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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

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Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.

I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.

This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)

My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.

But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.

So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.

My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.

My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.

I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)

It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.

After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.

My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)

I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.

I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.

#aita #am i the asshole

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69constellationsinatrenchcoat · 2 months ago

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Sometimes accessibility is using an electric toothbrush

One of the best things I did for my chronic pain and ADHD was buy an electric toothbrush with a timer and an app.

This is gonna sound nuts but hear me out.

I've been repeatedly cracking jokes to my dentist, physio and therapist that that my life would be so much easier if I didn't have to stand up for two minutes while brushing twice a day (and end up skipping it because my body hurts too much - followed by getting anxious about not brushing), and my therapist had a stroke of genius (I wish I'd thought of this) and said "well, why don't you try an electric toothbrush?"

I have a crippling fear of the dentist (something about having vampire fangs and various impactions from 9-14 years, braces for 4 years, having eight might be more teeth pulled and ongoing jaw pain from early teens will do that to a bitch - also seriously? does anyone like the dentist? shout out if you do but I cannot relate) and he knows that I get overly anxious and obsessive about brushing my teeth well to avoid the dentist and fillings as much as possible. So, I listened and used my disability funding. It took a lot of back and forth to justify spending that much on a toothbrush, and I wouldn't had I not had the funding

But wowow, has it changed sm. It's easier to sit down to brush my teeth when I'm not having to put so much effort into it and my teeth feel cleaner. I'm doing a better job for the same amount of time and effort - anyone with chronic pain and fatigue understands how precious those things are... and the best bit? The app it turns the whole fiasco into a game (as long as sending notifications to remind to replace my toothbrush head and to brush). I look forward to cleaning my teeth to see if I can do better than I did yesterday. It's insane that something so simple as having a "brushing score" can hack the ADHD braincell into wanting to do it.

I dissed the app so much "why does a toothbrush ever need to be Bluetooth" I said, and now I laugh and smile to myself knowing it seriously helps.

...plus, my teeth got whiter? maybe that's the consistency from wanting to, or maybe it's the brushing, or some combination there of, but I'm not complaining!

I'm using the same amount of time and less effort, and getting a better outcome.

Sometimes accessibility doesn't look like ramps and mobility aids (though that's SO important too!), sometimes it's making things easier by finding routes that streamline your everyday routine, and being kind to yourself and allowing yourself the grace to let change, remembering that yesterday or last year's 100% may not be today's :)

Love you all 💕

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gayfanservice · 2 months ago

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Kei with a male reader. figure their on the debate club or something and Kei vents to them because their a non biased person regarding volleyball and his team. Figure they give encouragement and kei just bluntly asks them out.

Guess who’s back (back again) I am back! (Once again)

Friends to lovers, i dont know anything about debating

*********

“-and that tiny-ass-mother-”

“Too strong, Kei, try to keep the emotions at an even level so it doesn’t cloud your judgement.”

“Huh? I’m not debating this, he’s tiny!” Kei huffed, cheeks pink and puffed ever so slightly as (Y/N) chuckled.

“Right, sorry, continue.”

Kei was currently flopped on (Y/N)’s bed, who was sitting at his desk, a notepad and pen in hand, looking like a therapist.

“He’s so annoying. We’re doing basic drills and these two just keep arguing! They argue about this, they argue about that! All they do is argue!” His hands dramatically extended to the air.

“Mhm, and how does that make you feel?” Kei sighed at his friend’s poor attempt to be funny, who found it just a little funny to fuck with him. If Kei didn’t like him so much, he would’ve kicked his ass for not taking this outrageous news to heart.

“Awful, because after practice I came here only to have your ass joking about my suffering.” There was obviously no malice behind the words; a playful undertone was hanging from them as his heart sped up. He huffed, again, and rolled to his side, cheeks turning more red, “If you were there, you’d understand.”

“Maybe, the only teammate of yours I know is Yamaguchi.” (Y/N) continued writing in the notepad for a few seconds. “Do you know why they fight?”

“‘Cause they’re stupid.” Kei snorted out, a proud look on his face as he rolled onto his back. “And immature, can’t forget that part.” He heard his friend hum, acknowledging his words. “But, you have no idea how much that twerp gets me so… angry! Genuinely, he’s the most annoying guy I know!”

“Have the captains-”

“Captain, technically there’s just one captain.”

“Just gonna down-play one, got it.” (Y/N) grinned, “Has the captain and co-captain, or whatever term you guys use, talked to them?”

Remembering how the two were literally thrown out because they couldn’t get along with each other, Kei bursted into a short, obnoxiously loud laugh, “You have no idea, they literally kicked them out of the gym until they could get along!”

Surprise was evident on (Y/N)’s face, “Wow, that, uh, yeah, that is a pretty intense hatred.”

Kei let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I can’t deal with those two, I swear.” He mumbled, rubbing his face, glasses pushed up to his forehead. “Thanks for letting me rant, without much interruption of course.”

“No prob, dog-”

“Gross.” If only he didn’t like this debating nerd.

“It’s always good to get stuff off your chest.”

“Is that way you joined the debate club?”

“No, I just like telling people they’re wrong.”

“I- that happens? I thought… actually, I don’t know what I thought.” (Y/N) cackled as he continued writing. Kei’s heart swelled at the noise, staring at the faint outlines of those glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, no doubt that (Y/N) had since childhood. He sighed obnoxiously loud, again, “What am I gonna doooo,”

“Well you could quit-”

“No?” Kei scoffed at the audacity of this man to even think he’d quit volleyball because of those two dumbasses.

“-or you can tough it out. Just because they don’t get along now, doesn’t mean they never will. I bet in a couple weeks they’ll tolerate each other and stop being annoying.” The emotionally intelligent one said, still writing in the notepad.

“Yeah, I will.” As if he wasn’t already doing that.

The two sat in silence, for only a couple minutes. Kei went onto his phone, scrolling through whatever app was available to him. His face was still warm, heart still faster than normal. He liked the other boy for quite some time now, but he never had the guts to actually say anything. Hell, Kei wasn’t even sure if (Y/N) even liked him as a friend, but at this point it’d be awkward if he didn’t, so he assumes yes.

