “I bought the ring and everything. This is about as good as we are going to get. You know that. We just need to get married. Then everything will fall into place.”

The rage is boiling in Melissa by the time she slams her fist down on the plate. It shatters underneath her palm, but she doesn’t realize it. 

She only glares at Gary. “I want more than this. I want a life from fairytale books. I want my soulmate.”

“You found him,” Gary mumbles as the realization dawns on him, looking from the broken plate to Melissa. “Your soulmate. You found him.”

“Her,” she whispers. “I found her.”

Gary looks even more distraught at the words. “You are going to throw all that we have for some woman?  I thought that you didn’t believe in soulmates.” 

“Please,” Melissa begs with a slight crack in her voice. “Just go.”

Gary finally admits defeat, gathering his things and heading for the door. He stops with his hand on the handle. “You are making a big mistake, Melly.”

“Stop fucking callin' me Melly!” She screams back as he shuts the door. 

She finally collapses back into her chair, noticing the blood rolling down her hand, “Shit. Fuck. Get it together, Schemmenti,” she scolds herself. “Anger is how you got yourself into this mess in the first place.”

She cleans her hand, wrapping it with a bandage before staring at herself in the bathroom mirror.

“You are going to get her. You can’t lose her after you just found her.”

You arrive the next morning in time to slide into Ava’s office for your meeting. You speak calmly with your hands nervously twisting together in your lap. Your fingers are white from how hard you are squeezing them, but it is the only way to keep your voice from cracking. For once, Ava doesn’t make jokes; she just listens and nods. She has come to respect your teaching style over the year, and the way you explain what happened, she knows that you are serious. 

“Are you sure you can’t come back next year, Y/N? I can meet with Melissa and make sure she stays away from you,” Ava asks gently.

“No, I can’t,” You choke on the words, “I would leave now, but I know that would put you in a horrible spot, and I refuse to leave my students without any sort of warning.”

Ava only nods, and you stand as the bell rings. You don’t acknowledge Barbara as you walk into your classroom with students already filing in, nor do you see the redhead staring at you from the end of the hall, desperate to grab your attention. You just want this day to be over - this whole school year to be over so you can get the hell out of here. 

You are absent from lunch, and your door is locked when Barbara tries it. She’s standing outside the door debating whether to ask Mr. Johnson to open it for her when Ava approaches. 

“You need to get your redhead under control. She is running off my teachers, and I actually liked this one,” Ava says, folding her arms. She lifts her brow and gives the kindergarten teacher a look that dares her to challenge that statement.

“Y/N is quitting?” Barb asks, but she already knows the answer. She saw the fear that was laced in your eyes as Melissa held onto you the previous day. The past trauma that was buried deep underneath your unspoken words.

“She’s finishing this school year and leaving. I don’t think I can change her mind. I don’t know anything about the girl, but you do,” Ava suggests.

Just then, the bell rings for the end of lunch, and you open the door, quite literally almost running into the two women. You step back, your eyes still red with the tears that you had just finished shedding. Without a word, you step around Barbara and head for the lunch room. She runs to catch up to you. She doesn’t grab you, just falls into step beside you.

“You’re leaving me?” She asks, betraying more hurt than she initially planned.

  You stop for a moment, looking up at your mentor, “I can’t stay, Barbara. I have been harassed verbally and mentally all year, and then last night… that was the final straw. I have been there, done that, and I refuse to let myself fall into another pattern.”

You see the realization dawn on your grade level partner’s face at what that means. You’ve been in a not so great relationship before. Back at the beginning of the school year, when you said you don’t date anymore... that’s why.

“And I- I’m not leaving you,” you whisper as you take her hand gently. “I want nothing more than to continue working with you. This year, aside from...” you trail off. “...It’s been one of the best years of teaching that I’ve had.”

“I don’t think you should go,” Barbara tells you earnestly. “You belong here at Abbott.” You belong here with Melissa, not that you know it yet.

“I’ve already spoken with Ava,” you sigh quietly. “I’m finishing out this year, and then... I’ll figure something else out, I guess. I need to put myself first for once in my life.”

