#I don't know if I have the mental capacity to go there today

[sassenach082]

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#y'all my work life just imploded even further #i have a coworker who is C L U E L E S S #i just want to cry #ugh #just needed to vent #maybe i need to go back to journaling #today was just the worst #i don't know why i expected something different #my expectations for this guy were ZERO and i was still dissapointed #didn't have to be #but yet #i was #fuck #that's really the best i can do #ONE DAY I WILL HAVE THE MENTAL CAPACITY TO WRITE #I'M SORRY ;-;

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different. 

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone. 

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet. 

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there. 

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie. 

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now? 

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away. 

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory. 

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could. 

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind. 

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of  telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

 “Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes. 

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it. 

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant. 

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together.  We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company. 

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor. 

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

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[monicahar]

drunken nights.

when they get a bit too wasted...

characters; cyno, scaramouche, tighnari, kazuha, nilou, shenhe

; gn! reader, alcohol/drinking, established relationship, slight nsw themes of scara's hehe, this is so unnecessarily long

if you somehow manage to get this man to drink away his burdens, CYNO would be the goofy type of drunk. usually, he'd keep his jokes to himself, waiting for an opportunity to insert them in a conversation. but when he's utterly besotted, that boundary completely disappears into thin air. think of it as a barn of chickens, once his mental capacity is impaired due to drinking, all those chickens escape, about to enforce chaos. you and your friends now have to listen to his horrible jokes throughout the entire night, even if they have no correlation to the topic of the conversation whatsoever. it also doesn't help a bit that he contagiously cackles at all of his jokes. his soar laughing fills the entire table with a sense of melancholy. even after you both get home, he's still cracking horrible jokes whilst you're trying to shove water down his throat.

“hey, hey, [name], do you know why I love you so dearly?” you stay quiet, minding your own business until he suddenly wraps his arms around you—earning a small yelp as he breaths down your ear. “because you're perfect.” “cyno...that's not even funny...” you struggle to surpress the incoming blush. “it's not a joke, you walnut...”

if SCARAMOUCHE ever entertains the thought of getting drunk to momentarily forget his burdens, he'd probably only want to do it alone with you. which is why you're both now in his inazuman-styled bedroom, cups of sake in each other's hands as you both quietly talk just about anything, throwing in some insults here and there because we know how he is. i see him becoming almost becoming a completely different person when drunk. he's more chill, and is definitely a lot more talkative than when he's sober. “i saw a cat today, it reminded me of you.” you lean onto his shoulder, feeling the headache already. “was it mean to you?” he throws a slight glare. “bingo. it was cute though. much like you.” he doesn't have the heart to get mad at the moment. not because he's drunk or anything, but because of how grazing hot your skin is against his. both of your kimonos are loosened due to the growing heat of the room.

he catches a glimpse of your bare shoulders and collarbone, a canvas ready for him to paint with...ahem. suddenly feeling a carnal desire burn inside him, he quickly shifts his position, looking more carefully at your flushed face, dilated eyes as you breath heavily. “kuni, is it just me or is it getting warmer—” you're unable to finish talking as he crashes his lips onto yours. good night ;)

TIGHNARI would be too refined and busy for such activities, so i will use his status as a researcher to my advantage. he's come across a wide variety of plants, but one of your favourite discoveries of his would be that one particular mushroom that enacts alcoholic symptoms upon a living being that consumes it. you both come across it during an expedition, and unsurprisingly—he wants to see its capabilities, ordering you to record it's effects, and to bring him back to ghandarva ville if it turns out serious. he chews on it, slightly grimacing at the taste before he says he feels nothing. making sure to take a sample, you both trudge home just in case it has delayed effects. his guess was right it seems, much to his dismay. you remind yourself to record the effects as he had instructed, but...he's so cute! you can't help but coo at his flushed state, clinging onto your waist as he babbles about nonsense.

“okay, tighnari...i have to write your paper, let go of me for a bit...!” you freeze when he slightly growls in annoyance, tightening his grip on you. his tail wags when you start rubbing his ears, “no...forget it for now...it's just some alcoholic shroom anyways...” “it could turn out more serious, you know?” “don't care...just stay close to me.” he says that, but the very next morning—he's now scolding you for getting distracted from your objective. you had it coming.

we've all seen it. the legendary drunk KAZUHA during the golden archipelago event. he's canonly a slurring mess when drunk, much contrary to his usual poetic self. he leans onto your shoulder, hugging your arm as he coos at how “beauti'fuuul” you are. you can hear venti snicker in the background, earning him a glare from you. he raises his hands in defense and winks, "ehe, he's really intoxicated, isn't he? not just by the beverage, but by you as well." "how romantic!” xinyan cheers. deliberately returning your gaze towards your drunked lover. “kazu, it's time to go home. stand up for me will you?” you attempt to pull him up, but you're surprised to see that he immediately shoots up from his seat, swaying a bit from his dizziness. “hehe, anything'fo my super amaziiiing luvwer...” it reliefs you to know that he still recognises you despite not being fully rational at the moment. arriving at the inn you both rented a night for, you clean him up before plopping down on the bed, exhaustion taking over your sense as he suddenly crawls over you.

“kazu, you need to sleep early. we have a trip tomorrow...” he pays no mind to what you said, leaving butterfly kisses on your neck as you tremble under his hold. this is escalating a bit too fast, you think as you slightly lean back. “mm, i'll sleep, dun' worry...” he hums, muttering an apology onto your neck before snoozing off. what a handful.

as a renowned dancer in sumeru, NILOU is often invited to many parties or celebrations. after dancing for her audience, she'd of course get invited by people to their tables, in hopes of getting to compliment her for the amazing performance. she never drinks alcohol though, choosing to drink juice to maintain her composure and image. except for that one time you were getting forced to drink, but obviously didn't want to so she drank a cup in your stead, earning howls of laughter from your fellow buddies. “how bold of you.” you tease her, causing her to blush. “it's just—you seemed uncomfortable so...” “you're lightweight though. will you be alright? sorry in advance if this gets you in trouble with your manager.” ahhh. :D she completely forgot about that part. raising a brow at the way her expression freezes, you giggle at her usual airhead self. “don't worry. i'll explain it to them in person.” you hold her hand as she starts to sway, her eyes staring to close from the headache that's already growing. that cup of sake was probably a bit too much for what she can handle.

as she's currently freed from her subconscious need of containing her image, she's now smiling like an idiot as she leans onto you, hugging your waist as she nuzzles her face onto your neck. her thoughts are eventually blurred as she starts doze off, only thinking about the way you smell very nice.

someone who you'd never expect to be a fun drinking buddy would be SHENHE. the line that her red seal creates between her soul and her emotions are blurred when she gets intoxicated. choosing to get drunk with you would mean she's intentionally dropping her guard around you, wanting you to see a more vulnerable side of hers. "i often wondered if me having an adeptus's diet would affect how alcohol would take effect in my body. turns out, no...this drink is a dangerous weapon.” you snort at the seriousness in her tone, “yes, very dangerous indeed.” she perks up all of sudden. “your laugh just now.” you blink at her statement. what was wrong with your laugh? you tilt your head, beckoning her to continue. “it was very...cute...? is that how you use that word?” “you only found it cute just now?” you say with a false expression of hurt. “i never thought you to be so cruel with me shenhe...” she tilts her head much like you did earlier. “i've always thought it was 'cute'. i have to constantly tell you?”

you slightly pout, “yes. you do. i want affirmation from you too, you know.” and with that, she suddenly stands up, leaving her cup at her side of the table as she makes her way towards you, abruptly leaning down as she awkwardly cradles your face with her hand. you can smell the alcohol from her lips as your breath hitches. “[name], you're cute.” the words come out more stiff than she intended, but you still found it heartwarming nonetheless.

#tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #nilou x reader #shenhe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #har❗fiction

[icallhimjoey]

Define Close

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot

Author’s note: this sort of came about after taking small little bits from several requests that i combined and then shaped into what i wanted for myself, and for a minute, i thought 'what if i don't make this one extremely self-indulgent for once' but then... why the fuck wouldn't i? so...

Wordcount: 2.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

One of those days.

You weren’t going to wait until you got home to ask Joe what pizza toppings he wanted. Not today. So you texted,

“peperoni or chicken?”

And it took just a few seconds for Joe to open Whatsapp and to reply.

“those my only two options?”

You didn’t have the mental capacity to even think of any other pizza toppings, let alone get into some banter over text with your flatmate.

“joe”

There were a million ways for Joe to have read that, to have interpreted that. Yet, he got the tone of it just right.

“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it”

No playing. Just quick solutions to problems of which Joe didn’t even really know what they were yet. Then another text from him followed, asking you the question you’d just sent him.

“peperoni or chicken?”

“chicken”

You remembered exactly when this pizza tradition started. Could pinpoint the exact date, time, and place.

“no i was wrong.” “peperoni”

The first time you and Joe shared a pizza as new flatmates, was when you’d gotten home one morning, still very obviously in the outfit you’d left in the night before. Joe had been cooking up some breakfast in the kitchen and had his jokes ready, already grinning to himself when he hadn’t even seen you yet.

“Well, well, well,” he called over his shoulder as you took a moment by the front door to just... breathe. You would’ve tried gathering yourself, but there wasn’t much to gather.

“I know you said the plan was to go out and celebrate Friday, but you didn’t mention anything about Saturday morning,” you could hear the joy in Joe’s voice, all chipper and lively. He’d very clearly had a great night’s sleep, unlike you.