Kei took a deep breath, heart pounding faster and face turning red as he sat up, phone discarded to the side. Might as well confess after spilling your hateful guts, right?

“(Y/N),” He got a hum as said boy stopped writing, making eye contact with a red Kei, “Wanna go out with me?”

(Y/N) froze, the bluntness and randomness completely taken him by surprise. He felt his face heat up and tried to keep his composure, “Wow, very blunt and straight forward, never expected less from you, Tsukki.” He grinned.

“Oh, fuck you.” (Y/N) laughed as Kei deadpanned, not fond of how his friend called him by his childish nickname. “Statement: retracted.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“Wait- no- Kei, I’m sorry!” (Y/N) snorted, amused by Kei’s childish actions, “I’m sorry, you just took me by surprise and I had to get you back! Yes, yes, I’ll date you, sourpuss.”

“Hm, I don’t know if you deserve it anymore.” A smile crept onto Kei’s face no matter how hard he tried to stay nonchalant. (Y/N)’s grin widened, setting the notepad and pencil down.

“Fine, you leave me no choice,” He held his hands up in a mock surrender, “I guess we’ll both just be single for the rest of our lives, forever craving the touch of one another.” He held a hand over his heart, almost tipping the chair over with how far he leaned back.

“God, you’re weird.” Kei feigned disgust at the display in front of him.

The two laughed as they finished whatever they just did, the afternoon sun casting a shadow into the dimly lit room.

(Y/N) got up from his spot, “So, are we dating?” He asked as he sat beside Kei.

Kei’s heart once again sped up at the closeness of the other, “Uhm, I don’t know,” he didn’t know why he was awkward now, perhaps his brain was occupied with how easily he could lay down and finally cuddle (Y/N) like he’s thought of for the past couple of months, or perhaps it just suddenly got really hot out of no where, “are we?”

(Y/N) pretended to think, putting a finger to his chin as he leaned on Kei, “Sure, why not?”

*********

It has been… awhile lol

Read the rules before following

#serviceanswers #x male reader #x reader #tsukishima kei x male reader #tsukishima x male reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader

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many-but-one · 4 months ago

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Hey, you, person scrolling on tumblr.

It does get better.

I know you hear it all the time, you’re probably sick of hearing it. I know I was when I was going through it. Like yeah, great, it’ll get better in ten years! Doesn’t help me right now, though, when I’m going through mental hell and just wish that death would take my suffering away.

I get it, I’ve been there.

Whether you are actively suicidal and practicing writing your note in your phone’s notes app, whether you’ve attempted and want to attempt again, whether you’re passively suicidal in the “I’m gonna start smoking because I don’t care if it kills me” way or the “I don’t drive with a seatbelt just in case I get in a car wreck and might have my suffering finally ended” way or in the “I don’t look both ways before crossing the street because maybe someone will be speeding and not paying attention and kill me” kind of way.

I’ve been in all of those states before. Many times. I’m writing this because I’m feeling ideation and it’s why I’m writing it. The reason it’s ideation and not action and why I’m not acting is because I know it will pass. I just gotta ride the wave.

It does get better. It doesn’t happen overnight. It can take hard work. Which sucks, because I know you’re tired. You’re bone tired. Soul-deep tired. I know. Hard work sounds like the last thing you wanna do right now, when you wish that every time you slept that you wouldn’t wake up again.

But it’s not the kind of hard work that you have to finish at a certain time. There’s no due-date for wellness. You have plenty of time to get it done, all you have to do is keep showing up.

For some, it’s talk therapy. For some it’s therapy and medication. For some it’s gonna take processing some deep seeded traumas and it’s gonna suck. But it is worth it. It really is.

Currently you are looking through life with sunglasses on. Everything is so, so dark. Even on sunny days when sunglasses can be helpful, you’re still muting the world around you. The colors aren’t vibrant, everything is a dull shade. You step inside and it’s dark. At nighttime, it’s too dark to even see. Eventually you gotta work on taking those sunglasses off. It might seem futile to step outside and take your sunglasses off because you know that you’re just going to put them right back on. But every day you go out and take those sunglasses off even for a minute at a time and really take in everything you’ve been missing, you’ll start leaving them off more. You’ll get to see more things. Do more things. Things you would have totally missed with them on. And eventually you’ll realize that if you had killed yourself, you wouldn’t get to see and do all of these beautiful things you’ve been missing.

I know that analogy makes depression seem like a choice, but hear me out. Sometimes you will need help taking those sunglasses off. Sometimes you will need to take medicine that makes taking the sunglasses off easier. Sometimes you’ll need to talk to your therapist about this dark world you’re seeing, and you know you need to take these glasses off but they are so heavy. Eventually you will gain the skills and the strength can take them off one minute at a time and experience the bright world you’re missing. Sometimes you need that mobility aid that can help you get outside in the first place, that pain medicine that helps you get out of bed to even make it to the door. It can take time to get those things too, and it’s so devastating when it takes so long to get the help you need, but you can’t give up. There is so much beautiful world out there and you deserve to see it.

Rainy days will happen in the midst of the bright and sunny ones, and that’s okay too. Rain is necessary, it keeps the world bright. It makes flowers grow, it nourishes the earth around you. But rainstorms don’t last forever, and neither will this bout of sadness amongst your sunny days. (Talking to you, folks who have been doing well and feel yourself getting bad again. Ride the wave, things will settle down again soon.)

Ten years ago I was sixteen. My first suicide attempt I can recall was when I was eleven. In the last ten years alone I’ve had many, many more. Some were meant to end my life, others were related to my specific circumstances and were meant to cause me harm but not kill me.