Barbara goes to say more, but time is up. Your children gather around you with smiles on their faces, eagerly awaiting the journey back to the classroom. Her own students line up with her, and she has to turn away to lead them quickly. She doesn’t want you to see the tears that she’s about to shed for you.

“Y/N,” you hear Melissa’s voice call after you as you lead your own students out right behind Barbara. You don’t so much as turn around.

At the end of the day, Melissa tries to seek you out again, but she’s quick to realize that you’ve already slipped out for the night. Your car is gone from the parking lot.

But Barbara is still here. She’s sitting quietly, resigned- in her rocking chair as she seems to be in deep thought.

“Barb?” the redhead steps into the room cautiously. “You good, hun?”

Barbara internally debates telling Melissa what she’s figured out today. She knows that it will hurt Melissa, but she has never been one to mince the truth- especially when it comes to her best friend. Letting out a long sigh, she finally looks at Melissa. Those emerald green eyes are laced with concern for her best friend. Brown eyes look beyond heartbroken. 

“Y/N is leaving after this school year,” is what she finally settles on saying, voice cracking on the last few words. 

Melissa’s heart sinks and there is a sadness that dulls her usually sparkling eyes. “It's because of me, isn’t it?”

“It would seem so,” Barbara responds bluntly, and the redhead nearly bursts into tears at the words.

“She can’t leave,” Melissa chokes out, “She is one of the best teachers here and she… she…she just can’t leave.” 

Barbara looks at her friend, and her heart should sink for how distraught she is, but there is a mixture of emotions vibrating under her skin. She is upset for Melissa, but she is also angry- angry that her work wife didn’t listen to the numerous times she told her to stop. Barbara feels heartbroken for you: wonderful, sweet, selfless, you having to go through what you’ve alluded to in the past. Melissa reads her friend's emotions well and only sighs.

“I messed up Barb. I know that,” She runs a hand through her hair, “I don’t deserve Y/N, not even a little bit, but I want to try and make it right. I- I have to make it right.” She’s my soulmate. I know that now.

Melissa never cries, especially not in front of people, but this time it is different. It comes before she realizes it, her eyes flutter close, and tears fall without warning. It’s as if she was a small little town, and a wave from a tsunami washes over her. She doesn’t move to brush them away, just lets them roll down her cheeks and fall to her chest. She deserves this pain- this hollow ache in her heart that is starting to take over. She is the cause of her own pain at this point. A part of her realizes that maybe she’s always caused her own pain.

“Girlfriend,” Barbara whispers gently, standing in front of the redhead. “You deserve the world and then some.” It’s as if the kindergarten teacher could hear her best friend’s inner monologue.

“My soulmate won’t even talk to me Barb. She thinks I fuckin hate her, which I mean… I’ve given her no reason to believe that I don’t,” Melissa hiccups. “How do I fix this? Can I even fix this? Fuck.”

“We will figure it out,” Barbara soothes, wrapping her arms around her best friend.

“How can you be so sure?” the redhead croaks out. “You thought she wouldn’t leave just yesterday.”

“And I suppose that even I am wrong sometimes,” the kindergarten teacher sighs. “But I do know that when Barbara Howard wants something, Barbara Howard gets that something. And right now, Barbara Howard wants to not lose the best grade-level partner she’s ever had, and she wants her best friend to finally find her happiness that she deserves.”

“I don’t deserve happiness, and I ain’t got the slightest clue what the hell I could even do to begin to make up for all of the shit I put this ki- Y/N through.”

“Well, for starters,” Barbara smirks. “Perhaps you should stop calling her ‘kid’. She is your soulmate afterall. And luckily for you, I’ve gotten to know her quite well this past school year and can help you figure out ways to begin to attempt to make up for it.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @eliscannotdance @m6niacs @fragile-angell @infernumlilith @milfjuulpod

[schemmentisimpasours]

Another addition to the masterlist

The Paradox of Us Masterlist

Summary: Soulmates. Everyone has one. Or at least they hope they do but after years of looking Melissa has given up. She doesn't need a soulmate. Doesn't want one. Right?

Collab with: @janeyseymour (One of us was tipsy and one sleep deprived. Who was who? The world may never know).

Also, what happens when you mix a mostly angst writer with a mostly fluff writer? You will just have to wait and see.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (Incoming)

Chapter 5 (WIP)