Joe heard footsteps, and when they stopped in the doorway, he turned his head to look. Spatula still in hand, eggs just about ready in the pan in front of him.

“Look at what the cat’s drag–...” the comment died on his tongue. “Jesus, are you all right?”

Joe had expected a tired, sloppy girl to have walked in. One with messy hair, eye make-up all smudged and sort of drunk a little, still.

He’d been right.

That was exactly what he was looking at, which should objectively be funny. Hence the smile that still lingered on his face as his brow slowly furrowed in confusion.

“You look like the inside of a shoe,”

Joe tried his hand at humour, but it fell completely flat.

What he hadn’t anticipated, was for his flatmate to look quite so sad in reaction to his comments. So very drained of life. You’d obviously been crying and looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.

For a moment you just stood in that doorway, looked a little dazed because, um, why were you going into your shared living space again?

You needed your bed.

Without answering Joe, and without even really acknowledging him at all, you took a shuddering breath and slowly turned back around, only to ignore Joe’s question and disappear into the hallway.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Joe quickly turned the hob off and rounded the island to go after you. He was too late though, stepping into the hallway just as your bedroom door closed behind you. The immediate guilt that followed his poking-fun carried him over to stand in front of it, just enough self-restraint left to not just open your door and walk in right after you.

You didn’t seem like you needed to be pissed off any more than you already were.

From just outside of your bedroom door, you heard a very faint knock, followed by Joe’s voice, asking if you were all right once more.

“Did– did something happen? What’s going on?”

All you managed to do was sigh, just loud enough for Joe to catch it.

“What happened?”

But you didn’t want to get into it.

“Do you– hey,” Joe called your name, waited for a second, in case you wanted to answer him, but then when you didn’t, he followed it up with, “Do you want some breakfast?”

And honestly, breakfast sounded nice. But so did burying yourself into your duvet for a few days, where no one would try to look you in the eye, and where no one would try to make you talk. Were you going to listen to your rumbling stomach that wanted some food, or to the rest of your body that just wanted to be horizontal?

“Some scrambled eggs? Piece of toast?” 

You milled it over in your mind.

“Or, I could make you something else? You want some yoghurt? With some berries in?”

Joe tried. Was actively trying. But it didn’t seem to work, just didn’t seem to do the trick. It stayed silent on your side of the door.

“Some pizza?”

And it was meant as a careful joke. A hopeful small little thing to at least lift the mood, if nothing else. If you were even still listening to him at all, that was.

He was about to tell you that he’d be in the kitchen if you needed anything, that you could just let him know. No worries if not. But then he heard rustling. Stumbling footsteps, followed by your bedroom door slowly opening.

“Hey,” Joe cocked his head to the side at the sight of you, his eyes all soft, forehead crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry.”

You looked right past him.

“What... what kind of pizza?”

You focused on the important things instead. Didn’t really care to acknowledge Joe’s apology.

“Well,” Joe tried to hide his smile as he looked down at his feet before stepping aside and holding an arm out, inviting you to walk ahead of him, making your way back into the living area. “I think there’s a few to choose from in the freezer.”

You’d shared a pizza that morning, you sat at one of the stools of the kitchen island, and Joe stood on the side. He hadn’t asked you any questions then, but instead had just tried his hand at light conversation until suddenly, halfway through a slice, you’d started sobbing.

And it wasn’t like you and Joe had never hugged before.

But you’d never been hugged by him like that before.

Where Joe instantly dropped his food and stepped closer to fold arms around you. Where Joe got an arm around your head to press your face into his chest whilst the other curled down around your shoulders that pressed your chest into his stomach. Where he decided he wasn’t going to be the one to pull back first, and so you’d just embraced like that for over half an hour.

He hadn’t asked you any questions.

Not when you cried.

Not when you’d stuttered through breaths as you tried to recollect yourself after.

Not when you eventually pulled back and reached for another bite of now-cold pizza.

Not when you then silently frowned at the hardened cheese and softly sighed to yourself.

Not when you did eventually retreat back into your room but came out just a minute later and asked if Joe had any plans that day.

Even if he did have plans, Joe knew that he’d cancel them all for you.

“Want to rot on the sofa with me? Watch films all day?”

And you hadn’t meant to fall asleep all sagged into his side then, but you had. And Joe had played with the ends of your hair until the warmth and comfort had pulled him into a nap as well.

You’d never talked about what had happened then, why you had been so sad, because you didn’t need to. It was nice that Joe hadn’t asked for you to explain why you’d cried, and instead had just comforted you until you managed to smile for him again.

Joe thought that maybe, if you wanted to tell him, one day you would. But he didn’t need to know why his flatmate was sad when she was. He was happy just being there to help and fix it.

And now, here you were. Two flatmates who shared a tradition of having pizza and watching a film when you’d had a bad day.

And today had just been... long. Hard. Frustrating. You didn’t want to get into all the things that had nearly pushed you over the edge, and you were glad that you didn’t need to.

Joe didn’t ask questions. Never did.

Just went to get you the peperoni pizza you’d asked for.

Would cuddle you on the sofa all night if that was what you wanted.

It was what he wanted, anyway.

He was well aware that none of that was normal though.

You were flatmates.

If Joe referred to you in conversation with a friend, with a family member, or even with a stranger, you were his flatmate. The girl that he shared the living area of his flat with. The pantry, the fridge and the freezer. The coat closet by the door. A letterbox downstairs by the entrance.

Flatmates.

But if someone were to ask you if you and your flatmate were friends too, you’d tell them yes of course. You shared dinner more often than not. If you had friends ‘round, Joe would hang out too. And vice versa.

Normal.

Just normal friendly flatmates that also knew each other’s parents by their first names, but you know, those things sort of just came with sharing a living space together, right?

And no one ever really thought there was more to you and Joe, anyway.

Why would they even assume?

You dated other people. Went on regular dates with different men. Other guys. Would even sometimes sit and watch a film with someone, and Joe would join you for a little while. Have casual conversation with whoever you’d invited over.

Normal.

What wasn’t so normal was that the second it would just be you and Joe, you wouldn’t hesitate to touch if you wanted to touch. Wouldn’t hesitate to find him, wherever he’d be, and sling your arms around his stomach from behind, just to hold him for a minute. Would wait to get comfortable on the sofa until Joe would join you there and you’d wait for his arm to find its way around you before you’d settle in.

You never talked about it.

It was just what it was like. You were close. The affection was just a natural thing between the two of you. It didn’t need any words. Any explaining.

But Joe knew you both understood that this could be interpreted very differently through other people’s eyes.

It’s why you kept referring to each other as flatmates, and why you weren’t like that in front of other people.

Which was fine.

You lived together.

There was plenty of time without other people there.

When you walked into your flat that evening, the promise of a shared peperoni pizza combined with the contrasting warmth that immediately made you feel uncomfortably hot in your coat, was nearly enough to bring you to tears.

“Joe?”

“Hey, bad news,”

Oh no.

Joe appeared at the other end of the hallway.

“They didn’t have any Sprite left, so I got you a Fanta.”

You let your shoulders drop and let your head fall to the side in relief. That was hardly bad news. You didn’t love Fanta, but the bad news revealed Joe had gone out to get a pizza instead of throwing a frozen one into the oven.

“Fanta’s fine.” You smiled. Joe easily copied it.

“Good, okay. Now,” Joe continued, suddenly his face all serious again as you took your coat off and toed your shoes off. “I know that last time, I got to pick a film, so technically it is your turn... but, I’ve already chosen something to watch, and I did go out to get us the largest peperoni pizza London has to offer, so...”

You stilled and gave an exaggerated sigh, all mock frustration, because you honestly didn’t give a shit. If anything, it was nice that Joe had made the choice for you, seeing as you didn’t really have the mental capacity for any decisions right now. If it had been left up to you, you’d hav been scrolling through Netflix for at least half an hour until settling just to watch some celebrity panel shows on Channel 4.

“No sprite and I don’t get to choose the film?”

“I’m sorry,” Joe was trying stupidly hard to hide a smile.

You blinked at him a second.

“You’re not sorry.”

“No I’m not. You made me go out and it’s fucking freezing outside today.”

You made your way over to your bedroom to get changed, and just before disappearing, you said, “Cool way of letting me know you’ve not left the flat all day.”

Like Joe’s hair hadn’t told you as much already.

You wished your job would let you work from home too. Although, with Joe spending weird stretches of time just sitting around and reading, you didn’t think you’d get much work done. Would probably be a bit weird if you logged onto a zoom meeting from your spot on the sofa, half of Joe in frame.

“I did leave the flat! I just said!” Joe argued, leaving you to get into a more comfortable outfit.

You grinned to yourself.

Joe was an idiot.

In an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, you joined Joe in the living room where you found a large pizza box on the coffee table, two cans of Sprite next to it.

Sprite.

“Surprise.”

Joe had lied.

Then you looked at the TV screen, paused at the title of the film Joe’d chosen and, fuck all the way off, did he want you to cry?

“I know it’s not your genre...”

It was. It absolutely was. It wasn’t Joe’s genre, though. “But I promise you’ll like it.”

You didn’t know if you wanted to hook an elbow to his jaw or squeeze your nails into his cheeks, but you needed to do something to get this surge of emotion out.

You opted for swearing at him instead of physical violence.