I am glad I am here today, at 26. These last six years alone have been some of the most difficult parts of my mental health journey outside of my young childhood. I had to work through some serious trauma. I had to learn how to set boundaries. I had to divorce my wife whom I had thought was good to me but was actually abusing me and I didn’t know it because I didn’t know what a healthy relationship was supposed to be. I had to finish college. I had to come to terms with a physical disability. I had to learn how to be comfortable asking for accommodations. I had to learn to stop fighting my brain and start working with it. I had to learn how to love myself. Every version of myself, even the versions of myself that are small and scared and hurt and want me to die. I had to work on my self esteem. I had to come to terms with cutting out toxic family for good. I had to go to work while I’m doing all of this. I had to find a reason for living every day, even if the reason is so simple as “my cats would wonder where I went if I died.” Even if the reason was “I don’t want my internet friends to wonder why I’m not posting anymore.” And as I started to gain larger followings of people who were rooting for me, it became “I can’t let them down, I have to show them that healing is possible.”

Something I’ve said to a lot of suicidal people who feel bad about telling me that they are only alive because they don’t want to make me sad is this: “if that is what is keeping you alive right now, then good. Whatever keeps you on this earth is important. Because every day that you are here is one more day that you will get closer to being able to live not just for other people, but for yourself.” And I am here to tell you that it is possible to be in a place where you are living because you want to. Where you are living because you are excited for what the future will bring. Where you are joyfully curious to what you can accomplish. Where you will look back on your toughest years and say “shit, if I can get through THAT then I can get through ANYTHING.”

I am 26 years old and I still get suicidal ideation. Usually because of trauma related stuff. Triggers, anniversaries, etc. I am not suicidal every day anymore. I don’t wish for death every time I go to sleep. I love myself. I look at myself in the mirror and even when I’m sleepy headed and bleary eyed with dry ass skin and messed up teeth, I am like “DAMN LOOK AT YOU SUPERSTAR” because gods damn, if I can live through all I’ve lived through already, then I sure as hell can take on just about anything the world can throw at me.

I am in a healthy relationship now. It’s not something I thought was possible. (Seriously, the first time I saw my girlfriend look at me with love in her eyes I almost cried because I’ve never seen a partner look at me that way.) I’m learning how to be a good partner too, and how to set boundaries. I’m still learning how to be a human being. I’m still learning how to speak up when I get mistreated by people at work or out in public. I still get anxiety about leaving the house on occasion.

I’m learning that romantic love and platonic love can be equally deep and rewarding. I love my best friend with all my heart and soul. I love my girlfriend just as much. I’m learning I can have healthy amounts of intimacy with both my friend and my girlfriend, and it doesn’t have to end in a triggered spiral or desperately taking a shower trying to scratch the feeling of skin on skin contact off of me.

I’m learning that grounding methods and distractions are some of the most important tools in my healing toolbox. I’ve learned that sadness and anxiety and emotional pain doesn’t last forever. This post right now is me distracting myself and riding the wave through this triggered feeling I’m working through. I’ve learned that another important tool in my toolbox is hope. Hope that I will get better, hope that my life will not always be one nightmare after another, hope that things will settle down and I’ll be able to breathe again. And maybe have a fancy umbrella drink to celebrate, too. (Inside joke😉)

It will get better. Sometimes all it takes is a scenery change. Other times it takes literally tearing your life apart at the seams and gently stitching it back up into something you want to live. If you are a teenager reading this, you would be shocked at how much better things get when you move out of your parents’ house. If you feel stuck in an abusive situation and there’s no way out, I’m here to remind you that there is always a way out, and there will be people who will help you do so.

And remember, you’re not alone. No matter how unique your situation may be, someone else has either gone through it or is going through it now too. Find a community who is centered on support and healing. Changing your mindset and perspective is important.

You can get better. It takes time, patience, grit, and determination. And you’ve already got all that. I know, because you are here reading this post.

It will be okay. You will be okay. Deep breath.

You got this.

#manybutone #did osdd #did alters #dissociative identity disorder #personal post #did system #mental health #mental health advice #depression #anxiety #ptsd #cptsd recovery #ptsd recovery #depression recovery

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emmitaaa4 · 10 months ago

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Addressing some fandom BS inconsistencies

Gwyn was shadow mommy, Az was shadow daddy, they were gonna have shadow babies with her extra super pliable bones.

I audibly chocked when I read this @nikethestatue (btw everything said in this post was on point). No but seriously this is how they sound, too many of them insisting that there is nothing wrong with basing the likelihood of a ship on who has the more suitable uterus to be with a man... cause supposedly they're just picking up on the hints SJM wrote for them? She likes babies for HEAs so ofc children are the end all be all of a relationship, plus there's absolutely no way that she could ever write an adoption plot SJM is literally adopted and has done it in other series. Selective reading strikes again.

A minimum amount of critical thinking would tell you that 1) the infamous *magical uterus change* scene was about nessian (& feysand), not about any ship; 2) if SJM had written Nesta changing Elain's uterus, it would have given too much away, not to mention 3) how disturbing/violating it would have been for Nesta to change her sister's reproductive anatomy WITHOUT HER CONSENT?! None of it makes sense narratively; my girl Nes would never, especially given the trauma they both suffered from having their bodily autonomy--and so much more--ripped away by the Cauldron.

This argument is so trivialized that I see it every other day on reddit/tiktok/*insert media app*, and yet elriels are the toxic side of the fandom? The ones whom people are allowed to insult, to ridicule for theories all made in good fun, the women that are villainized over a difference of opinion? Don't get me wrong, there's assholes on both sides and people keep calling one another variations of delulu (and the nastier personal attacks). But by painting this fandom-wide villain there is such a lack of accountability for the plethora of harmful talking points spread by other portions of the fandom. (I've been silently reading the anti-elain & anti-elriel tags for like a year, and I'm on tiktok. Yes, I have self-destructive tendencies).

Anyways.

