#Handling digestive problems

[fantasiavii]

I’m only two and a half books into the Witcher series but I already feel like out of all the fantasy I’ve read, it’s one of the more realistic. Not in a grimdark way but just in a like normal human way. If normal humans lived with fantasy creatures and magic, I would expect them to be this way. Magic exists but Ciri is still too embarrassed to talk about her period. War exists but there are still people willing to take in orphans out of plain goodness and generosity. They even know about germs but Triss can still get gastroenteritis and it’s treated seriously, not as a joke.

[craptainkirk]

If it's just one person calling you stupid then sure enough theyre saying it because they need you to seem worse standing next to them so they feel better about themselves in comparison. Even if they have to manipulate reality itself to make it true. And do you know who would do such a thing. A stupid person

[aughtpunk]

That Time a Published Author Told Me to Un-Queer My Novel

So, I don't think I ever shared this story on Tumblr before.

As you may know I've spent the past ten years turning my old Welcome to Night Vale fanfic into a stand alone novel called Echo of the Larkspur. Now, I haven't been working on it ten years straight. I'd pick it up, do a bunch of editing and rewriting, submit it to agents/publishers, get turned down, put the book away, wait 2-3 years, dust off the book, re-edit and rewrite, etc etc. A cycle that repeated itself far too many times that I would like.

Well, during one of these cycles when I was in the 'get rejected by every agent and publisher I submit to' stage I asked the writing group I was in what I was doing wrong. Because at this point I had reached a hundred total rejections and I was starting to suspect that the issue was with me.

One of the members of this writing group, a male author who was traditionally published, offered to read my first chapter and give his advice on how to fix it. This was, in retrospect, a mistake. But I was desperate. I sent him the first chapter and waited for his response.

Folks. The email he sent me changed my life.

First he said that agents wouldn't publish my novel because it was Sci-fi with hardcore gay erotica in it. This is curious because while the book certainly is queer, at no point in the conversation with this man did I say it was hardcore erotica. Nor did the first chapter feature any. It's almost as if he assumed that just because something was gay, it had to be hardcore erotica. Interesting.

He went on to say that a Human/Robot pairing was weird and that there was "No Way" my story could seriously address the issues of a relationship like that. Once again, he only read the first chapter. He just...assumed I wouldn't think of that? And that my book wouldn't cover it?

The author then said “I also felt that the LGBTQ inclusion really seems to cloud things.” Direct Quote.

And then this is when he said my favorite quote of them all:

The idea of a book being a sci-fi with romance AND a mystery is a Modern Art Marzipan Owl. It's just too confusing! No one can handle a story that is a mystery in a sci-fi enviroment AND has a romantic subplot! THEIR BRAINS WOULD LITERALLY EXPLODE!

Thankfully he had a solution to my book problem. His answer? Turn the book into an Action Spy Thriller and turn S.A.G.E., a robot that identies as a gay man, into a sexy lady robot who needs a MAN to teach her what it means to be human.

(I assume the male lead will teach the 'confused' female robot how to be human via his penis.)

Now my favorite part about this advice is that at no point did he outright say "Remove the gay part". No, instead he sneakily changed the robot love interest into a female robot as if I wouldn't notice. Just sort of swept away the gay bits as something totally unneeded and just mucking up the narrative. Also that's not the plot of my story, I have no idea where this virus thing came from.

(Also note that the female robot can't be robotic-like at all. Must preserve the average straight-man sex drive at all costs I guess)

He then finished his email basically saying that I should remove everything that 'traditional publishers' don't like (aka the queer parts) and make it easier for 'your average reader' to digest and my book will be good as published!

When I said this email changed my life I meant it. Because it made me realize I'd rather be self published and unknown than traditionally publish milquetoast trash like he suggested. Like holy fuck. If I removed all of the "Difficult" to digest stories out of Echo of the Larkspur then there wouldn't be a book left!

So here I am. Self publishing my Marzipan Modern Art Owl of a book. I know it'll never see the inside of a bookstore or top the charts on Goodreads but hey, I'd rather it speak to one person than have a thousand people get excited for the part where the male lead teaches the lady robot how to be human (via his penis).

If a Queer Sci-fi/Romance/Mystery novel sounds like your jam then consider preordering it!

Looking for something to read now? Can't afford the book? Willing to read in exchange for an honest review? You can join my ARC book readers here!

[hopegained]

absolutely wild how some people get to keep their job despite being comically evil and some are straight up fired for speaking up against a genocide

[foldingfittedsheets]

I was talking to a coworker recently and offhandedly said I wasn’t exactly competent at a lot of things. He reared back in obvious visceral disagreement that made me stop midsentence.

“What do you mean you’re not competent?”

“I guess I mean compared to the people I’m surrounded by? I’m not very handy, I guess.”

He looked baffled.

I tried to illuminate with a story. So at the sex shop we needed to vacuum every night, right? But one time after my days off I could tell the carpets hadn’t been vacuumed since I last saw them. I asked the other girls why not. It turned out that the screw that held the handle on the vacuum had been stripped and it wouldn’t stay in. Why was that down to a single screw? Bad design.

So any attempt to vacuum meant the handle just popped off when the screw jumped ship. I looked over the vacuum. I found a junk drawer. I found the biggest screw I could that still fit in the hole wrapped it in tape to bulk it out. Then I shoved/screwed it in place. Then I duct taped the opening so that fucker couldn’t pop out. Voila, a working handle.

The other girls were utterly delighted that I’d fixed the vacuum but I was painfully aware that my solution was neither elegant nor long term.

My coworker listened. Finally he said, “I think being competent just means you have the ability to learn a skill you lack, and you can do that. Your solution worked, and you were the one that tried to fix the problem.”

I digested that and agreed, but admitted any new skill learned would prompt me to be a huge baby about it.

[cherrylovelycherry]

Okay, maybe Ratio x gn!reader tarte aux fraises? i know u love ratio muehehe

.note. omg oke oke, i know what i have to do. ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ (I always end up writing so many words that I have to erase pieces of the original idea. T_T)

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises."

Try hard

pairing. dr ratio x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, academic pressure, ratio being rude, again. synopsis. Like he said, you just need to try hard. And if you can't handle the pressure, what better than to withdraw from medical school? full menu

"No," His eyes on you, by those sharp words, coming together with the other glances of your classmates.

"Uhm, would it be a possible case of appendicitis?" You spoke, something nervous, but your words were almost like a question rather than an affirmation.

"Wrong,"

His voice again, almost as if he were glad of your mistake.