“I fucking hate you so much right now,”

“Yea?” Joe sat down, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the throw blanket. “Come hate me over here.”

And so you did.

Sat down next to Joe, thigh to thigh, and let him sort the blanket so it covered the both of you before leaning over to grab the pizza box.

The heat coming from the pizza quickly found your legs through the blanket and through your joggers. It was a stark comparison to how cold your fingers still felt from your trek home.

You rubbed them together as Joe opened the pizza box and, shit, that looked good.

“You cold?”

“Just my fingers,” you replied, already putting both hands to use, ripping the pieces of crust that hadn’t been cut properly and lifting a slice out of the box.

Joe did the same, and then when he saw one of your hands lower down, he was quick to grab it, encasing your cold fingers into his large palm.

The act of being upset with him for being nice faltered, and you smiled at Joe as he smugly grinned whilst he chewed.

See, had someone else been there with you, you’d have gotten comments. If not jokes, at least you knew you would’ve gotten some judging looks. Some questions later, about what was going on between the two of you?

Nothing was going on between the two of you.

Just warm cuddles and comforting touches, which was fine when it was just you and Joe.

So what if Joe held your hand whilst you ate pizza and watched a romantic comedy together?

So what if a piece of peperoni was about to slide and fall to your chest, but Joe saw and got it just in time, and you thought he was going to pop it into his own mouth, but then instead he held it up in front of you and waited till you ate it from his fingers?

So what if, after finishing the pizza, Joe planted his feet on the coffee table and pulled you into his side a little? Grabbed your arm to lay over his stomach? Ended up with both arms slung around, his own fingers locking on your back to keep you in place whilst you watched actors older than the both of you act as if they were in their early twenties still?

Life was just more comfortable when it was filled with good snuggles, you and Joe both agreed.

But you never talked about it.

You were just close.

No questions asked.

Flatmates. Friends. Just, close.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey

[forthelostones]

𝚙𝚝.𝚝𝚠𝚘 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby (eventually), mini slowburn, suggestive language, jealousy, nora & mel & ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parental death, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, waaaa thanks for all the follows! i appreciate you all sooo soo much. this is something i just thought of idk, maybe a series who knows! i am thinking abt putting this on ao3 too!

(no y/n)

wc: 4.3k

pt one.

Alarm. Dress. Meet Abby. Go. Today was a lecture day and although long, at least you got to sleep in a little this morning. The only thing is Abby is always locked in and there’s no way to get her out of that headspace. She doesn’t take unnecessary breaks or doodles, she is virtually a perfect student. But you sit beside her scrolling through your notes, unamused. 

Abby’s head is downwards, with her braid falling over her shoulder, focused on the presentation. Her hand moves quickly as she writes all the details down, while you type mindlessly. You notice how her bulging veins dress her hand peak-a-booing out of her cardigan. The way she gripped her pen enhanced the greenish threads under her skin as she drew diagrams and large title cards. Why was everything about her attractive, you thought. Mel was sitting next to you with her laptop open, scrolling on Pinterest, mumbling. Her clique of girls speak in what they think is a hushed whisper, but it's just a poor attempt. You feel your lips forming to sh them. 

“Hey.” Abby snaps, holding direct eye contact with Mel. 

Mel looks over her screen with disgust, like she just wished death upon her. But that lasts only a minute before they start up again and Abby sighs, slamming her pen on the desk which causes your professor to turn and look in your direction. 

“Ladies, let’s focus.” She said. 

At the 30-minute break, Abby stormed out of the lecture hall and you followed behind like a lost puppy. She stood in the hallway with her hands above her head, inhaling and exhaling with her eyes closed, counting silently. She rolled her shoulders back and finally looked to find your eyes. Which calmed her for a moment — seeing you there.  

“Y’know what pisses me off about that Mel?” 

She said her name like a swear word.

You were taken aback at the anger bubbling inside of her. Her calm demeanor was all you knew, she avoided conflict, never raised her voice but seeing her like this pang in your heart unlike anything else. 

“She only acts like that because she doesn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend what’s going on. Not everyone can just throw their life away, some of us actually have to work for what we want.”

Her eyes were wide, her fists curled, and her lips tight. You walk over to her and just wrap your arms around her. She was reluctant to reciprocate but eventually did — give into you, and fell into your arms. Her hands linger on your lower back, tugging you.

“They don't understand.” Her voice cracked. 

You knew what this was about, it was about her dad. You saw how reluctant she was to go into detail about him last night. She just changed the subject. You didn’t know what illness he passed away from, if any, she wouldn’t go that far. 

“Abby, I know. They don’t.” You reply pulling away sooner than you both would like. 

She composed herself and peered at your welcoming eyes and she suddenly forgot where she stood. In the middle of a high-traffic hallway, filled with the rustling of scrubs. Her hands came up onto your shoulders and she nodded her head. “You’re right and I can’t fault them for that, can I?” 

The rest of class was incredibly quiet. 

As you both stood at the entryway of your apartments you felt like you wanted to spend more time with her. Just because. You slid your key into the lock and swatted the thoughts away. “Dummy?” She asked.

“There’s a party today, uh, some sorority thing. I don’t really know anyone else going—“

“Yes, yea absolutely.”  

You smiled at her and then closed your door with excitement, maybe too much? 

Abby wasn’t sure what came over her, after overhearing the other nursing students she thought it would be nice to go out, since it had been three years. That text from Nora was burning her phone, flames encased it so brightly that she didn’t go on her phone all day.

After pouring a glass of wine and stripping to get in the shower she stood in the mirror examining her body. Checking her back out, quads, and glutes… she didn’t know why but looking at herself was so invigorating. She pulled her phone out and snapped a photo, forearm covering her chest, gently flexing. Her eyes brightly admired her frame and debated sending it to Nora. She had never taken a nude photo before let alone sent it to someone. She shook her head reaching into the shower, turning the knob, and throwing that thought aside. 

When she was showering all she could think about was your embrace earlier. It was unusual for her to be held — well have human contact at all. She wasn’t one for physical touch, but in that moment she yearned for more. She wet her hair and paused, rekindling the memory in her mind, how you smelled, your warmth, and how she felt — safe. 

She didn’t want to admit it to you this morning but she stayed up last night after you left. She replayed the quick events as she rinsed her hair, visualizing sections of your face behind her eyelids. 

As she was on her last full body rinse, there you stood on the other side of her apartment door knocking, slightly startling her. 

“Wait!” She hollered from the bathroom. 

Quickly wrapping herself in her white towel, wet feet trailing to the front door, she peeped out the hole to see you nervously awaiting her arrival. “Hi, oh shit. You were showering, right. Sorry. I just, I should’ve texted you, but if you wanted to get ready at mine you can.” You said casually. 

Abby felt your eyes flick toward her collarbones, making her pull the towel taut. 

“Yea perfect, leave the door open for me ‘kay?” 

After closing the door Abby became self-conscious instantly. Her sopping hair clinging to her wet face made her feel strange, especially with your lingering eyes. Abby wasn’t the type to rush but she wanted to be closer to you as quickly as she could. She blew her hair dry, finished her wine, and got dressed in twenty minutes, already walking through your front door. 

She had never actually ever seen your apartment in its full glory. It was cluttered by her standards, decorated by yours. “Hey Dummy, it’s me.” 

You peered your head out of your bedroom and welcomed her to help you pick an outfit. You sighed at Abby fully dressed, all ready to go, and completely misunderstanding the concept of getting ready together. 

“So, I was thinking of this combo.” You say, breaking her wandering eyes from your unpolished bedroom. 

Abby looked at your dress, long sleeve, black number, comfortable and easy. She imagined you in it and it made her tense as her mind began to wonder. 

“That’s pretty.” She replied eagerly. 

You were in your silk robe that wasn’t very well at hiding what was underneath, she became flush and attempted to focus on the stitching on the dress or something. But when you bent over to reach for the next item you laid out on your bed she fought herself to look away. Your skin was freshly moisturized and the scent filled her nose so instinctively making her nostrils twitch with pleasure.

“I think so too, but I also have this. I used to wear this a lot, I don’t know. Should I try them on for you?”

You showed her a dark brown number with a swoop back, flowing out at the knee in a wing-like manner. She thought about how high up the hem of the bottom was and blinked her eyes vigorously, unsure if this was a dream or not. She said no words but just nodded her head. 

“Okay, let me change, there’s tequila on top of the fridge.” 

Abby pulled her hands into her carpenter-style jacket and retrieved the liquor. She took the bottle, no glasses, and waited for you at your dining table. Her forehead was misty with beads of sweat looking for an escape, she felt sheepish at how turned on she got from looking at your body. What the fuck is wrong with me, she thought. 

You walk out in the black dress and look at her eyelids lifting at the fabric hugging your body. She brings her hand to her chin as you do a spin for her and then pose. Abby watches you walk towards her in what she swears is slow motion, and straightens her back as her eyes drift up and down your body. She looked completely hypnotized by you. You reach for the bottle, removing the cap in a swift motion and then bringing it to your lips. Abby latched onto each of your movements. In her comatose state, she made it a mission to let it be known at that moment that she was yours. Her thick eyelashes hung heavy as she watched you move your hand to her chin, lifting it and pouring a shot directly into her throat. As her lips came to a close you swiped her chin. 

“I like this dress a lot.” She said, now having an excuse to peer down at your body. 

“Me too,” you smiled. “Let me show you the brown one.” 