I never understood either how people ever actually thought (or well still think) that gwynriel would happen BEFORE elucien?? It makes no sense logically, narratively, or in terms of characterization & the arc she's set up for Elain, Azriel, and Lucien. Yet it took one controversial bonus chapter for people to decenter Elain in her own story, that is make her choice of romantic partner--which SJM spent 3+ books setting up--Azriel's. It took one bonus chapter that soo many readers are still unaware of, to brush Elain off as a "sexual object" Az is using to distract himself until his therapist-extraordinaire Gwyn comes in and heals him all up. Because ofc she will: she's badass and not the "passive and weak and boring" Eplain (aka "Plant" or "brain dead gardener"), she fits the YA archetype of the spunky warrior-girl so she can handle his darkness, and SJM supposedly spent time fleshing her out because she wrote her as a LI for Azriel; she's made for him, she is what he needs to grow (I actually enjoyed Gwyn's character btw, just pointing out how silly it all sounds). “Next book is a love triangle between Elain/Az/Gwyn” “Elain will turn evil or is secretly evil”. So you're telling me that SJM would pit Elain & Gwyn against each other in a love triangle over a man... all because of a necklace that was not even mentioned once in the actual books? Please, let's be logical for a second.

All this because instead of reading the bonus chapter in the context of the books, some people are reading the books in the context of the bonus chapter. Which now that I think of it is probably why so many people mischaracterize Az the way they do--because yes we know enough of his character to know half of the stuff the fandom diagnoses him with is questionable. Azriel? Entitled incel x fuckboy hybrid (gotta be the first of his kind, minute slay ig)? Interesting tell me more. No joke I saw a semi-popular post on here where a gwynriel said they read the bonus WITHOUT HAVING READ ANY OF THE BOOKS. I'm sorry, ship wars are silly and believe it or not idc who ppl ship, but it makes it hard to take some of the things they say seriously.

All this to say that the fandom isn't even debating the right thing. If you consider everything SJM has said in her interviews:

(she's been planting seeds for Nesta & Elain's book since acomaf; she knows who she is writing the first 2 books about + is keeping things open for the 3rd one--with 5 different ship options--which automatically rules out "Elain will close the series"; she said she's doing research for Elain's book in the ACOFAS bonus & there's seeds for future bookS in acofas; all she said recently about her beloved *heroines* and the themes of fate/true love/choice she finds *very* interesting & wants to discuss)

and if you also consider all she's written in the actual books (elain's characterization + the overarching plot in general & how she fits into it), then it's pretty evident that Elain's book is next.

The question then would be who is the MMC / 2nd PoV in her book, aka would acotar 5 be an elucien or an elriel story? Because logically, gwynriel was always a consequence of elucien. I honestly do not understand how people don't see that.

Oh and they always think they're gagging elriels with the "obviously Azriel is the next MC" as if elriels aren't saying the same thing? And we're the ones twisting info and not making sense. It's just funny at this point.

---sidenote: I realize that this post generalizes some things, and I just wanted to say that I have interacted with lovely eluciens / people on either side of this headache of a ship war. My hard limit is Elain haters though... back off I say 🤺 BACK OFF 🤺

---sidenote 2: I would have written this as a reblog except im not entirely sure how tumblr works and I get no visibility from them rip.

#please be so for real rn #elain archeron #anti gwynriel #anti nonsense #acotar 5 #elriel #pro elriel #pro elain #pro azriel #sjm interview #azriel bonus chapter #nesta archeron #elucien

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eeveebitches · 1 year ago

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balcony. || Roman Roy

Pairing: Roman Roy x F!Reader

Summary: You're Roman's sad assistant, Roman is your comforting boss. There's something unspoken, too.

Word count: 1.685

The harsh autumn wind bites at the skin exposed by your party dress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It's times like these where you curse yourself for your 'the jacket ruins the outfit' mentality. Sure, the moment you wanna go home you can step into a cozy Uber. But this jacket-less lifestyle doesn't support emotional breakdowns on balconies.

You're not sure why you feel the way you do. Maybe it's just life-- too much and too little, constant scratching and clawing just to get out of bed. Or maybe it's this dress, and the fact it just doesn't look as good on you as it used to look. Maybe it's the fact that you're lonely, no matter how much time you spend with others.

"Are you thinking of killing yourself? Because that's, like, lame." Your head turns for some reason, as if it isn't immediately clear to you that it's Roman. "Only a little bit," you weakly chuckle out, turning back to look at the view. Small lights blinking from high to low, desperate to shine through the darkness.

Roman wordlessly walks to stand next to you, although he turns his back to the view. He leans on the old, marble railing, hands tucked in his pockets for only a moment before he pulls them out again.

He's clearly nervous. Emotions aren't on the forefront for him, and the dysfunction of his upbringing definitely hasn't made him capable of handling yours any time, either. But his hands clasp and unclasp, his eyes blink rapidly, and with a single sentence he dives into the deep end.

"So are you, uh, okay?"

Your breathing stills at the question. Suddenly the cold air blows into your eyes, and now suddenly it's making you tear up. Damn the cold air for making you look weak. "Yeah, I just... I don't know," you mumble out, carelessly wiping your eyes, any make-up you had on now smudged. From the corner of your sight you can see Roman's eyes widen. His head starts darting around, like he's searching for something in the air, as he hesitates in his next actions.

He takes a single step. A small one, for sure, but the step is to get closer to you. One leg over the other, and now his arm is touching yours. "D'you wanna... talk?" You shrug, still mindlessly staring out in front of you as Roman struggles to think of ways he can show he does care about your feelings, even if he wouldn't outwardly admit it.

"Wanna be my therapist?" You laugh bitterly as you say it, to which Roman cracks an uneasy smile. "Sounds like a fun time, maybe even a little hot. Doctor, patient, stuck in a room for way too long," he tells you, carrying a nonchalant grin.

As always, he makes you laugh. "And a therapy couch to have crazy monkey sex on. I'm into it." Roman's grin grows at that, teeth peeking out as he finally turns to look into the night as well. "Soooo, what, is the party so bad you're considering suicide?" You roll your eyes at him with a light smile, which he happily reciprocates. "You're on the right fuckin' path, though, since their wine tastes like the aftermath of a grape juice enema," he groans out, eyes squeezed shut in faux annoyance.

With each smile you give him, he feels more secure. Like his feet are properly tied onto the ground, instead of floating out into the empty cold of space. "I'm just sad is all, Romes. Not about the shit wine, though, I haven't even had any tonight."