"Are you answering or are you asking me, Y/N?" Ratio spoke, almost with a despicable tone.

You just looked down.

It was almost always the same, for him, all your answers are wrong, he always had to find something wrong with what you said.

"If you're going to answer again as your classmate, refrain from talking and just say you didn't study anything." Ratio said, for all your classmates in the room.

"Honestly, I don't even know why I still continue teaching some of you."

Oh, and you knew perfectly well that he was referring to you.

He says, almost as if your existence were a total nonsense for him.

"All of you are dumb, you all have the same level of intelligence as an Earthworm, maybe a little less than one even." His words come out almost sharp again.

"How can it be possible you can't even answer the simplest question?" Ratio spoke out, almost frustrated by the lack of intelligence on most of his students.

Your cheeks became red, the way Ratio spoke was always so harsh, so harsh and direct, and even more so if it was you who answered a question, he never missed an opportunity to show that you were wrong in front of everyone else.

"Now, that's enough chit-chat, back to the topic." He looked at the board, his expression was somewhat serious, his arms behind his back, as he stood in the middle of the classroom.

"The appendix is a small, worm-like structure that branches off the back of the colon. It's located in the lower right lobe of the abdomen. The main problem with appendicitis is when it becomes infected and then blocks all waste product from leaving the colon." He spoke, standing at the front of the class.

"What does that mean?" he spoke again. This time with a much easier question than he asked you.

"Mhm, you," he pointed to a student.

"…That means all the waste from everything that comes through the digestive system doesn't have anywhere to go, and can back up into all of your abdominal cavity," She said, with some nerves, but keeping her words as firm as she could.

"Correct." He spoke, as he saw her answer, with a much calmer expression this time.

"The appendix becomes inflamed and very sensitive when an infection begins to form in it. You can experience fever chills that go down into your groin like cold water. The most common pain is in the abdomen, specifically in the lower right side. It can be mistaken for a stomach ache, or even menstrual cramps. But with further care, it can be determined as appendicitis." Ratio speaks again, almost a little happier.

"Anyone else?" He asked.

"If there is no intervention, it could explode," this time you dared to speak again, trying to sound firm.

"A precise answer, even from you, for a change," He spoke with a little more than a sarcastic tone, but as usual, he can't seem to say anything without adding an annoyed tone to everything he says.

"That's true. An appendix that is left untreated can burst, or perforate. But not always because of pain close to the appendix area will be necessary to remove or attempt an intervention." He says, as he returns to look at the board.

"If the appendix bursts, the pain might go away, but a much worse process, is going to start. The appendix will begin to break down, and the bacteria and pus from the organ can pass into the abdominal cavity, causing a widespread and severe infection. This is called peritonitis." Ratio spoke, his voice almost firm, and serious again.

You felt somewhat calmer, but still, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

Was it necessary that I always talk to you like this?

Because after all, you were his partner.

Ratio kept his eyes on you for a few moments, as if analyzing your expression. He almost always knew when you had those thoughts.

As he finishes speaking, the class bell begins to ring, almost as a sign that the class just ended.

"You are all dismissed." Ratio said, putting his hands behind his back, his eyes looking at the students as they began to leave the room.

You focused on keeping your stuff, without a hurry, because you weren't very excited to eat in medical school. The food wasn't so good or appetizing there.

The room was getting emptier and emptier, except for just the two of you, since you were the last one to leave.

Ratio leaned against the front of the desk, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he had something in mind to discuss with you.

"Y/N." His voice came out quite firm, and almost demanding.

"Yes?" Your voice almost sounded like a whisper, a whisper of nervousness, still, you answered him.

You could already feel what kind of a talk he was going to have with you now

Ratio seemed quite serious, his eyes almost fixed on you, as if analyzing your every move.

He waited a few seconds before speaking. He still retained his serious expression.

"You're falling behind on a lot of the classes." He spoke, with an almost severe voice.

You just looked down.

He knew that you didn't always answer very intelligently, but it seemed like he just liked using every single opportunity he got to be harsh on you.

His arms were still crossed in front of his chest, keeping his position in front of the desk.

"I know…" your voice came out a little smaller this time.

Ratio sighed, he didn't change his position or expression, on the other hand, yours became somewhat more tense, you already knew that he was far from finished.

"Not only that," he continued to speak, his voice now more demanding.

"You don't usually answer my questions as intelligently as you should. You answer in ways that are almost as unintelligent as the others." he spoke again, his voice slightly higher than before.

"You know you should study more."

Again, a tone that seemed somewhat irritated.

"I am,"

"You're not." Ratio continued, his voice suddenly became very firm.

You can't help but feel even more self-conscious, more tensed than before.

He was right, even if he was, he didn't always have to say it that way.

"I don't even know why you're still in this class, if you've answered right a small percentage of times."

"But i'm trying, Ratio," You spoke, this time directing yourself towards him as your equal, as you did in private.

"Trying," He repeated. "You are just not trying hard enough."

Ratio's hands now moved from his chest, to his sides, still leaning against the table.

That didn't seem to change his expression at all, the same seriousness.

"You need to study more, you need to stop falling behind so much, to be more firm, and at least,"

He stopped, for a few seconds, as if thinking of his next words.

"To answer my questions correctly more times than you already do, stop with this mediocrity."

His tone became almost more severe.

"Honestly, I don't know why you don't take your time to pay more attention." He continued, with that severe, demanding tone.

"You're not in your old secondary education anymore, these are more complex medical concepts to treat complex diseases."

He said again, still keeping his tone and position.

"I'm going to try harder," you said.

"You better."

Ratio's answer was short, but the seriousness with which it was given almost made you even more tensed.

Again, a few seconds of silence, Ratio seemed to be thinking of his next words.

"I'm going to start being more demanding with you…" he spoke, leaning a little more against the desk, his eyes still fixed on you.

"I won't let you pass with the bare minimum in my classes" The feeling you have after you hear those words is the most nervous of all.

Ratio always got that demanding, and hard tone when talking to you about studies.

You know perfectly how serious he was when he said that.

"I won't go easy on you anymore," he says, in a much firmer tone.

"From now on if you don't answer correctly more times than you do now, you won't pass my classes."

Ratio was very strict with his classes, and even more so when it came to you.

"No more mediocre answers, I want you to start actually using that brain that you have." His tone now very demanding.

"You are going to start giving more intelligent answers, and not stupid ones that any other student could give."

A few days have passed since that talk between you and Ratio.

He has become much more demanding, and much stricter with his classes.

His questions were much harder to answer, and he always waited for intelligent answers from you.