She couldn’t refuse the pleasure of watching your ass switch as you went to change. She took another pour into her mouth and shook off the heat coming from her core and throat. You threw your arms up and spun again. 

“I like both but the black one, it’s— it’s really pretty.” 

“So, I’ll wear that one then.”

Abby felt a light bubble form in her stomach from your willingness to listen to her and do as you’re told. She watched your hips sway into your bedroom, just moments after she realized her jaw was set like a rock, wide open, admiring your ass. 

Abby held all the doors open for you as you exited the apartment building, which rendered small thank you’s from under your breath. The sound of your boots clattering against the pavement filled both, you and Abby’s ears, prying at the silence in the air. She looked exceptionally clean tonight, most days you don’t see her outside of her uniform but today, you were really mesmerized by her. You questioned if it was the drinks you consumed or just her sweet scent enticing you. 

Her black boxy tee was blanketed in a woody sage perfume, just nipping above the hem of her dark-washed denim that was slouching below her hips, exposing the skin around her navel.

“I haven’t been to a party in a while,” she sighed. 

You smiled at hearing her voice within the stillness. 

“Me too, I’m glad you invited me.” You reply. She peers over to you with a bewitching smirk that makes your cheeks hot. 

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have wanted to go with anyone else.” She says matter-of-factly, not knowing how sweet her words sound. You think of a reply, but nothing seems good enough at the moment.

You both slip side glances at each other as the moon shimmered on your skin. You kept tucking your hands in your hair and adjusting accordingly. In this moment, you became conscious of how close you two were huddled together. Occasionally her knuckles would tickle yours and she’d hum a sorry, but you couldn’t help to indulge in the brief moments of her touch. 

The house party was secluded, the bass of the shitty music vibrating the outside of the porch that was sprinkled with stoners and nicotine rats. Abby grabs your wrist to guide you up the steps sees your dress ride up your bottom and gently tugs it down, following behind you. Your mind buzzed with the image of her hand drifting further. 

You pull open the jagged screen door and inhale the miles of smoke trailing outside. You look over your shoulder to see Abby retreat into her turtle shell and instantly become turned off. You reach for her hand and clasp it, to which she refuses and intertwines them, tying her clammy hand into yours. Your palm pushes wet bodies to find a corner worth standing in. The house was crumbling under the music and clabbering feet. 

Abby saw you were struggling to plow your way through the crowd so she took the lead. Her eyes were like darts, locking in on the target. She used her elbow as a driving force, the pull of her weight had you tripping over your feet. You ended up at steps going towards the basement, florescent with colored lights. The vibe was mellow and not as many people were here. After hitting the last step, you feel the release of compression from Abby’s hand, and you casually cross your arms. 

“You good?” She asks, hand softly grazing your hip as she leans in. 

All you can muster is a nod. 

The room was surprisingly cold, the old basement that had been decorated in FSL graffiti and memorabilia. In the corner was Mel and her friends from class who instantly spotted you and Abby like a sore thumb. Sitting on the couch were two women, legs laid on top of each other, sharing a dab pen. The brooding brunette peered over at you and you swore you could hear her voice by the look coming from her eyes. Abby taps your shoulder and gestures to all your classmates who are now loudly offering drink service. Mel lifts a bottle of flavorless vodka to Abby’s lips, pouring it into her mouth, while nursing her open jaw. 

“Good job, Anderson.” She practically moans. You’re unsure if she’s being condescending or flirtatious, either way, you become uncomfortable.

Mel was in a mini skirt and a tube top, both white and pristine. Her hair was pinned back and tied in a low bun, embellished with a pink silk bow. Her makeup was simple but flagrant, enhancing her features so beautifully and highlighting her predator eyes on Abby. 

Suddenly, after handing you both a shot, Mel’s perfectly polished fingernails were gripping Abby’s strong shoulder. Massaging it and laughing as if she hasn’t been an asshole to her for almost four years. Obliviously, Abby just continued to collect shots from Mel, being drawn into every string pouring out of her mouth. You follow shortly behind but are left out of the conversation, standing behind Abby, watching like the Secret Service. Mel’s hand slowly creeps down towards Abby’s back, under her jacket, and now making some joke about our professor, throwing her head back and forth, then setting it on her shoulder, rubbing her. 

You glance over to the couch to see the cat-like woman sizing you up. She waves her pen in front of her face like a dangling carrot. You strut towards her and she pats the couch and you swear you see dust fly into the air. She brings the pen up to her lips and lets the smoke brush her bottom lip. Her hand comes to rest on your thigh and then blinks narrowly at you. 

“Why haven’t I seen you before.” You whisper in her ear. 

She waits to pull away, allowing the pattering of your breath to trill against her skin. 

“Don’t know,” her hand slides upwards. “What’s your major?” 

“Nursing.” 

Her arm was colored with an interesting tattoo that you find yourself tracing. Her hand came up to the curve of your ass. “Smart girl, so if I get an injury say… here,” She brings her mouth to graze your neck, then places a soft kiss. “Then you’d help me out?” 

Her lips flick against your ear lobe which makes you shift under yourself. 

“I certainly can.” 

In the midst of the ever-present tension, Abby walks over with her pinky wrapped around Mel’s, a smile, unapologetically flashing gums and teeth. “Coming to dance with us?” She asks. 

“Yea we can come.” Your new companion replies. 

Abby smiles stiffly at her, then dashes her eyes back at you, saying your name, and then lets go of her connection to Mel. 

“Sure, be up in a minute. Get us some beers?” You smirked. 

Even under the lights, you can see how flush Abby became. Mel dragged her off, their hands back in love. You look back at your partner, cup her chin, and follow shortly behind. 

Abby stood in the corner with Mel waving her hips against the beats of the song. She held three bottles of beer by the neck in her large hands. You two caught each other’s eyes and for a moment you could see her grin. Once you join them in their designated area, your date retrieves the bottles from Abby and sips behind you, wrapping her hand on your waist. 

“I love this dress?” Her voice vibrating against your damp skin. 

Her hand kept running over the smoothest parts of your body, gripping, pinching, — drinking you in. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Ellie.” 

Abby came over to you and asked if were you okay to which you replied with a nod. Ellie was pushing her pelvis against your ass, gyrating desperately. Her hands became sticky with desire, practically bending you over, forcing you to arch your back. 

Mel pulled Abby into her sphere and tacked her arms around her neck, tossing her head wildly, and making Abby slide her free hand on her lower back. Mel’s eyes were glossy with a feminine ache, the same one you had. You stood confused watching it all play out and Abby went along with her. Something boiled inside you, lust or jealousy, you didn’t know. It distracted you so much you didn’t realize Ellie’s lips pressed on your nape. 

You turn to her and she latched her lips onto your neck, tattooed hand cupping your ass, dipping you back as she fused with you. It felt so good to be wanted like this, you felt your eyelids flutter and you could've sworn you smelt Abby’s shampoo. You could feel Ellie’s hands widen, and you could see the shimmering blonde locks under the flashing lights, and the formation of Abby’s name on your bitten lips.

“What?” Ellie pulled away in a half-hearted laugh. 

“Hm? Did I say something?” You yelled. 

Ellie couldn’t stop peering at your mouth, then glancing upwards, then down again. As she closed her eyes and moved inward, a shove from behind you interrupted your connection. Ellie yells at them but all you see is Abby locking lips with Mel, her hands full of her ass and Mel’s knees buckling. You see how Abby casually slides her tongue inside her mouth, and Mel accepts it like it’s hers. 

Ellie bucks up to the guy who pushes you. His beer split on his shirt, hair soaked in sweat, mouth sloppy, and hollering slurs at her. Abby looks over at the situation and notices you in the midst of it all and pulls you away. 

Her lips were bright and wet as she looped her arm into yours and put you behind her. You bring your hands up to her shoulders and tug at her when you see Mel searching for Abby in the crowd. Abby’s steps stuttered as you led her out of the house. It was like being released from a chokehold as the fresh wind smacked your face. You guide her down the steps and she smiles, teeth on display and eyes wedged into her cheeks. 

“Abs?” 

“Hmm… fuck me. I’m drunk.” 

Her voice was resonant, sexy. 

She stumbles over to you and dangles her wrists off your waist, face-to-face. Although drunk, she had no issue flashing you a playful gaze. You analyze her soft face and stare at the tip of her nose, then her lips, and back to her eyes. You break out of your tipsy and notice how fidgety her hands are, causing your panties to dampen.  

“You think you can handle me?” 

“Wha— what do you mean?” You choke. 

She reaches into her coat pocket and dangles her keys, which you take for safekeeping. Thoughtlessly, her hands return and cascade towards your ass, fingers brushing your dress fabric. You stay like this for a moment, relishing her touch. 

“Let me get you home Anderson.” 

She tried her best and pick her feet up off the ground and not wash her shoes against the concrete. You held her by her waist, looping through her outer arm, hoisting her up, which wasn’t an easy feat. The puffs of her breath filled the air in front of you and you couldn’t believe you were carrying her home. 

You walk her through her apartment and lay her out on her bed, turning on her lights. She groans loudly, pressing her palm against her temples, “No, turn it off. Open the blinds.” 