"Seriously? I thought that guy from the app company sent you a drink. He wanted to get into your panties bad, you do know that, right?" He tries not to come over as jealous, since this is your moment of vulnerability, but you can tell he is by the way he runs a shaky hand through his hair. All you do is shrug in response. "Didn't accept it."

He cackles, which makes you smile. "You stone-cold bitch. Poor guy's gonna jerk himself off as he cries, and you show no mercy?"

Another shrug from you, and another laugh from him. His laughter dies down quickly when he sees the change in your expression. There's a quiet somberness to it. The kind that brought him back to his childhood, uniforms and broken mirrors.

He hates that somberness on you.

"Seriously, what's up? You're all quiet and fuckin' depressed, it's giving me the heebie jeebies." Your head doesn't turn to Roman as you prepare to speak. You keep your eyes on the twinkling lights of the buildings far away from you. Twinkles of humans who are just as awake, and possibly just as solemn as you are. "It's these parties. They just kinda highlight my loneliness, it's... it's just a bit much tonight," you sigh out, head not moving an inch.

You don't bother looking at Roman's face. It's most definitely a melancholic one, eyes round and glassy with his eyebrows slightly knotted. "You have me," he mumbles out, and despite his weak attempt at making it sound humorous, you both know it fell flat. He's too desperate for you to acknowledge that for it to be funny.

"I know I do."

A silence falls between the two of you as you both stare out. Roman's arm is still flush against yours, a lick of heat that's so miniscule yet so warming to you.

He's thinking of something, anything, to say to you. Something that'll comfort you like you always comfort him. But how can he copy the eye contact you make across a room, or the hug you always give him where you squeeze his shoulders extra tight? Nothing he could say could ever carry the nurture your perfume carries for him.

"You don't have to say anything, Romes, just... be here with me?"

Roman stills. His hands stop fiddling, and his eyes stop darting around, searching for an anchor point to help him stay ashore. He lets out a heavy sigh, before grabbing your hand and tugging you with him. "C'mon," he mumbles, not daring to look at your expression, "let's go home."

There's something far too domestic about how he texts his driver with one hand while the other one holds onto yours. Like you're not his underpaid assistant, or his closest friend, but instead his partner. Your mind floods with images of his apartment flooded with your things, and Sundays together in bed.

The two of you weave through the crowd. Roman speaks for the both of you every time someone tries to speak to either of you, probably to ask why you're leaving so early. He simply throws a 'fuck off' their way as he continues leading you to the exit.

The taxi is somehow already standing there. "Let's ditch this shitty granny orgy," he chuckles out. He's clearly just as nervous as you are about the implication of whatever is happening now, but he doesn't hesitate in sitting snugly against you in the car. You let your head fall onto his shoulder. A heavy sigh escapes you, the kind that felt like it had been in your lungs for years.

"Just so you know, I didn't do groceries." You huff out a small laugh. "I told you to start doing them though," you mumble against his shoulder. His head falls to lean against yours, digging his nose into your hair. "I know, I'm just really fucking stubborn, like, all the time," he mumbles back.

This makes you laugh a little harder. He laughs too, content in your proximity to him. It felt right, sharing body heat. The car stops, and as the two of you step out Roman grabs your hand again. He doesn't let go, not even when unlocking his door.

Your hands disconnect to let Roman remove and hang up his jacket. He scurries to his bedroom, leaving you to take in his apartment. You've been in it plenty of times, but never like this. Never in a way that made it feel like home.

Roman returns, already changed into a sweater and loose pants. He hands you some clothes, as well, head nudging you towards his bedroom. "It's all oversized, because my pecs are fucking huge and stretch my clothes out," he jokes, flexing his muscles as if he can't hear his blood flow in his ears.

With a sheepish grin you head to his bedroom and change. You try not to dwell on how constant Roman's scent now is, or how you're pretty sure he uses the same fabric softener as you. Instead, you call out his name, thoughtlessly throwing yourself into his bed.

He bites back a quip, and silently enters the bed to lay next to you. It's like there's no air in the room as you lay your head on his stomach, your arms carefully wrapping around his waist. Gently, he strokes your hair, other hand swung over you, keeping you as close as you can be.

Roman's body stiffens at the first sniffles. Your tears roll down your cheeks, but you don't let out any sobs. He pulls you up, and tightly wraps his arms around you. Only when your head is buried in Roman's shoulders, you let out a strangled cry. You convulse in Roman's hold, shivering despite the warmth he's giving you.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here," he whispers as he keeps his hold on you strong, lightly rocking from side to side. There's a lump in his throat as he listens to you gently weeping. You, out of all people, shouldn't ever have to feel this way.

As you quiet down, only letting out the occasional hiccup, Roman lightly pulls you to look at him. He cradles your face with his hands, shakily wiping your wet cheeks with his thumbs as he tries to think of anything to say.

"If you need a salary raise, let me know."

A hoarse laugh escapes your throat. You smile through your tears, and Roman smiles back.

"I think I'd like that."

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession hbo #roman #romulus roy #roman roy #female reader #succession fanfic #hbo succession

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alexaloraetheris · 3 months ago

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I'm probably gonna be cancelled for being xenophobic on main or something, but it makes me really sad when I come in contact with people who I don't have any language in common with.

In our country, we got a few different waves of immigration so 50% of the time your delivery guy or taxi driver is someone who doesn't speak the local language, and very little English. Everything is handled by its relevant apps, so you can go an entire interaction without a single word spoken.

But I like chatting with the taxi drivers. They work long hours for an exploitative system to make cents, and since I'm benefiting from the system (ie. Getting cheap rides) I do my best to be a model passenger, chat a little and get them to tell me something that interests them. It's a side hustle for a lot of them, and their lives and day jobs are SO INTERESTING. Like, it's a whole different post about the disaster of our economy that scientists, medics, IT programmers and physical therapists need to taxi in their spare time to make it above the poverty line, but it makes for excellent road conversations.