He had put you in the spotlight every time you were in class, he had increased the number of questions he asked you, and every time you answered, he seemed to be analyzing your every word.

But of course, you noticed, in your nervousness after saying 'medium-great' answers, how your classmates didn't answers difficult questions like you. Not to mention that there were always two or one student whom he always congratulated for her efforts.

Ratio continued with the same demanding attitude, continuing to set high standards for you.

He kept asking you difficult questions, and even if you answered one correctly, he would go on to another, more complex one.

He didn't miss a single opportunity to point out your failures, and you could always see the satisfaction on his face, whenever you got the answer wrong.

Even now, you can feel his gaze on you, as if he's waiting for you to say something wrong, to see him frown.

The way he seemed to be always focused on you in the class, no matter how hard you answered the questions.

Everyone could tell that even though you were his partner, he didn't spare you from his demands for answers.

You had to constantly use that huge book, and study more and more every day. It was becoming tiresome because you barely had time for anything else, and on the other hand, your classmates seemed to be studying less than you.

The bell for the end of class had just been rung, the majority of the class was already picking their stuff to leave.

But you knew very well that Ratio was still there waiting for you to approach.

And yes, you were going to do that.

With calm steps and somewhat anxious, you approached the large desk near the board.

"Uhm, Veritas?" You said, carefully.

"Can we eat together?" You asked, knowing that after this class he would no longer dictate another one in the day, and you too, had no other class for today.

Ratio was sorting through some papers, putting them in various folders on his desk, with that same serious expression he had the rest of the time.

When he heard your voice, he stopped sorting papers, and looked at you.

His eyes seemed sharper every time you looked into them.

Without taking his eyes off you, he placed the last folder in place, and rested his hands on the table.

He didn't answer immediately, as if he was thinking about your request.

"Is there a reason?"

Ratio's tone was somewhat firm, his eyes still fixed on you, as if questioning why you, out of nowhere, suddenly wanted to eat with him.

"No,"

You didn't really know why, either.

Maybe it was because you didn't want to be left alone. Or maybe because you needed a break, your brain had been filled with so much knowledge, so much information that you felt it was going to explode.

"I just want to be with you," Your voice coming out a little more nervous this time.

Ratio was still looking at you, his eyes, very much analyzing you, as if he was searching for a real reason.

It was always like this with him, he never answered anything immediately.

Still, he didn't take his eyes off you, as if he was analyzing your thoughts, your request, and your every action.

Finally, after a few seconds, he spoke.

"Did you study?" He spoke, with that demanding but firm tone. His gaze was still fixed on you.

Your body slightly tensed up. You knew that if you hadn't, he probably wouldn't eat with you.

Even if he was your boyfriend, he was always like this.

"I did," Your voice came out with a small firmness, you actually spent the night studying.

Ratio kept looking at you carefully, his expression didn't change, he seemed to still be analyzing you, as if searching for lies in your eyes.

"How many hours?" His tone was still demanding, but he always made sure to correct you, to be even firmer with his words.

On the other hand, you were getting nervous. It was true that you spent all night studying, you didn't even have time to sleep, but if you said that, he would probably make you feel guilty for it.

So to not prolong the question, you gave a firm answer.

"Six hours, I swear."

Your voice was still firm, but nervousness was clearly expressed in it.

Ratio didn't change his expression, his eyes were still fixed on you, as if he could tell if you were lying or not.

He kept looking at you, in those few seconds he didn't say anything. Still looking at you, until he broke the silence.

"You haven't slept any?" His tone was much more demanding this time, his brows slightly furrowed, as if telling you that it was a mistake.

You knew perfectly well that it was a mistake, you already regretted it the moment you said it.

A small feeling of guilt took hold of your body, knowing that you were about to be scowled for that.

"No…"

You said, trying to keep your voice somewhat firm, but nervousness was present in it.

Ratio crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his eyes became more severe, almost with annoyance at your answer.

You knew perfectly well that that would happen.

"How are you going to study properly if you don't even sleep?" He questioned, in a demanding tone, as usual.

If you didn't sleep, he would scold you and if you slept, he would scold you too.

At the endings, it happened, as always, you even shed a few tears.

And it seems that that gave him remorse and he ended up agreeing to eat with you.

Your eyes were somewhat swollen, not much, but they were.

He made sure to hold your hand while eating quietly in a cafe near medical school.

You could notice how he was looking at your eyes almost every second, as if seeing the tiredness in them.

He almost looked like he felt guilty for making you cry, but he would deny it.

Ratio knew how demanding he could be, and how it could affect you.

But of course, he didn't apologize, because that would imply admitting that he was wrong.

You could see how he squeezed your hand, carefully while eating, as if making sure that your hand wouldn't slip from his.

It was quite obvious that he felt regret for making you cry. No matter how hard he denied it, his actions and his grip on your hand would always give it away.

The rest of the lunch was a little quiet, both of you only spoke a few words from time to time, not a lot.

He still continued to eat in silence, watching you from time to time.

His grip was firm on your hand, a little tight, but it didn't bother you, it was rather calming for you.

When he finished eating, he got up, and pulled you to get up from your chair.

He still had a firm grip on your hand.

"Let's go." Was the only thing he said, as he started to walk out of the cafeteria with you, your hand still attached to his.

Ratio started walking, with you following behind with your hand in his.

He wasn't walking too fast, or very slow, he was walking at a reasonable pace, but he made sure that you kept up.

He pulled you to stick to his side, and he made sure to look at you every few seconds.

You were walking in almost total silence, no one dared to say anything, and this was a little strange. Normally he was the first to say something.

His tight grip on your hand, his way of looking at you from time to time, made you feel a little nervous, but at the same time calm.

He didn't say anything as he walked, but you dared to say something.

"Where are we going?" You asked quietly, looking up slightly at him as you walked.

He looked at you, and his grip squeezed yours a little. Ratio spoke again.

"To my apartment." He replied, in the same firm tone.

"To your apartment?" You were a bit startled by that answer, because there was no way he was taking you to his apartment.

"Don't be tense." Ratio said, his tone was somewhat firm, but softer than before.

Before you could say anything else, he continued to speak, his words were firm and demanding, almost leaving no room for questioning.

"We're going to there, you're going to take a shower, and then you're going to take a long nap.

"I don't-"

Before you could reply, Ratio quickly cut you off. "I don't care what you're about to say, you need to rest."

He spoke with that firm but authoritative tone.

"You're going to take a damn shower, and you're going to take a damn nap for as long as it takes to get you back in shape."