She sounded so sweet, totally different from her persona at the house party. So you comply, the moon was full in the sky, cascading over the room like the sun, illuminating her face. Abby sat up lazily and attempted to remove her shoe, but all she could do was giggle at her failure. You sat the the edge of the bed and unlaced them, placing them across the room. She manages to remove her jacket alone, but you insist on tucking your fingertips under her shirt and pulling it upwards. The static made her fly-aways stand up, which you naturally brushed downwards. She observed you as you then moved to unbutton her pants. The beats in your chest were obnoxious in your ears — you were sure Abby could hear it too. The only noise in the room was the huffing of her breathing, which was two touches away from becoming moans. Abby sat before you, legs spread, dangling off the edge in her nude bra and matching lace panties. Her dainty underwear in contrast to her toned body filled that cave in your belly. She brushed her hands through her hair, rolled her neck, and fell back on the bed. 

You ran in the kitchen and filled a glass with water, leaving it at her bedside. She was now under her sheets, admiring you. 

“I’ll come check on you in the morning.” 

A heavy pause floated above your heads. 

“Wanna just… s—?” / “I’m gonna go.” 

You both speak simultaneously, you freeze, curious if you let her repeat herself, but you don’t. 

“Okay.” She smiled weakly. 

“If you need me just knock. ‘Night Abby.” 

You peeled your dress off and tossed your shoes and underwear on your living room floor. Your naked body glistened with goosebumps, making your nipples harden. They became so sensitive, begging for touch, and suddenly you wished you didn’t leave Abby alone. You fall into your bed that was plush with warmth, ruffling the sheets under you. Your mind painted images of Abby’s hands slipping under your dress, pushing aside your panties, and sticking her fingers in your slick that she was responsible for. 

Your hands trailed to your aching core, surprising you with how wet you stayed all night. You roll your arousal-covered clit languidly, imaging Abby. The picture of her partially nude body flashed clearly, making you sweat. Once you build up the courage to slip your fingers in you groan her name. Abby. Letting her name levitate in the air as the sloshing noise between your legs increases. 

The Saturday sun broke through the curtains of your bedroom, revealing the state you left yourself in, nakedly aroused. A soft pattering was rhythmic at the door, which spooked you. Your back is now erect, and you don’t care to remember how or why you were this nude in bed, you just reach for the nearest t-shirt and cover your top half as you open the door. Abby was grinning, a smile as bright as the sun, holding two coffee mugs. She had ditched her matching attire for red and black plaid pajama pants, with an old college top that was worn from time. You undo the chain lock and let her in, kicking aside your dirtied clothes. 

Even hungover, she still looked beautiful. 

“Good morning.” 

You were slightly upset that Abby woke you up this early on a weekend, especially looking this good. You run to the bathroom and see the caked makeup on your face and wash it fresh. You lead her to your room where you ruffled through your dresser for a clean pair of underwear. Abby shot her eyes to the ground as you lifted your shirt to slip them on. You accepted the coffee from her hands and sat on your bed, curdled in the corner. 

“Thanks.” You squint. 

“I woke up feeling like shit.” 

“You had a night.” 

Just for a moment you had forgotten the Mel fiasco, but quickly remembered. 

“I did?” 

“You and Mel…” You allude. 

Her face falls into her palm, “Oh no,” 

You force a giggle but you hated seeing it. 

“Full tongue.” 

“Fuck. I really — I don't really know why or how that happened.” 

“She got you drunk, kept feeding you drinks… hands all over you.” 

“But it’s Mel! It’s Mel, she hates me.” 

“Hmmm.” 

She stares. 

“There you go with that again.”

“What?” 

“The hmmm stuff.” 

“You’re just hard to understand sometimes Abby.” 

“Maybe I’m not meant to be understood.” She smirked, watching your face contort with agitation. 

She leans against your headboard and just stares at you. 

“Did I do anything else?” Her voice suddenly capricious. 

You shook your head in reply as you sipped. 

“I just didn’t know she liked girls.” 

“Abby, she doesn’t.” 

She pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“Glad nothing further happened. Right?” 

“Nope. I mean unless something happened just as I put you to bed.” Her eyes lit up at this news, something ignited in her, mostly gratified. You drink more and feel your body tensing up under her lens. 

“Put me to bed?” Her fingers find her ridges in your sheets, the same way they did to your dress, and smooth them out. You shudder remembering her drunken touch. Her eyes glaze over with a sharp look, almost as if she remembered too.

#abby x reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams smut #abby anderson x you #abby smut #abby anderson #sub!abby #sub abby #ellie smut #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou

[heytherelysia]

need me a scaredy cat yandere who is shy, meek, and timid. social gatherings and public speaking is their greatest fear— for which they have passed out because of their sheer nervousness and anxiety. a poor baby who's head over heels for you, but do not have the confidence and mental capacity to approach you.

bonus points for a bully/delinquent reader. force them to look at you right in the eye after berating them for not giving you lunch. when you look at each other, you notice it. they're crying. they're crying from fear, from anxiety, and from euphoria. they're scared, damn right they are, but it feels so good... for you to look down and smirk at them. your voice, your laughter, your touch... they're about to lose it. every inch of their body is shivering, their knees buckling, and their breaths getting quicker and quicker— poor baby is overwhelmed, and you never anticipated what would happen next when you spat at their face.

they whine loudly, gradually losing their balance until they have sat on the floor. and you notice, the wet patch in their pants...

"huh... i knew you were pathetic, but never to this extent." your words are laced with genuine shock. they are the very definition of pathetic, but to know that they stoop this low? shit does it make you want to make fun of them more.

they're still sobbing, nothing is registering to them, not even your voice. they were worried that someone would see the both of you at first, given that you're in a hallway— but they don't think about that anymore. they are overwhelmed from climaxing, and they came in front of their beloved! how embarassing...

"ahng!"

as expected, they cry out loud when you step on their crotch— and you step on it hard.

"puh-please! no more! n-no more hah..." they try to get away from your foot— the way it presses against them hurts, but it had no right to make them feel good. they would've let you rub your shoe against their private part if only they aren't about to reach another orgasm— but they want to cum! they just feel like asking too much from you, you already have no lunch because of them and this loser wants you to make them cum? maybe it is too much...

"beg again like that and i might do worse shit to you. but you'd like that won't you? i'll make you clean my feet with your mouth and you would come untouched wouldn't you?"

oh jeez, don't even make them think about such scenarios, they might not be able to hold on anymore...

"cu-cum! g-gonna.. cum!"

who are you kidding? you've got better things to do than help a gooner chase their high.

you retract your foot. "a shame that you won't get what you want today... i'll leave you here in the open and let everybody see your disgusting state.

"w-wait! please don't... please don't go! i-i need you!"

you're already by the door when they try to reach to you, there's no way you're gonna help them now, they realize.

they're left their sobbing as they try to stand and regain their composure— they don't mind a ruined orgasm, so long as you fuck them up like that again.

scaredy cat yandere who looks and thinks of you like a loving god/goddess— even as you do heinous things to them for your own sadistic pleasure. whipping their body, decorating it with beautiful scars, you think. forcing them to go on all fours so you can use them as a stool. kicking them by the stomach. making them eat food on a dog bowl. all while they are sobbing from fear and anxiety.

oh what a lovely deity you are to them.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere hcs #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for putting a friend's Discord message on mute and not talking to them much, thus not being able to support them through a crisis?

My friend and I used to message a lot, but they have this habit of, if I don't answer their message within a few minutes, their rejection sensitive dysphoria causes them to then spam me with very short messages until I do answer and reassure them that I'm not angry. Talking to them started to feel stressful because I felt like I was only to able to reply at all if I could give them undivided attention for a solid length of time and answer all messages immediately, which was almost never. I couldn't handle my notifications being blown up with dozens of messages in just a few minutes.

So I put the message on mute so I wouldn't get notifications when they messaged anymore, and I started answering them back only when I felt up to it instead of when they wanted me to. I felt bad because the frequency of my messages started dropping significantly and they noticed too. It went from constantly throughout the day before they started doing this to me messaging them back once a day or other day, and eventually the messages from them slowed down too. I wanted to start messaging them more again, but every time I did, I thought of the spamming and got too nervous to do more than a quick single reply to the messages that they had sent since my last one.

The real AITA though comes from the fact that their mental health got worse in the last few weeks. I did try to support them as best I could, but as the spam messaging increased (at the same time as my offline life becoming very stressful for me) I was able to do this less and less, and I tried to tell them that these stresses had changed the capacity I was capable of showing up for, but I suspect deep down they think it's because I don't like or care about them. Culminating in, they became suicidal today and I missed the messages where they had a mental breakdown in my inbox last night. They didn't say anything about my messages directly but they did say they felt like no one in their life truly supports them/cares if they're suicidal.

I feel awful I didn't see the messages and wasn't able to help/talk them through it! I consider them a friend and I don't want them hurting and it sucks that they're going through so much. I want them to feel cared for and supported.

So I worry I'm the asshole here for not being there for them. I worry I made them feel like I don't care, especially because they have rejection sensitive dysphoria which is why they would constantly ping me to get me to reply again and tell them I wasn't mad at them, just multitasking. I know they didn't do it TO overwhelm me. On the other hand, it very much did overwhelm me and cause me stress because I felt like no amount of reassuring ever helped, the only thing that did was responding to all messages within a few minutes, and I did the best I could under the circumstances.

So... am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

[mayajadewrites]

I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

warnings: eventual smut, this is a slow burn

ao3

C H A P T E R O N E: G R I E F

this fanfic is inspired by ariana grande's new album: specifically the songs 'I wish I hated you', 'we can't be friends', and 'eternal sunshine'. enjoy! let me know what you think, comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

You wish you hated him.