And the immigrant drivers probably have just as interesting stories but HOW WOULD I KNOW??? Today I had an Indian driver, and ofc I was polite and everything, but mostly silent. But he had a playlist of indian songs and I heard one I really liked, so I asked him in English what it was, and guys, he was so happy I was showing interest, he didn't know English that well but he did his level best to translate the song for me, tell me about the DJ, and you'd think he saw Narayana himself when I told him I knew who Shreya Goshal was and I liked her songs.

And y'all, I was so happy but also so sad I didn't try to talk with him from the start of the ride. But a lot of drivers who don't speak even English tend to be embaressed and uncomfortable (one apologetically told me 'my English is little') so I usually stay silent. But now I'm sad because I really would have liked to chat with them, because I just know they would have had so many interesting things to say.

But we don't understand each other. And I'm really sad about it sometimes.

Someone please invent a universal translator already😭

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spicerackofblorbos · 9 months ago

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Epilogue

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault, eventual smut

☾ Author's note ➼ Heeeeyy I'm back. If you haven't had an eye on my masterlist for Unspoken Words, you might have missed that I've been working on an epilogue. SURPRISE. If you have, then here it is lol. I am OFFICIALLY done with UW and I'm so sad about it. ALSO for some reason my tumblr app hates me and any time I italicize a line, it italicizes the entire paragraph and I have no idea why. As always, the sign language lines are marked with ' and speaking lines marked with ".

Thank you to anyone who has taken time out of their lives to read my "little" story. I enjoyed writing about this little world and I could not be happier to know that most of you liked reading it. I appreciate you more than you know. Can you believe this is around 100k words? Crazy. Anyways, I'm gonna go write some more, I'll see ya around! <3

☾ Word Count ➼ ~4k

Reddish-orange leaves dance in a unique ballet number past the window you were currently staring out of. You can't keep your fingers from picking at the sleeves of your wool sweater as you wait for your speech therapist to come and get you from the semi-quiet lobby. The only noises you hear comes from the reception desk and the TV mounted opposite of the couch you were waiting on. The weather channel calls for a beautiful weekend with warmer than usual temperatures – which is good considering Halloween is tomorrow.

A side door leading to the back offices opens up, and your name is called from a stout brunette woman with large rimmed glasses and a kind smile. She holds it open as she beckons you forward, and you don't hesitate to smile back as you pick up your bag and make your way through the door and down the familiar hall on her heels.

You’ve been seeing Dr. Boreal for about almost two years now. You started speech therapy shortly after starting trauma therapy – something they had recommended. You weren't quick to decline the suggestion, but you'd be lying if you said you had ever thought about taking back your speech. Some time in your youth, you just assumed it was gone forever. That it was something that couldn't be fixed.

According to Dr. Foust, your trauma therapist, the speech block was mental. Therefore, it was something that could be explored and possibly broken through.

When he had said that, you had newfound hope and suddenly a silent goal to work towards.

It's like clockwork the way you stepped into Dr. Boreal's navy blue office, stepping over to the right and onto the plush cream colored couch meant just for patients. On the walls of her office sits multiple picture frames and motivational posters, all with smiles and bright colors. Her dark curtains sit parted, letting in the afternoon autumn sun that hits the wall next to you. You watch as she grabs the folder with your name on it before sitting in her large red chair and smiling over to you.

“So, how have you been? How was your trip with Levi?”

‘I’m doing well. And It was lovely! You were right, too. The road to Trost is gorgeous this time of year and the trees! So pretty.’ You think back at the little vacation Levi took you on just a week ago. He had taken the scenic route to the little town that you and he had rented a cabin in.

The leaves were at the end of their life and littered the ground wherever you went, crunching underneath your boots. Between the intimate moments and crisp atmosphere, it really was a magical time. Levi practically had to drag you back home.

On the way out, Levi found this adorable tea shop. It's not easy finding a place that made tea as well as he did, and of course he didn't say anything, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it. You won't soon forget the content on his normally stoic face. That reminds you of the little package snuggled in your purse so you reach down into it to pull out a small, rectangular tin.

‘I got this for you.’ You beam at her as you hand it over gently.

“Cranberry autumn tea?” She inspects the wording on the metal, hazel eyes glittering gold in the sunlight that reflects off the container. Her eyes shift to you as a grateful smile lights up her weathered face. “Oh you sweet thing, thank you so much. But you shouldn't have.”

‘As thanks for dealing with me.’ You laugh softly, leaning back into the plush couch.

“You know it's no problem. Even if I wasn't paid, I'd still enjoy your company.” She waves dismissively after setting her gift down on the table in front of her. “So, let's see where we left off last time.”

You pick at the edges of your sleeves once again as you watch her find the right place in her notes. Dr. Boreal is one of the kindest people you've had the pleasure of being around. Though she was being paid to help you, she always did so much more. She was patient with you when you struggled to get past certain goals, and when your voice hurt after a grueling session she would bring you herbal tea with honey to smooth the pain. Levi joked that you liked her tea more than his to which you always rolled your eyes at.

“Well you have made outstanding progress. Of course, there is still plenty we still need to work on. But you're doing well.” She looks down at her papers as she talks, the scratch of her pen fills the silence after she finishes. She looks back up to you. “Have you shown anyone your progress yet?”

Those around you are aware of your long journey through therapy. They even celebrated with you after one year - Hange's idea of course. Your sister couldn't hold it in when you had told them of the progress you've made and the goals you were looking forward to completing in the oncoming sessions.

What they didn't know was that you were even in speech therapy, and how far in your speech recovery you were. Keeping it secret from Levi was getting harder with every passing week.

‘No, but I plan to soon, I promise.’ You pinch your lips together in a grimace. This has been a threat for the last 6 months but truthfully, you've been too scared to tell anyone. No, not scared. Nervous.

“Well, you know my stance on that. I’m sure they're going to be ecstatic, when you're ready to do so.” Dr. Boreal sets out a recorder to let you hear your voice the way she does, a tool you both found the most helpful when it came to fixing the areas that needed the most work. “Enough of that though, are you ready to start?”

With a confident smile, you open your mouth to speak.