In a way, that made you smile.

His actions showed you that he still cared about you.

The last few days that had passed, were… very different. You spent them at Ratio's apartment.

Each day ended with him scolding you for studying so much, and falling asleep on his couch on several occasions.

You loved those moments with him, in spite of everything, you were really in love with him.

However, as quickly as those butterflies arrived in your stomach, they disappeared faster than they appeared.

"Incorrect again, Y/N,"

He said, holding his hand to the bridge of his nose.

"U-uh…" you said, feeling watched and judged by all your classmates at that moment.

You were currently in practical classes, you no longer just theorize.

"Less than a minute for the patient to bleed," he commented again, ratio, with total disapproval in his speech.

You stayed there, thinking about what to do, your mind running in circles to decide what to do.

And, without further ado, the girl that Ratio always congratulated, took her tweezers from your hands, starting to suture the patient.

You felt so stupid in that instant, the classmate that Ratio always complimented, always approved of her, even congratulated her, had just taken your tweezers from your hands.

You felt the gaze of your classmates on you. You could see that they were either feeling sorry for you, or judging you.

Ratio was silent, he looked irritated, but he wasn't scolding you.

The classmate who took the tweezers from her hands, finished suturing the patient completely, in what seemed to be a couple of seconds.

Talent always wins the effort.

"You've failed another suture." Ratio spoke, almost annoyed by your failure.

As always, whenever you made a mistake, he was always making sure to point it out, making sure to shame you in front of the rest of the class.

His disappointment was evident on his face, in his tone, his gestures.

"It's ridiculous, you can't even put a few damn stitches on a fake wound. How are you going to be a real doctor if you're always messing up everything?" His words were harsh, very much. His expression and his eyes, sharp, as always.

"You're not taking this seriously, you're making the same mistakes again and again." He continued, in the same irritated tone.

How could someone who studied so much, who spent many hours studying, fail so much? How could you fail so much, even though you spent so much time with the person who always seemed dissatisfied with you?

Your classmates' gaze, Ratio's gaze, your own self-judgment, and your frustration for being a complete failure, was too much. You felt your eyes begin to tear up, you could feel your hands shaking. You felt more and more nervous with every word coming out of his mouth. It wasn't just from the pressure, it was also from the frustration.

How was it possible, that he had so much patience, and complimented your classmate, even celebrated that she could suturate a patient, when you couldn't do the same?

His words, his looks of disappointment, they were starting to take their toll on you.

"You're right, doctor," you said, accepting his words, so that he would at least stop scolding you publicly. Ratio kept looking at you, that annoyed look still on his face.

You looked really small in his eyes. Small and weak, a complete failure. That's how he saw you at that moment.

"At this rate, I'm tempted to say that you're never going to be a good doctor."

You just nodded, not knowing what to answer, or if you should respond to that in the first place. The medical career was not easy, there were always scolding for everyone, but not scolding all classes with him.

You heard him say, 'Well, let's continue…', as he moved on to another kind of exercise.

You let your other classmates get closer to the practice stretcher, staying at the end of the group.

All you just did was play with your fingers and bite your lip, so you didn't cry. Because you couldn't even get out of the practice chirophan, because you'd have low grade. Although well, what a lower grade could he put on you if you already pulled the first exercise.

You looked up in the direction of Ratio, who was correcting a couple of your classmates on something. He was always correcting something, especially you.

Your eyes were beginning to become slightly red.

You really hated the suturations practices, you were never good at putting in a few damn stitches.

You were always clumsy, and your hands always trembled when you took the tweezers, like they were shaking now.

Why weren't you as talented as them? Why couldn't you even do something as simple as suturing?

"You're shaking, are you alright?" A voice came from behind you, you recognized who it was immediately.

It was the classmate who always did sutures perfectly, the one Ratio always complimented. She had a worried expression in her eyes, but you couldn't help but feel complete rejection and repulsion towards her.

Her question made you feel more humiliated.

"I'm fine." You replied, trying to sound firm, when in reality, your voice was on the verge of cracking.

She looked at you, not seeming to buy the answer you gave her.

She could see your hands shaking and you were biting your lip, it didn't seem like you were fine.

"Are you sure? You don't look very-" she tried to speak once more, but you didn't want her to continue.

"I said I'm fine, alright. Stop asking me that." You said, a little harshly, hoping that would make her shut up. Her eyes widened slightly at your response, she was surprised by your response. But, instead of being angry, she continued to look sorry for you.

"I'm just trying to-" she was about to say something again, but you were already fed up with her.

You were fucking jealous of her.

"Well, I don't want you to! Stop acting like you care about me!" You snapped at her, your voice louder than you expected it to be.

The rest of the class had turned their heads at you, including Ratio.

Why the hell did you do that?

The whole room was silent, the only noise present was your agitated breathing.

Ratio walked up to you, his eyes firmly on yours. He looked irritated, no, he looked angry at your reaction.

"To the hallway, now." He said firmly, gesturing for you to walk towards the hall.

You felt the eyes of your classmates on you, as you slowly walked out of the class, with Ratio behind you.

Once you got into the hallway, he closed the door behind him, leaving both of you alone in the hallway.

He looked at you, you could see irritation in his eyes.

He was completely irritated with the attitude you just had.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He said, his voice almost sounded like a whisper, but still firm.

"Why the hell did you lash out at her like that?" He continued, he was waiting for an answer, an explanation for your behavior, and he wouldn't accept any bullshit excuse.

You stood there, not knowing what to say, and avoiding looking directly at him.

You didn't know how to explain your attitude, you yourself didn't even understand why you had done that.

Maybe it was because you were irritated, annoyed by her, or just because Ratio paid more attention to her or others than to you, no matter how much you studied.

And you couldn't understand why that girl was always so perfect either. The perfect student, the one who always did the exercises and sutures perfectly.

You were increasingly sure that talent far outperforms effort.

As you stood there, avoiding looking at him, Ratio was growing more and more impatient as the minutes passed. He expected some explanation, an answer to his question. But all he got was silence and you avoiding his gaze.

"Are you going to answer or just stay there, biting your lip?" He spoke again, this time with a firmer tone.

Again, you stayed there, still and saying nothing.

"Okay, then," he said, entering the practice chirophan and closing the door behind him.

You stood there, outside the practice chirophan, alone, on your own, with only your thoughts swirling around your head. You could still hear your classmates continuing practicing suturing in the chirophan, while you were left outside.

Your mind was a mess, going from one thought to another, from one feeling to another; anger, frustration, confusion, disappointment.

And jealousy. A lot of jealousy.