The walls you let down to let him in - they need to be rebuilt brick by brick from his damage.

Levi Ackerman. 

You should've known it would end up this way. After 2 years of dating, Levi didn't want to ever get married, let alone have you move in with him. He had his house, you had yours. You slept over most of the time anyways, so what was the difference? 

Your lives are entirely different. Levi is the President of Smith Inc, along side his best friend Erwin Smith, who is the CEO. He has a large home, housekeepers, and spotless counters. You live in an apartment that's not ideal, but it's home. You've always had to work two jobs to stay afloat, even when Levi offered to give you money. You refused because you wanted to make your own income and not rely on anyone. You work at a coffee shop full time and you accept online writing gigs. Levi never understood why you cared so much about making your own money, but he accepted it. 

As you sit on your full size bed in your favorite sweatsuit, tears start to fall from your eyes. You look at your nightstand and see a small framed photo of you and Levi from his birthday last year. He doesn't like to celebrate it since it's on Christmas, but you refused to not acknowledge his birthday. You bought a tea tasting set from his favorite tea shop and set up a paint and sip at your house, but with tea.

In the photo is you and Levi, where he's sipping tea out of his favorite cup that stays at your house, and you're smiling from ear to ear. Tears fell onto the glass, covering Levi's face. You use the pad on your thumb to wipe the tear away as you put the photo in your drawer.

Levi dropped off a box of your belongings while you were at work yesterday, leaving them on your dining table. He still had a key since you haven't heard the heart to ask for it back. Your entire life with Levi was in that box. 

Your heard the vibration of your phone on your desk, the noise irritating you. It's been going off for a few hours, but you haven't had the mental capacity to answer it. 

You walked over to your desk, secretly hoping it was Levi that was trying to get in touch with you. 

Missed Call from Hange: 4

Of course its Hange. She means well, but she if nothing is persistent. 

You press 'call back' and bring the phone to your ear.

"Finally!" You heard Hange on the other side of your phone. "I've been worried sick about you." 

Hange works for Smith Inc, but she quickly became a friend to you after Levi reluctantly introduced you. 

"I'm fine." You look down at your nails that are in desperate need of a manicure.

"That's code for I'm not fine at all and Levi Ackerman broke my heart." 

You stayed silent.

"He's in a weird mood today. Like, way meaner than usual." 

"Okay..." You waited for something else to be said. "Is that why you called me? To tell me he's acting weird?"

"Well I called you 4 times to make sure you were alive. I know Levi dropped off stuff to you yesterday, I heard him talking to Erwin about it."

"What did he say?" You were more interested than you wanted to be. You shouldn't care about the man who made your entire world shatter. 

"He said that he went in your apartment and was expecting more of a mess, but that it was impeccably clean." 

You roll your eyes so far back you swear you could see the past. "I picked up a few cleaning tips from him so I clean more often now."

"He also said he wanted to see if there was any trace of another man being in there." 

"That would be none of his business. It's been a month since we broke up. He should know me well enough to know I wouldn't even let a man in my home that fast." 

"He specifically said he wants to be the only man that's ever in your apartment."

This statement surprises you. The only man? He let you let him go. He had no problem letting the last 2 years obliterate into the universe. "Well that's not gonna happen. What's done is done, and I don't do second chances. I'll get the key back from him." 

"You can try." Hange laughs. "Anyways, lets get drinks after work! I know you're off today." 

You wince at the thought of getting ready and leaving your house. "Hange." 

"Come on. I've let you rot in your bed for a month." 

"Fine." You sigh. "Our usual spot?"

"You got it. See you soon!" Hange swiftly hung up. Everyone needs a friend like Hange - one that will let you sulk but will bring you back out of the dark place you were in. 

Once 5pm hit, you grabbed your purse and looked at yourself in the full length mirror. You opted for a cropped white sweater, subtly ripped jeans and leopard loafers. Your hair was styled in lose waves that cascaded halfway down your back. You sighed looking at yourself, unfamiliar with the reflection. You've been depriving yourself of self care, letting your mind be consumed with thoughts of Levi: Why did he let you leave him? Did he ever care for you? Did he ever love you?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a text from Hange.

Hange: I'm heading over now!

You: Me too. 

You pull up to the bar - watching Hange's car pull up at the same time. "Hi gorgeous!" She practically jumped on you. "You clean up so nice!"

"Thanks, Hange. This is the first time I've gotten actually dressed in weeks." 

You and Hange share laughs and drinks, finally letting yourself let loose. After being so consumed by your own thoughts, it's nice to let your mind be at ease with the help of alcohol. 

You're on your 3rd drink when you watch the door open to the bar and you see the raven haired man that destroyed your life.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan

[vampiresautopsy]

‘Sex Therapy’

(Cw// smut)

"Now, Will," Hannibal clicks his pen before fixing his gaze to his patient "How has been your sex life been of late?"

Will shifts awkwardly in his seat, his eyes darting all over the room for exits. "I thought we were here to delve into my mind, not my bedroom."

"The mind and the bedroom are often intertwined. It's in these moments of vulnerability that we truly reveal our deepest desires and fears. So, indulge me. Have you been finding any...connections?"

"It's been rather....vacant." Will runs a hand back through his curls, allowing the light to cast over his eyes. Uncomfortable, and targeted straight at the floor.

"By choice, or by the impairment of your job?" A question that caused Will's eyes to rise back to Hannibal's. "It could be a powerful remedy for the toll your work takes on your psyche."

"I don't have have the capacity to love a partner, not right now." Will adverts his eyes back down, allowing the curls to fall once more.

Hannibal leans back, steepling his fingers. "One can indulge in physical intimacy without being ensnared in the labyrinth of love. A symphony isn't always a love song; rather just a harmonious arrangement of notes. Have you considered looking for partners to play these melodies with?"

Will crossed his arms, a barrier against the vulnerability he felt in that moment. Several seconds of silence pass, the sound of Hannibal's grandfather clock filling in the unspoken words.

"A fuck buddy?" Will finally murmured out, a subtle smirk playing on his lips, eyebrows raised.

"If that's what you choose, there's many online websites-"

"I'm not sleeping with random strangers, Dr. Lecter." Will abruptly cut off Hannibal, now making stern eye contact.

"Well," Hannibal slowly introduces his words, warning Will of his rudeness. "On the other hand, I am willing to try sex therapy with you, if you believe you will benefit."

Will gawks slightly, leaning forward. "You mean, me and you? Having sex?"

Hannibal nods as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world. A psychiatrist having sex with his patient. 

"I don't know...I've never done anything with a guy..." Will begins to trail off, picking at his finger nails, a nervous habit that betrayed his attempts to appear collected.

As Hannibal stands up, Will holds his breath. The reality of the moment eludes his comprehension, and, more astonishingly, he finds himself fully reveling in it.

Will could feel his dick hardening as he gazes down at his psychiatrist, who is now on his knees before him. Hannibal places a hand on Will's thigh with enough pressure to elicit a gasp.

"Is this alright, Will?" The older man asks, sure to gather Will's full consent.

He nods vigorously, tongue swiping between his lips, mentally cursing at himself for going for the tighter jeans in his collection today.

Hannibal's face takes on an amused grin as he begins to work on Will's belt, deliberately savoring each moment. Will's dick twitches with every brush of Hannibal's hand over the fabric.

Will shifts his hips slightly forward, giving Hannibal better access. "Please, Hannibal." he mumbles as his head tilts back slightly, still sure to keep his eyes on the doctor.

Hannibal finally releases Will into his hand, giving him soft strokes. He takes his thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was beginning to leak. He lifts the thumb to his lips, taking in a taste of Will.

In the brief second Will took to close his eyes, Hannibal's lips was already around his dick.

Hannibal takes the time to move his tongue around Will's tip as his mouth takes in all of Will's length.

Will clenches a fistful of Hannibal's hair, swaying his hips into  his mouth. His eyes shut, savoring the subtle sound of Hannibal's suppressed gagging. Incoherent utterances spill from his lips, the sheer ecstasy of Hannibal's mouth around him causing his cognitive to fail.

Hannibal reaches down to rub himself off, his moans vibrating down Will's dick, drool piling slightly at his lips.

Every nerve seemed to ignite with an electric fervor in Will, the once laxed boy now full-throttle face-fucking his psychiatrist. Hannibal lets go of himself to grip onto Will's thighs for stability, feeling the involuntary tears prick his eyes.

"Fuck, this is so good," Will groans out, oblivious to his noise volume. He grips Hannibal's hair tighter, pushing his dick down his throat rapidly as he nears his end. "I'm gonna come, Hannibal."

As the culmination of sensations built within him, Hannibal uncontrollably sobbing on his dick, a shudder coursed through his body. His warm seed leaking down the back of Hannibal's throat before a quick swallow.

Hannibal licks Will clean as he plants small kisses on his tip, each one causing another jolt in Will's muscles.

Will sulks back in the chair, recovering from his euphoria. A 'thank you' dances around his mind, but never quite comes out.

Hannibal brushes his knees as stands, taking his handkerchief to dry his eyes. "So?"

Will gives a small, almost imperceptible nod, a silent affirmation that spoke volumes.

#hannibal lecter #murder husbands #nbc hannibal #smut #will graham #hannigram smut #hannibal fanfiction #hannigram #hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal loves will #hannibaloneshot #oneshot #smut oneshot

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

tw: insecurities, crying, fear of failure and self - doubt, cursing, mentions of inconsiderate people, kissing, friends to lovers!AU

You want to disappear from the face of Earth.