A few hours later, you find yourself home and in the kitchen with your mind in another dimension. You’re currently plating up a vegetable tray on a tupperware platter as autumnal lofi weaves through the room from the speakers behind you. You’re so focused on arranging your sliced up miscellaneous veggies that you don't hear the metal key in the front door and the light footsteps of your boyfriend coming home for the evening.

“Hey.” Levi mutters from behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder to look at what you're doing – not without difficulty, of course. You jump at his sudden proximity causing you to drop the chosen dipping sauces in the middle of the platter, disturbing the once perfect arrangement.

There's a soft sigh from you, but you feel the giddiness at the expected company fluttering in your stomach. Even after a few years, he still gives you that effect. You twist in his arms to face him, and his gray eyes are downturned in concern.

“Are you okay? Was therapy too much today?” He lessens his grip on you so you can pull your hands up to sign.

Levi Ackerman’s raven hair is slicked back from him running his fingers through it, and the way that it stayed put and the sheen on the strands, you can tell it must be raining. You've been so fixated on making sure it looked good that you hadn't even noticed. His gaze stares into yours as he searches for what might be bothering you, so you give him a reassuring smile.

‘No, it was actually really good. She said I've made a lot of progress.’

“That's good. Did you come home late, or have you been working on this tray the whole time?” He glances over your shoulder at the vegetables now thrown about on the counter.

‘Yes and no. I decided to run by the farmers market for more options. But they didn't have anything we didn't already have.’ You explain, shrugging your shoulders.

The afternoon sun was so nice on your face that you would have been a fool to not take advantage of it - and it's a good thing you did. Your eyes slide to the water droplets that drip down on the outside of the living room windows.

“Hm. Well we need to leave for Hange's party soon and you're not dressed. Let me finish this for you and you go get ready.” He leans in to kiss your forehead before unraveling his arms and pushing you in the direction of the bedroom. You only roll your eyes but make your way to the back as he asked.

Hange's Halloween Bash is something they have been planning for about a year. The moment the decorations went on sale last winter, she snatched up what she could. She said something about starting a new tradition for her friends turned family. Levi wasn't as excited about the prospect of such a social gathering but you were, and that was enough to get him to go.

Not only were you able to get him to go, you were also able to talk him into dressing up with you.

In front of the mirror, you finish tying up a black corset that wraps around your waist. It helps form-fit the blue long sleeve dress that drops down to your bare ankles with your pair of flats completing the look. You were almost ready – all that was left was the big blue bow that you pinned to the back of your head as best you could. You suppose for a makeshift Ariel, this would do just fine. You almost chuckle at the irony of the characters you suggested to Levi a month ago.

A girl who can't talk and a prince that loved her despite it.

You do a small twirl in the mirror to make sure everything looks right. You almost jump out of your skin at the sudden sight of the person standing in the doorway. Levi leans against the door frame, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. His hands are in the pockets of his work clothes as he watches you intently, taking in the sight of you. With a hand over your heart, you give him a small frown.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” He doesn't sound sorry at all.

‘You are too quiet for your own good. One day you're going to scare me so bad that I'm going to punch you.’ You shake your head but smile anyways. You make your way to the closet to pull out Levi's costume for the night, making sure to grab the red waist sash that threatens to fall to the floor.

“You keep saying that.” He takes the hanger from you but not before leaning in to give you a chaste kiss. With a small laugh, you head out of the bedroom and down the hall back to the kitchen.

On your way there, you take a moment to glance at the framed photographs on the walls. Levi made sure to hang up the pictures he took from his apartment that he shared with Erwin as soon as you both moved in.

There was the one of him, Furlan, and Isabel as well as the one of him and Erwin on graduation day though Levi had persisted with Erwin to keep the latter. His blonde and blue eyed friend told him to take it as he had plenty more photos of the two he could hang up. That didn’t make Levi feel any better and it makes you wonder what photos Levi might be hiding from you.

Dispersed in between those are ones of you and Hange, and some with your shared circle of friends. The last one frames three photo strips next to each other. The first one is from your first Sakura Festival a few years ago where you sat on Levi's lap – both red faced and unaware of the extent of your affections for each other.

The other two are from the same photo booth, taken from the previous and current year. With each year, the smiles and looks of adoration grew. Both, luckily, were without the presence of your sister and Erwin. Surprisingly, it wasn't your idea to go back. As much as Levi did his best to hide his sentimental side, it was always present.

When you get to the kitchen counter, you see the platter rearranged and closed up with the matching plastic lid. It looks perfect, even better than when you took a crack at it. You also see two cups of tea on the counter, both with steam rising up and dancing in the kitchen lights before dissipating into the air.

With a grin, you reach over to grab what you can only assume is yours based on the light color of your tea then walk around the island to sit on the bar stool, leaning on the counter with the mug in both hands. After your first sip, you sigh happily. It was one of the new teas Levi had brought back from the trip because he couldn't get enough of it. Earthy with hints of floral notes, topped with a citrusy zing.

When you start to wonder if Levi was okay, your eyes catch movement in the hallway. You watch Levi struggle with his sash, the soft grumbling of his irritation coming from under his breath as he tugs on it. Sometimes you never realize how hard it is to do something with less than the normal amount of fingers until it's forced upon you. Of course, Levi was never one to ask for help even after all these years.

Without a second thought, you stand up and make your way over to him. He doesn't fight as you take the fabric from his fingers and tighten it from the back. Tucked into the sash is a white blouse, loose enough to billow in the evening breeze. Black pants and matching boots fit snug against his lower half. When you're done, you turn him to face you to inspect the whole ensemble. With his hair properly slicked back, he was the perfect Prince Eric.

‘You look rather dashing, you know that?’

“Tch.” He rolls his eyes at you, but there's not a trace of annoyance radiating off of him. As much as he hates it, he loves you and would do anything you asked – within reason.

‘Are you almost ready to go?’

“In a few, I didn't just brew this for nothing.” He makes his way to the counter to grab his mug and instead of sitting, he stands propped up against the counter like you were but with his phone in hand.

“Your sister wants to know if you want apple juice or apple cider.” He mutters, his gray eyes flicking up over to you as you make your way over to the seat you were just at to finish your own cup. “Both, right?”