You could hear Ratio's voice, scolding other students. And again, you heard him compliment the girl who always does sutures perfectly.

She was talented, she was perfect, the best student in his eyes. He seemed to adore her, much more than he praised you.

It was not possible to know with that man, he was a mystery.

You walked over and sat down on one of the seats in the hallway, your body completely tired. Both physically and mentally.

Poor girl, you were jealous of her, when not even she did it on purpose to be better than you.

The lesson was finally over.

You were sitting in the hallway, waiting for the whole class to leave, so you could enter and say something to Ratio.

But, to your annoyance, the girl who always did the perfect sutures, was one of the last to leave.

She was going to talk to Ratio, it was obvious.

So, you stayed in the hallway, watching as Ratio and that girl talked for a long time.

She looked happy, with a smile on her face. Ratio seemed in a good mood, he was listening to her speaking calmly. In fact, he was smiling, he was never usually that warm.

That image, that situation, it only irritated your mind more.

But you wouldn't do anything, because there was nothing to do.

Besides that in medical school, he was your teacher, not your boyfriend. So professionalism on his part was always ahead.

As the last student left, Ratio opened the practice chirophan and found you sitting on one of the seats in the hallway.

He looked at you, and for the first time, he had a slight hint of disappointment on his face.

He just looked at you for a few seconds, almost as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't.

He just let out a slight, silent, almost inaudible sigh.

"Come here." He said, gesturing to you to walk towards him.

You stood up, from the seat. You were about to walk towards him but, you suddenly felt nervous, your heart beating a little faster.

What if he wants to discuss that you're always getting low notes on the practical work?

Or maybe he wants to tell you that your effort is useless, because you'll never be as good as the other students.

Or even, he wants to kick you out of class for your recent behavior.

However, his words surprised you.

"I'm going to help you study," he said.

You really expected another scolding from him, but his words were soft.

Perhaps the excellent work of the best student in your class had change his mood.

"But I don't-"

Before you could respond, he cut you off, almost knowing what you were going to answer.

"I wasn't asking you, I was telling you." He said firmly.

He wasn't leaving room for questioning, if he was going to help you study, there was no use in trying to decline his offer.

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but get excited.

The thought of having his attention, and having an extra private class with him. You were really going to like it, you wanted to be alone with him.

In a way, it was a great opportunity to show him what you were capable of doing, and that you too had potential.

He gave you a small smile, as he saw the reaction on your face. And then he added, "We're starting today."

…

You liked being next to him, you feel like at school, almost like a teenage romance.

You were writing carefully what he explained to you, while he had an arm on your shoulders.

It moved you and made you nervous, even though your relationship was almost two years now.

He explained, corrected and commented, as usual. You nodded, listened and wrote what he said.

Everything was going well, until he suddenly paused, and he let out a sigh.

"There's something important I need to tell you." He said, suddenly, in a serious tone.

Your hands suddenly froze halfway between the page and writing. His words, his tone, his gaze. It made you feel nervous, your heartbeat increasing.

"What is it?"

Your voice came out in a somewhat nervous tone.

For a few seconds, he was serious, he didn't say anything, he just looked at you.

His eyes looking into yours, in a somewhat serious and intimidating way, before his expression suddenly change to one of slight annoyance.

"What the hell was that, what you did the other day?"

Ratio asked, suddenly changing the subject of the conversation.

You tensed up a bit, and bit your lip.

You knew immediately that he was referring to the little tantrum you threw, that day.

"I was…" you were at a loss for words, you didn't know what to say.

"I was just frustrated." You finally managed to say, your voice a bit low.

"Frustrated, right."

Ratio responded, in a slightly mocking tone.

"So you were frustrated, and you decided to take it out on a classmate, in front of the entire class?" Ratio looked at you, with that same serious and slightly annoyed expression.

Your heart was beating fast, you felt slightly guilty, knowing you acted inappropriately.

"I know it wasn't the best way to react, but…" you tried to explain yourself.

"No buts." He cut you off. "You embarrassed yourself, and you embarrassed me with your poor and childish behavior. As your teacher, I shouldn't have to deal with your tantrums.

His words stung a little, you felt ashamed.

But there was something else, behind his words. The mention of 'As your teacher'.

"I know, I'm sorry." You mumbled, looking down to the floor.

"I expect you to act like an adult. So I hope you'll apologize to your classmate." He said.

"I will."

You said, still avoiding his gaze, you didn't want to see his eyes, to see his expression.

That day wasn't the only one he helped you study on.

But as always, for him, everything was wrong in answers or in your diagnoses.

As you wrote down one of the last points of the list he had given you, he spoke up, looking at what you had written.

"That is incorrect," he said as he looked at one of the points.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide at his words. How could it have been wrong? The doubt began to consume your mind, and you felt frustrated that you weren't able to do everything perfectly.

Your frustration was beginning to grow, you had just spent hours studying and here he was telling you that you had all the things wrong.

You tried to protest, you tried to explain your answers, but he shut you down every time. His voice became sharper and firmer every time, he was losing patience with you and your constant mistakes.

Finally, he slammed the book on the table, the loud noise echoing through the empty room.

"That's it, enough. You're not getting anything right," he said, his voice stern.

You felt a pang in your chest from hearing his words. How was it possible that not a single thing you wrote was correct? Why couldn't you understand the concepts? Why were you always making mistakes?

Your hands began to tremble as you clutched the pen in your hand, your heart beating fast

You wanted to scream out in frustration and ask him why you weren't getting the answers right, but you knew he wouldn't be patient with you anymore.

"You should try harder, I'm going to do an exam on these topics for you all," he said.

And yes, you had to study alone, as you normally did.

But you didn't really understand why you didn't get any answers right.

Literally that's what books said, your answers were even the same.

So, what was happening to you?

That test was going to be in a week, and you were extremely stressed about it.

You had to prepare for the exam given by Ratio, but it wasn't easy. Despite reading the material multiple times, something wasn't clicking in your head.

The formulas, the methods, the diagnoses, nothing stayed in your head. And when you attempted to answer the questions, you found yourself making mistake after mistake.

After studying a few nights on your own, it was time to take the exam.

The day of the exam had arrived.

The atmosphere in the classroom was tense, everyone seemed nervous. You were shaking, your hands trembling as you clutched the pen. Everyone around you seemed to understand the material, but you were struggling.

Ratio started handing out the test sheets to each one of you, until he reached your desk.

He placed the paper in front of you, and your breathing hitched.

You dared to hold your gaze on his, for at least a while, looking for some security that he could give you.