The past few months have been hell for you and today was probably the last straw - as if you weren't already on the brink of a mental breakdown, your best friend decided to chew you out for not having the emotional capacity to listen to her rambles about her boyfriend standing her up on their latest date.

It has been an hour since you left the cafeteria in tears and about half an hour since Seungkwan stopped by your apartment to provide some much needed comfort.

"Shhh, it's okay, love," he holds you close to his chest, his arms securely wrapped around you, "You have every right to be upset."

"I just... Don't fucking get it," you sniffle, "It's like I'm a walking bad luck charm at this point."

"That's not true at all, Y/N-"

"How?! Nothing has been going well for the past three months!" You scream, "And nobody gives a fuck about how I feel - Hell, I don't even give a fuck about how I feel!"

Something in your words feels like a double-edged knife piercing through Seungkwan's heart - he knows you're in pain, but he hates seeing you in such a sorry state.

"Look at me," he turns your head to face him, his hands caging your cheeks as he's trying to shake you awake from a nightmare, "Stop giving importance to people and things that don't deserve it."

"And who should I give importance to, huh?!"

"YOU! Your fucking self, Y/N!" He yells, eyes screaming to hold back the rapidly forming tears, "Fuck the others, fuck the world! If they can't be nice to you, then you should be nice to you!"

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding all this time and you let yourself fall forward, pressing a quiet kiss on your friend's lips.

Seungkwan is caught off guard, but he lets himself fall into it, enjoy the comfortable silence that has now fallen in the room.

"I'm sorry," you break contact and wipe your cheeks, "I shouldn't have lashed out like that, let alone do...whatever I did just now."

"You're right," he smiles and caresses your bottom lip with his thumb, "You shouldn't have lashed out like that."

You let out a choked laugh and Seungkwan inches closer to you.

"Although I wouldn't say no to another kiss."

#svthub #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan angst #svt seungkwan #boo seungkwan #svt fluff #svt angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen #tw insecurity #SoundCloud

[henrioo]

Why do you have "WOMEN DNI" and "empire for male readers" in your bio things yet have the same amount of male and female reader fanfics? (also you spelt 'only' wrong in your pinned post)

Okay so

Thanks for correcting me, my English is getting worst every day but I made that banner wrong because I was almost sleeping in that day, I correct that shit like 30 times and still wrong hahaha

But now I'm not going to be nice to you because now you really piss me off, so I would say sorry but I'm not really

First of you all you must be REALLY FUCKING DUMB to think that I ever have write to female readers

LIKE REALLY REALLY DUMB

IF YOU TAKE LIKE, TWO MINUTES TO LOOK AROUND ON MY OLD FICS YOU GONNA FIND A THING CALLED "GN READER"

BUT SINCE YOU ARE DUMB YOU MUST NOT KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS, SO I GONNA EXPLAIN TO YOU, IT'S MEANS GENDER NEUTRAL READER

YOU PROBABLY ALSO DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IS NEUTRAL BUT DON'T WORRY I'M FEELING NICE TODAY! IF YOU DON'T KNOW, THERE PEOPLE THAT, WHAT? DON'T IDENTIFY THEMSELVES AS MALE OR FEMALE

WOOOOW, THAT MUST BE SHOCKING FOR YOUR DUMB BRAIN

BUT YEAH, SOME PEOPLE DON'T ARE FEMALE OR MALE, AND EVEN IF THEY ARE, THERE ARE PEOPLE THAT DON'T USE MALE OR FEMALE PRONOUNS, ONLY NEUTRAL PRONOUNS, THE GN READER FICS ARE FOR THEM, NOT FOR YOU STUPID ASS

AND DUDE, YOU REALLY GOT ME PISSED SAYING I FUCKING WRITE FEMALE READERS WHEN I JUST READING FEMALE READERS GIVE SO MUCH DYSPHORIA THAT MAKE ME WANTS TO STOP WRITING

OH, BUT YOU WROTE AFAB... OH GUESS WHAT STUPID DUMBASS, AFAB PEOPLE ARE NOT FUCKING FEMALE, NOT FUCKING WOMEN!

ALL MY OLD STORIES ARE WRITING WHEN I WANTED TO EVERYONE FEEL LOVED WITH MY IMAGINES, I WANTED THAT NO ONE FEEL DISCRIMINATE BECAUSE IS A MALE OR FEMALE STORY ONLY

BUT OH GOD I SWEAR FOR MY DEAD BODY THAT I PREFER DIE TO WRITE A FEMALE STORY AND I SWEAR I NEVER WRITE ONE

SO YOU DUMBASS, YOU ARE LUCKY THAT YOU MADE THAT ANON, BECAUSE IF I HAVE YOUR PROFILE I WOULD BLOCK YOU WITH SO MUCH PLEASURE

SO YEAH, STUPID ASS, I REALLY HAVE A LOT OF GN READER AND SOME AFAB GN FICS, I WON'T DENY, BUT I NEVER WRITE A FEMALE STORY, WE ARE CLEAR WITH THAT?

And yes, my profile is gonna be a empire for male reader, and yes I don't want any fucking women interacting with my post, BECAUSE IS NOT MADE FOR THEM

And if is not clear enough, I don't give a shit if I'm excluding women from my stories making only male reader

Women already excluded boys from they story's and they gonna do this until the end of the days

So yeah, fuck women, my blog is only for boy and masc people that want a safe place

And for last, go fuck you anon, if you are that dumb don't even lose your time on my blog because you don't have the mental capacity to understand anything

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x you #anime imagines #henri talk #one piece x male reader #one piece x trans male reader #this bitch pissed me of #bro really? #did you read my stuff right?

[neewtmas]

24 days of Appreciation

DAY 7

Hello! It's the 7th of 24 days of appreciation this month, where we shine a spotlight each day on those we appreciate in this fandom!

If you want to submit someone or something (for more info read here), you can do so here or just message me! If you wanna stay anonymous, either tell me or submit on anon.

Appreciation by me:

today my appreciation goes to the people behind @savelockwoodandco! We are all still so sad over the cancellation news and while I and many others oftentimes don't have the energy and mental capacity to continue the fight, you guys (i'm pretty sure you're more than one person whoops) have been fighting tirelessly for literal months at this point. If anyone wants to show support, it's so valuable to have all the information you provide in oneplace and just providing the information is so much work in and of itself tbh. I'm so thankful for your continued effort and I applaud you from the sidelines. The pure dedication you show for this fandom is worth so so much and I wanna make sure you feel appreciated for it🫶🏻💫

Appreciation by others (submissions):

by @edible-rat-vomit: i got a positivity submission 😇 hihi! edible rat vomit here :3 im here to appreciate a couple people but first all my mutuals!! i love y'all so much and it makes my day so much brighter to see all of you. i wish i could remember all of your @s but i am soo bad w remembering things.. thank you all for welcoming me into the lockwood and co fandom! now onto the specifics.. first we got @lucy-j-carlyle .. you are the strongest mf i know on this platform. you've lost so much recently (ur tumblr blog included, may she rest in peace) . you somehow keep going! @krash-and-co i cant say much here bc a lot has already been said.. but you are seriously hilarious. also kermit v kipps. i dont even need to say more @favcharacterpoll listen all i gotta say is im so thankful for u accepting the kermit v kipps bit @yveni y'all have yveni to thank for my amazing pfp! they are also the creator (along with their team) of the lockwood and co family portrait (i still cant get over this btw its so amazing)! you never fail to make me smile when i see you on my dash :) @smol-being-of-light im ngl i have no idea when we followed each other but you're so fun and i love reading ur posts. thank you for ur message in one of the previous positivity messages that was so sweet 🥹. i wish i could go on but this is actually the third time ive typed this out and i keep losing it smh.. anyways.. if ur name isnt on this list please know that im thankful for you and i love you lots ps thank u much to the wonder human behind this appreciation chain 🫶 ur dedication is fantastic

Show your appreciation and submit someone or something here :)

#24 days of appreciation #lockwood and co #lockwood & co

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

I like to interpret Jason's relationship with sex through an Enkidu sort of lens.

In the Epic of Gilgamesh sex is a distinctly civilizing force. Modern ideas of sex being a beastly animal urge are very much not at play here. Enkidu is created as a fully formed adult who is wild; more animal than man. Because he is animalistic, he shows no interest in sex.

He is taught how to be human through sex by a woman named Shamhat who occupied a place in society that has no real modern equivalent - Priestesses of Ishtar were on one level sex workers but the context of that sex work would be profoundly different from anything we have today and the entire economic-religious-political enmeshment of the temple system is fascinating and I don't know nearly enough to properly talk about but ANYWAY

The asexuals in the audience may very reasonably be going "yikes!" At this point and like, yeah, understandable! This is clearly not a factually true idea about sex, and we shouldn't apply it universally, but I do think it's an interesting framework to view it from on an individual person/character level.

Now moving the focus back to Jason when he first comes back from the dead I think he's not animalistic, but he is certainly isolated, and his motives while highly understandable are still wildly at odds with living a full life as a living human in society. I say this while thinking of the many "Jason treats himself like a vengeful ghost" notions I've seen.

Gentle, pleasurable touch and connection with other human beings is not something he receives under almost any circumstances. Long term severe touch starvation probably contributes significantly to how super not mentally well he is.