‘How did you know?’ You laugh, but nod in agreement. You watch as his fingers type away, the clicking of the keys filling back empty space. There's barely any sunlight coming through the closed blinds signifying that nightfall was almost here. You just now noticed Levi had gone ahead and turned off everything for you while you were getting ready.

The gut feeling you felt last week is back. There was a moment when Levi drove through the rolling hills, the golden rays of sunset lighting up his face. A moment of peace that washed over you as his soft gaze flitted over to you in the passenger seat for only a second, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

With a nervous sigh, you reach over and pull down his phone with one finger to get his attention. Instantly he looks at you with worry, his mouth downturned.

“Are you okay?”

‘I bet you love me.’

His eyebrows raise, a little surprised at your random question – at something so obvious that he worries even more that something is wrong.

“What’s this about?”

‘Humor me. I bet you love me.’

“You bet right.” He draws out, confusion lacing his tone.

‘You have to answer a question now. Since I was right.’

“What do you want to know that you don’t already?” His eyes roll at you again, but he sets his phone and mug down and leans over on his elbows to watch you intently.

‘It’s a simple but very important question, I promise.’

“Tch, okay. Hit me.”

Your eyes are suddenly fixated on the fridge to the right of you, the heat of his stare making you shy. For a split second, you almost chicken out. With your heart in your throat, you feel as if you're going to choke as your pulse quickens. Can you do this? Were you ready for this? You were quite tired after today, maybe it's best saved for another day. These thoughts race loudly in your head, but the moment you look back up to meet Levi's gaze, they cease to a quiet murmur.

No, you're ready. And you can do this.

With your fingers laced together, you rest your chin on them and continue to look up at Levi's perplexed expression. Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you're finally able to find your voice.

“Will… you marry… me, Levi?” Your voice is scratchy despite the honey tea you drank after your session. It's rough, and to you it's far from pretty. But the change in expression on Levi's face is almost worth it as he stares at you dazed. It's almost funny to see the physical reaction of his brain comprehending what just happened, like a computer crashing and rebooting.

He's reaching over the counter suddenly and cupping your face in his calloused hands. He holds you there as his wide eyes bounce back and forth between yours. You fight back a laugh, your lips pinched together and quivering.

“Do that again. Say my name again.” The urgency in his voice is palpable.

“L…” You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to find your voice yet again. It's hard, but you try again anyway. “Levi.” It comes out brittle this time, leaving an uncomfortable pain in its wake.

“How did this happen?” His own voice sounds a little higher than before, and you have to bite back another laugh.

‘I've been working on it alongside my sessions with Foust.’ You've met your vocal quota for the day. Levi's hands stay cupped around your cheeks and he pulls you in until his soft lips touch yours again. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss him back, feeling the weight of your anxiety lift off your shoulders in an instant.

When he pulls away, his stare is conflicted and before you know it, he's released you and whips around the corner down the hallway. Dread inches its way into your chest where the anxiety was before as you realize he never answered your question. Did he need a moment? Did he even hear what you asked? The shock may have been too much. Your teeth bite into the inside of your cheek as you watch the dark hallway nervously.

A few seconds later, he emerges from the shadows with red creeping from his neck up into his face. He's flustered and holding something small in his hand. It takes you a moment to register what it was, and when you do, you jump to your feet to meet him halfway.

He doesn’t hesitate to open it to you though his fingers tremble ever so slightly. Inside are two golden rings, interlocked together. A small oval ruby sits surrounded by metal vines beset by smaller white diamonds in the shape of leaves. It's simple yet elegant. Your eyes snap up to his, no doubt as big as saucers.

Not only is this ring breathtaking, it's also groundbreaking to you. You've seen this ring box around since before you both had moved in together. It's been in the closet collecting dust, so of course you didn't think anything of it. He's had this ring for a long time, sitting right under your nose.

‘How long were you planning to propose?’

“For a while now. I just didn't know when would be a good time.” He carefully takes out the one with the red ruby and holds it up to you. The kitchen lights glimmer off the smooth surface reflecting red against his fingers. “I can't believe you beat me to it, though.” So he did hear you.

‘I wasn't planning to do it tonight, but I just had a feeling.’

“You never cease to amaze me, you know that?” He leans over to place the ring box onto the side table behind him, then turns to you. Then he does something you've only ever seen in movies – Levi gets down on one knee and the ring out to you.

“Um. I'm not good with things like this. But I just want you to know that I love you. And I've never been more prepared to spend my life with someone, if you'll have me. Will you marry me?” His eyes look away for a second before focusing back on you. Even though you had pretty much said yes when you asked first, he still seemed so nervous.

To see Levi in such a mess like this in front of you makes that laugh you held back burst forth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Speechless again, you reach your hand out to him and just like that, he slides the ring on your finger with ease.

“I- uh, borrowed one of your rings to get it resized.” He mutters as you stare at it curiously. “So, that's a yes right?” Even though you took the ring, you can still hear the anxiety in his voice.

‘Of course, dummy.’ You laugh again before pulling him up on his feet by his collar and into you for another kiss, this time deeper and full of the love that you have for this man. When you pull away, you can't help but stare at the metal hugging your ring finger.

“It was my mom’s, she insisted on me having it. I think she knew.” He grabs your hand and pulls you into him, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your face. “I suppose we should call her tomorrow, yeah?”

You nod sharply, your smile hurting your cheeks, but you don't care. All you feel right now is the same peace you felt last week and excitement for the future ahead. You didn't want anyone else.

“Say it again?”

“Levi.” He leans in again, hand still on your face as he presses his lips against your once more. There have been many shared kisses since you both became official but this one felt different. You didn't have the words for it, but it was miles away from being bad.

Levi's phone vibrating loudly on the counter disturbs the comfortable silence and you can only sigh. You almost forgot that you had somewhere to be and are reminded by the caller ID flashing your sister's name. In Levi fashion, he ignores it but he does pull away to look at you with a grimace.

“So who’s telling them?”

☾ Previous Chapter: June - Part 5

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