But there was no security in his gaze.

He didn't give you any special look, no secret glance or anything that could make you feel more confident.

His expression seemed serious, almost like a challenge. It was clear that he expected nothing from you, to his eyes you weren't going to do the test well.

He knew it, and you knew it.

And as he finished handing them out, he spoke.

"You have an hour to finish. Start now." He announced, before going back to his desk.

You looked down at the questions, and your heart sank.

They were difficult, they were complex, and they were things you had never seen before.

You felt your hands begin to sweat, and your mind went blank. You tried to recall the information you had studied, but it was like trying to remember a forgotten dream.

The other students around you seemed to have no trouble with the test, they were already beginning to answer the questions.

But you, on the other hand, were stuck on the first question. The words and numbers on the page became a blur, your mind in complete mess.

As minutes passed, you found yourself still struggling with the first question. Meanwhile, other classmates were already on the second or third.

The pressure was immense. You tried to focus, you tried to concentrate. But your mind was racing, your heart was pounding in your chest.

You could hear the sound of the other students' pens on the papers, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the silence of the classroom.

Every sound seemed to echo in your head and only added to your anxiety.

Time was ticking by quickly, and you could feel your anxiety growing with each passing minute.

You had already spent 45 minutes on one question, and you hadn't even reached the halfway point.

Until you saw some of your classmates raise their hand so that Ratio could approach them and answer their doubts about some questions.

They were getting help, while you just sat there, panicking.

You wanted to raise your hand, to ask for help, just like the other students.

But you didn't do it, you didn't dare to. You felt too ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you were having so much trouble with the test.

You just continued staring at the exam, trying to decipher the questions.

And, with only 4 questions out of 20, you dared to raise your hand as well, so that he can get closer as well.

You looked up a little bit on your exam, watching it approach students back and forth.

Your still hand raised, you even moved it a little bit, to see it.

And so he did, he saw you for a few seconds, before approaching another of your classmates.

Your heart sank again.

You couldn't believe what had just happened.

He knew you were struggling, he saw you with your hand raised. But despite that he avoided you and went to answer someone else's doubts.

You felt a pang of pain in your chest, like a stinging realization.

Ratio didn't want to help you, he was ignoring you.

You weren't like the good students, the ones he always said were talented. You were just the one who couldn't understand anything, no matter how hard you tried.

You lowered your hand again, feeling humiliated.

With your cheeks somewhat red from shame, you lowered your gaze towards your exam, almost empty.

You tried to do it, you really tried.

Without realizing it, your eyesight was blurred, as you continued to try to write down what you found most coherent.

You were crying in the middle of the exam. But what a shame.

Well, at least you didn't sob, you just let the tears slip out of your eyes, because because your head was somewhat tilted down, it was more accessible for the tears to come out.

The time passed, and the other students handed in the exam sheets, one by one. And you were still on your seat, trying to come up with at least a minimum of sense.

The tension in the room grew with each passing minute.

You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze, even if no one was looking at you directly. It was like everyone was silently waiting for you to finish, to see if you could do it or not.

But the answer to that was becoming more and more evident with every passing minute.

And yet, you still tried, you tried so hard to write something.

You felt a knot forming in your throat as you tried to hold back your tears, but it was difficult.

Ratio's words echoed in your head again, "You should try a little harder."

How much harder did he wanted you to try? You were already struggling to keep up, and now you were literally crying.

With all your effort, you managed to answer some more questions. But still, the test paper looked almost blank.

Many of your answers were incorrect, even if you had tried your best.

When the time finally ran out, Ratio spoke up.

"Time's up," he said in his usual strict tone, standing up from his desk. "Those of you who haven't handed in your sheets, do so now."

You felt a wave of dread wash over you. You were one of the few who still had the papers on their desk.

Slowly, you raised your head to see that almost everyone else had already handed their papers to him.

With shaking hands, you gathered the papers on your desk and got up.

Your legs felt weak, but you somehow managed to make your way to the desk.

Ratio was there, waiting for your paper. He looked slightly indifferent, as if he was expecting this outcome.

You handed him the sheets with trembling hands, feeling a sense of shame and embarrassment. The weight of your poor performance was heavy on you, and you avoided meeting his gaze.

He took the papers without a word, and as he did, your eyes darted down to the answers on the paper.

You could see his expression of disappointment.

…

And it was worse than what you imagined.

Red marks and crosses were all over the page, almost each answer was incorrect.

After a week, he returned the exams to everyone in the classroom.

You didn't know how to hide your grade from the students sitting near you.

There was a big 0 on the exam cover.

A 0, no points at all. You had failed the test completely, and the evidence was there, for everyone to see.

The shame and humiliation hit you like a wave. Everyone was looking at their grades, comparing them and discussing among themselves. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

Ratio spoke up again, drawing everyone's attention. "As you can see, the results of the exam were… Disappointing."

He said, his eyes skimming over the class.

His eyes landed on some students, commenting on their good grades.

"But, there were some good grades. Congratulations to those who did well." He spoke, in a matter-of-fact tone.

You knew you'd never be like them.

When he finished the class, it was relatively short, as most of the time it was used to solve the exam together.

You rushed to grab your stuff by keeping your exam in your bag, before you left the big classroom, feeling nauseous.

The rest of the day passed by, but the shame and humiliation from the exam still lingered. You couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment, and the thought that you were the worst in the class.

You tried to avoid your classmates' gazes, fearing they would whisper or make fun of you.

The hours went by slowly, until the day had ended. You found yourself walking back home, feeling down, with your head hung low.

And then, you suddenly heard a voice calling out to you. "Y/N," the familiar voice said, and you froze.

You knew who it was.

Slowly, you turned around to see Ratio standing there, a few metres away from you. His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on you. Your heart started racing again, and you nervously clutched your bag strap tighter. What did he want?

He walked closer to you, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

He stopped a few steps away from you, looking down at you.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, his voice firm. You swallowed hard, nodding silently.

You were too afraid to speak, your throat was dry, as if you had never swallowed saliva again.

He motioned for you to follow him, as he walked towards a quieter part of the hallway, where there were less classroms.

Finally, he stopped in a quieter spot, turning to look at you.

He looked directly into your eyes for a moment, his gaze intense.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke, his voice softer than usual.

"I suppose you know why I wanted to talk to you," he began, tilting his head slightly.

You nodded again, knowing what he wanted to talk about. The failed exam.

"Yes…" you whispered, your voice barely heard.

He let out a small sigh.

"Your performance on the exam… It was quite unsatisfactory."