I don't think he loses the anger or the vengeance or the violence, but I do think that sex with someone he feels safe with would radically reshape how he sees himself and his relationship to his own body in a way that leaves him with a greater capacity and desire to meaningfully engage with the people around him. I think, like Enkidu, it could reveal to him a portion of his own humanity.

(based off of reading Stephen Mitchell's 2004 translation of the Epic of Gilgamesh)

#jason todd #damian's tomfoolery #this is a mess but oh well i hope someone else finds it interesting too

[moregraceful]

There were so many hot guys at adult public skate tonight I was like what the hell...usually it's like 60 year old beer leaguers and sjsu students and adult figure skaters? Where did u all come from. Go away. Either pull the fuck up or stop smiling at me. Anyway, three thoughts:

4th set of ice skating lessons started two weeks ago, and halfway through class today I went, you know what? I'm not actually that bad. I mean I'm not good! I can't do very much! But I'm not afraid anymore either, and that goes really really far in how much more willing I am to try new things and have fun with it. I still have some kind of insane mental block against doing a crossover but I also tried doing a C turn (against a wall to be clear lmao) today and fucked it all the way up into a S turn. And I had fun!!

I started doing strength training twice a week in the beginning of January, which is likely a huge reason for why ice skating is getting easier lol, but which I started because I saw a physical therapist for chronic back pain and she went bro this is so fixable you're not injured you just have no core strength. I was wandering around last weekend minding my own business and realized I hadn't had a really really bad pain day in a while. Which is insane!! I was regularly an 8 on the pain scale for years!! And now it's not something I have to think too hard about. So that feels good too!

Today my coworker said, "I know you are new to the non-profit world, so I want you to know that I have never in 20 years in the nonprofit field seen the way [situation at work] has spiraled out of control. Like [rapidly spiraling situation] is the worst I've ever seen." And I went, okay, well, idk what to do about THAT but I need health insurance so I'm staying. And she was like, no, I didn't mean you should leave, I just meant we don't have a direct manager and the person overseeing us doesn't have the capacity to care, so if you want to take half a day off for the AHL All-Star Game, just put that you're out of the office on the schedule and don't worry about formally requesting it. And that felt GREAT!!

Good day!! Good week I hope 😤

#fresno oilers.txt

[strawberryamanita]

Alright, I gotta head this off at the pass. If you are feeling uneasy because of the new outrage directed at Mark, please consider giving this a read. I'm just one single schlub, but I know a thing or two about reacting on impulse because of my triggers, and I gotta throw my hat into the ring.

Okay.

I know about the Hospital game video. Very unsettling stuff, I can well imagine. As someone who can't handle graphic depictions of real-life events myself, I'm not going anywhere near the video. I also know now that the TikTok angry mob is looking to cancel him because he hasn't taken the video down as of the publishing of this post(July 11th, 2023, 10:52AM EST).

Y'all, I'm asking you, as a concerned fandom member, to please give Mark the benefit of the doubt. [He uploaded a video literally yesterday] talking about how busy and stressful things have been for him: he just lost his grandmother, he got sick, he gets injured frequently, he's in the middle of filming a movie that he had to take a break from because he was putting himself at risk for damaging his eyes, it just keeps going.

If you're outside the fandom and just having fun sending stray shots everywhere, please know that Mark is not gonna ignore all this when he's able to address it -- but that when is not right now. Mark and his editing team do a good job warning his viewers about common things like flashing lights and exceptionally gross imagery; this other video is a long way from the improvements the channel has made. 7 years ago feels less relevant than 1 day ago.

I'm pretty confident that Mark's not gonna refuse to delete the video because "Oh don't censor art" or whatever he's gonna get accused of. He, like I'm imagining a good deal of people were, was not aware of how real those images were, and it's probably not at the front of his mind because that video is buried under literally thousands of others on the channel. Mark's deleted videos before, he probably doesn't have a special attachment to this video or anything.

And, real quick, before you question why his editors won't just do it for him -- it's still his channel, I don't think he'd be cool with his editors making decisions about deleting things without running it by him.

All of this stemming from TikTok makes perfect sense, seeing how the fandom on tumblr was completely calm before the news was brought in from the outside. TikTok runs entirely on sensationalism and hype and clicks, and the eternal engine of Needing To Cancel Someone comes for us all one day. But I am asking you -- you, the person reading this, not the algorithm on TikTok -- to step back and think about this situation for yourself. No, I'm not just "defending a celebrity" and all that -- I'm trying to say that this uproar is being driven by very intense emotions drummed up by graphic content, and your nerves are probably shot by thinking about it all and I hear all of that. I've done impulsive things while triggered myself, you have all of my sympathy, none of this is to downplay the shockwave hitting you and others right now.

But Mark made a mistake.

Making a mistake does not make someone a bad person. It doesn't make you a bad person, it doesn't make me a bad person, and it doesn't make Mark a bad person.

Please don't keep yourself on constant duty to watch his every move and time how long he's been "ignoring" this on a stopwatch. Mark is known for pushing himself more than he should; the fact that he hasn't addressed this yet is a good sign that he has hit capacity levels of stress.

Let yourself breathe. Distance yourself from the video. Ask around on tumblr for their favorite lighthearted Markiplier videos, or just watch another YT'er if you need to get even further away from this. Prioritize your mental health today. You are going to be okay. This is all going to be okay.

Please let yourself believe that.

#markiplier

[sirfrogsworth]

My dad and I had a very long day but we are starting to figure some things out.

His main issue is circulation to his right foot. That is causing most of his pain and discomfort. His right big toe is a goner. But if they can restore circulation to his foot with a stent, then that is all he will lose. But there is a major worry that he could lose half his foot or all of his foot or even part of his leg if the catheter procedure with the stent is unable to improve circulation.

The more foot they take, the harder it will be to walk. And if he can't walk at all, I might not be able to take care of him. And that would suck for a myriad of reasons. My possible homelessness being a real concern.

The podiatrist was real doom and gloom about all the possible amputations and scared my dad with worst case scenarios. I didn't appreciate that. I mean, I know he had to present all the possible outcomes, but can we at least do the procedure tomorrow before we talk about losing a leg? I don't know.

That said, we are told this doctor that puts in the stents is one of the best in the world. He has won awards for this and everything. So if anyone can save my dad's foot, it is him.

I still think my dad has an infection. He was pretty lucid today, but for the last 30 minutes he has been seriously hallucinating. I can still communicate with him, but he is very loopy. He hasn't slept all day and they gave him a Percocet and that made him quite, umm... high as balls. So if there is an infection combined with no sleep and an opioid med, I would guess that is a recipe for delirium. They are going to give him an Ambien tonight so I am hoping he'll get some long deep sleep and hopefully that will fix the delirious state he is in. It has worked in the past.

I had a great conversation with his kidney doctor today. She is wonderful and I wish we saw her more often. She is one of the smartest doctors I think I've ever encountered but also incredibly kind, funny, and empathetic. She reminded me of a cordial Black auntie but like with a Mensa membership. She went from complimenting my dad's silver hair and making fun of her husband for using Just For Men hair dye to hacking the hospital computer to find my dad's sleep study results that we have been unable to obtain since July... and then perfectly interpreting them without being a sleep specialist.

She is not just proficient in kidney issues, but she seems to have well above average knowledge of many medical issues outside her purview. She gave us some great advice on a variety of problems my dad is facing. She also gave a great explanation on why my dad has issues with his breathing and requires constant oxygen. Can you believe after all this time no one has been able to give me a good answer on why he needs oxygen? I've had several doctors just say they didn't know. But I ask her and she tells me his lungs have trouble inflating all the way. I forgot the medical term, but he can not inhale deeply. So it's like working with half lung capacity at all times. She recommended a breathing exercise toy thingie. It's like a game where you inhale and try to lift a little ball. You do your exercises every day and hopefully increase the power of your suck over time.

After (hopefully) fixing the foot, my secondary concern is my dad's mental decline. He was lucid in the morning and most of the afternoon. But after a Percocet he was grabbing for imaginary pills in the air and trying to eat them. It is very hard to take care of him when he has these episodes. Especially since he gets them at night. I am not able to sleep when this happens. He becomes a danger to himself and sometimes tries to get up and walk places when he doesn't have the balance. One time he tried cooking raw potatoes on the stove top and nearly burned himself. He just put whole ass potatoes in a hot pan and thought he was cooking them for my mom. That was a very difficult night. But until last week he hadn't had an episode in nearly a year.

So I am hoping once the infection is completely gone and he is back in his own bed and able to get quality rest, these events will be rare again. But I am worried they may be a more common occurrence and I will have to adapt my caretaking to accommodate them. Perhaps I could sleep in the morning and afternoon instead of late evening. I dunno.

Anyway, his catheter procedure is in the morning and then I think he has dialysis. Since he won't be in his room most of the day, tomorrow might be a rest day for me. I'll stay home and try to catch up on all the sleep I've lost.

We are working it out. I think my dad has a decent prognosis at this point. But there are still many things that could go wrong. I am choosing to be optimistic at this point.

One final thought... my dad's medical care would be substantially worse if I was not there to advocate for him. It makes me feel sad for all of the elderly people out there who don't have someone to speak on their behalf trying to get them the best medical care possible. Like, if I didn't tell them he needs Ambien to sleep in the hospital, he could be so far into delirium right now that they would be unable to communicate with him at all.