His words were straightforward, he didn't hide his disappointment.

Your heart sank even further.

He was saying what you already knew, what he already wrote on the paper of red marks and crosses.

"I didn't expect much, to be completely honest. But I didn't expect such…bad results." He added, raising an eyebrow.

His words hurt, but you didn't say anything, you just stood there, looking down.

"I just don't understand," he continued, "I made sure to explain the concepts thoroughly. Why did you fail so badly?"

His tone was serious, he really wanted an answer from you.

"I really don't know," you mumble. Ratio let out a small huff, clearly not satisfied with your answer.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying you.

"You know, I've been teaching for years. I've seen many students who struggle, but not to this extent. You weren't able to answer any question correctly."

"I wanted help, Ratio," you said, again, muttering.

And yes, you tried to raise your hand so that he could also approach you that time, but he just looked at you and didn't come close.

You looked up weakly toward his eyes, holding his gaze a few seconds.

"I tried to ask for help from you, I raised my hand, but you ignored me," you confessed, your voice almost breaking.

He was silent for a moment, his expression slightly changing.

He seemed a little surprised that you had mentioned that.

He was about to open his mouth to speak, but then your voice spoke up again.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" You said, with a hurt voice, and your eyes started to feel moist.

His expression softened slightly. He wasn't expecting that question.

He saw the tears forming in your eyes, and his stern expression wavered for a second.

"No, I don't think you're stupid." He finally said, his voice slightly lower.

He paused for a moment before speaking again.

"But I can't deny that I'm...disappointed. I had hoped for more progress."

Your lower lip trembled slightly as you heard his words.

Disappointed. Of course, he was. Because you were the worst in the class, the one who couldn't understand anything no matter how hard you tried.

The one who would never be able to answer a question correctly.

"…I know…" you whispered.

You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they started rolling down your cheeks.

"But i'm trying my best. I swear I am," you said, your voice shaking.

Ratio didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at you, almost as if he was contemplating your words, your expression and your tears.

He watched as you cried softly, the tears running silently down your face.

He seemed to think for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice softer than before.

"I know you're trying," he admitted, and his tone wasn't as harsh as usual.

He let out a small sigh.

"But 'trying' isn't enough. You're always lagging behind. You never catch up. You need to do something different."

Your heart felt heavy, and your shoulders slumped slightly.

He was right, your 'trying' wasn't enough. It never was.

You heard him sigh, before you didn't realize it, his hands were on your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs on these to clean the tears.

"I want you to succeed,"

His touch was gentle, his thumb wiping away your tears softly.

You looked up at him, his expression was serious but not cold as usual.

"But you have to work harder for that." He spoke, his hands still on your wet cheeks. "You're smart, but clearly something is missing."

As his hands continued on your cheeks, you froze, feeling the unexpected touch.

He was wiping your tears, a gesture of… comfort?

At this point, you already believed his words.

'You're not giving everything about yourself'

'Study more'

'Try harder'

Everything that came out of your mind and mouth was wrong for him.

You sat on the small bench on the rooftop of medical school. That place had been your peacetime.

You found yourself again, frustrated, as you had the book open on your lap, with tears about to escape your eyelids.

That until someone else's footsteps resounded on the ground.

Which made you immediately turn your head.

"I knew I'd find you here," the familiar voice said. You turned to see Ratio, walking over to the bench and sitting next to you.

"The same place, for the third time this week," he added, his expression a mixture of concern and something else.

You wiped the tears from your eyes quickly, not wanting him to see you like this. But it was too late, he had already noticed.

He glanced at the open book on your lap, a small frown on his face.

"Still struggling?" He asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You just nodded.

You saw him sigh, before he took out a kind of sweet bread packaged.

"Here, eat this," he said, as he gave you what he had in his hand.

He knew you liked those sweet breads.

With resignation, you took the bread, and you took off the wrapper, starting to eat it, while you felt like you were going to cry again.

Ratio watched you eat silently, his eyes fixed on you.

He saw the tears still gleaming in your eyes, but you were trying to hold them back.

He let out a sigh, his expression seemed to be contemplating something.

Without saying anything, he moved closer to you, getting nearer.

He was so close, you could count the number of eyelashes he had.

He leaned towards you, and his hand raised to touch your cheek and so he did, stroking your face for a moment, before he laid a kiss on your temple.

The unexpected kiss on your forehead made your body tense up for a moment, surprise filling you.

The action was uncharacteristic as he was acting in a way he never did in the past.

You slowly turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression held a hint of affection.

He was still so close to you. So close that he could easily touch you again.

The simple contact of his, made the accumulated tears of before, fall down your cheeks.

You stuck your body to him, even chewing sweet bread. You had a frown, like you used to have now.

As you put your phone next to you, after dialing your boyfriend's number.

You keep looking at the practice sheet, gently banging the pen against the table.

It took him a few seconds for him to answer your call.

"What's wrong?" Ratio asked once he answered the phone.

You took a deep breath before speaking, trying to sound a little calm, but failing miserably.

"I'm stuck again," you confessed, frustration evident in your voice.

"You'll need to do this by yourself, this time." He said, and his voice was firm.

You felt another stab in the chest.

"But I-"

"No buts. You need to learn how to figure things out on your own. You can't always depend on me."

Another stab. Like a dagger.

Yes, the same thing happened again.

You were somewhat desperate, as your last exams went wrong and you only approved a few with the minimum note. And basically you needed 140 percent of 100 percent to pass.

The only thing that could save you would be the practical part, but you didn't even manage to master that.

You knew he was right, but that didn't make you feel any better.

You looked up at him with a sad expression, but all he did was look at you with his usual frown.

"You're not a kid anymore. You need to start taking responsibility for your own learning," he said.

You knew he was right, you knew you couldn't always rely on him. But it was hard to accept.

Especially when he was always so dedicated and patient with others.

"Being your boyfriend doesn't mean you have more priority or advantages,"

You felt your throat tighten, you had a lump in your throat.

But he continued speaking.

"I'm your teacher, first of all. And I should be as impartial as possible."

You knew that, you truly knew that.

How you wished that he would treat you differently from others just because, you didn't want any privileges, or anything like that.

You just wanted his attention, his help, his care. But all you got were cold remarks, like a teacher talking to a stupid student.

Oh, but you would remember her words whenever you were tempted to ask her for help.

And again, you believed his words.

He was right, it wouldn't be fair for others to teach you the most.

So, you had to put everything in about yourself, no, more than you could give, so you could study for your exams.

Especially because they weren't just any exam, they were almost a preview of the endings, and if you didn't pass all of them, you wouldn't have any hope of being able to pass the courses.

Because you need more note than you can normally get, that is, something impossible.

In total there were 6 courses, that of Ratio and that of other teachers. That in their classes you didn't do so badly, but you weren't the best either. you approved with scores between minimums to media.

You looked down, your fingers tightening on the edge of the desk.

"I know," you mumbled, feeling a lump in your throat.

He was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice a little softer this time.

"I'm tough on you because I know you can do it," he said.

Your eyesight focused on the chemistry test, it was the first exam of the week, so you were, or at least you felt, that you were ready.

When you left the exam, begging you to do well, you had to eat a granola bar, while you were walking down the hallways, looking for your other classroom.

You couldn't see Ratio before you took the first exam, because you were going to be a little late.

Once you sat at the desk, with the pharmacology test in your hands, you started putting on paper the things you remembered, so you didn't forget.

It was two long hours, which you managed to finish and leave the classroom, completely tired.

But when you get home, you couldn't sleep, because you had to prepare for your other exams.

As you sat in front of your desk, it was already almost 10 pm.

And you were still studying.

Your eyes tired because of the many books you had looked through, and your arms aching slightly because of writing so much.

You were tired, but you couldn't afford to take a rest. You had to study for the other exams. You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes.

How long had you been studying now? An hour or two? You weren't even sure.

In the last few hours, you were studying for your other exams, including Public Health, Medicine 3, Clinical psychiatry, Laboratory diagnosis and the course in which Ratio will be present, Surgery 1.

Of some of those exams, most of them were written, the two of practice would be the same day.

You didn't dare send a single message to Ratio.

Or well, it's not that you didn't want to, you were too tired at this point.

You barely got out of the exam where you had to be in the lab, your eyelids every time threatened to close.

Now you had the exam.

You were scared, you even sweated from your nerves.

When you arrived at the respective practice chirophan, where all your colleagues would be taking the exam, your eyesight discouraged you.

They all looked somewhat tense, as they walked back and forth, muttering to themselves, what you assumed was what they learned in class.

You waited outside, along with them, before Ratio made them pass them all, to start the exam.

This consisted even the right only disinfected was also qualified, which made you tense. Although the cold water when washing your hands and arms helped you wake up a little.

Your breathing intensified.

Ratio stood in the middle of the room, and you tried to focus your vision properly.

He looked in your direction, for a second, his eyes on you.

Maybe he'd noticed how tired you were, but he remained silent. He just looked at you for a second, before looking back at everyone else.

And he began to speak.

"You all know how this works," he began, his voice firm and authoritative. "Each of you will take turns performing on a dummy patient."

You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to calm your nerves.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, as you watched your classmates take turns performing the practical exams.

Every time someone finished, Ratio inspected their work and gave them feedback.

You could see the serious expression on his face, his eyes never leaving the students as they performed.

Finally, it was your turn. You approached the dummy patient, your hands slightly trembling.

Ratio stood a few feet away, watching you.

When you started the exam, you tried to be as perfect as possible.

You tried to calm down, which was a bit difficult. Your hands was shaking.

'Try to breathe slowly, it will help you.'

That was what Ratio told you, and he was always right.

You tried to repeat in your head the steps you had to take to complete the exam.

You took a few deep breaths, in and out.

And finally, you began.

You feel much more pressure when you felt your classmates behind, that you were taking turns with when you performed a simple little surgery.

You started with shaky hands, to make cuts in the internal tissues of the skin, little by little. Being totally attentive to the sound of the cardiac monitor, listening to the pulsations and occasionally seeing the pressure level in the 'patient'.

You could even feel the sweat on the palms of your hands inside the latex gloves. It's good that you always had to put on 2 or 3 for these practices, because otherwise, you would have contaminated everything with your sweat.

You continued the process, trying to block out the thoughts that were flying through your mind.

'You need a good score.'

'You can't fail.'

'This is your last exam.'

'If you do this well, you can finally talk to him without worrying.'

Trying to ignore the pressure, you continued to take each step carefully.

The instructions for your colleagues you should take turns with were clear, anyone who distracts or talks to the person who is performing the practice with the 'patient' will immediately cancel the exam.

And that's why, because of the more impotence or frustration of your peers when they see your patient's heart level when they enter a state of shock because they had touched a vital organ, it was something that went unnoticed by you. Because you had fallen asleep.

What suddenly woke you up was the same alert from the monitors, who let out a loud noise.

Shit.

By the time you saw the monitor, the pressure was in the skies, not to mention that now the pulsations were going down drastically.

Without realizing it, as you had been sleeping in your place, you pricked the 'patient' stomach with the scalpel.

Fuck.

Your eyes widened in shock.

You were still a bit dizzy from sleep, and your reflexes were very slow.

And from behind, you could hear more murmurs, some of your classmates, while others let out a hiss or a swear word. And you could feel the pressure in your chest at what had just happened.

You tried to make a suture, but by that time it was too late.

You had damaged a vital organ, which you shouldn't even do.

In fear, you turned to the monitor, that now the rhythm was a single beep, indicating that the 'patient' had died.

You stayed there, feeling pressured by the looks of your classmates behind you, now they had not been able to take their exam.

And the gaze of Ratio, who was standing in front of you, which only made things worse.

He stood in the same position, his eyes staring at you. And you could only think of what he must have been thinking at that moment.

You tried to remain calm, but you knew that was impossible, your breathing was shaky, and you even felt your legs trembling.

You couldn't stand the stares, you could feel the gazes of your colleagues on your back. Judging and analyzing everything you had done.

"You failed this exam roundly." was the only thing he said, before guiding your peers to another side in the chirophan so they can take their exam, with a heart rate 'patient'.

You felt a pang of panic, your hands still trembling from the previous episode.

'You failed this exam roundly.' those words still echoed in your mind.

You knew it was the truth, there was no way you could deny it. You messed up big time.

'Everyone is going to hate me now. They're all going to think I'm stupid. I'm not fit to be a doctor. I'm not fit to be anything.'

These were the thoughts that raced through your mind.

You had been unveiling yourself so that you could study well for your other exams, that this was the only thing you didn't have in mind that could happen.

Your eyes looked to the floor, you were ashamed, you were embarrassed by your own performance. You had failed at something so simple.

Something you'd studied for hours. You even feel somewhat prepared to be able to do it.

Ratio stayed where he was, watching as your classmates took their turn with 'the patient'.

But he couldn't quite take his eyes off you, he could see you were shaking, and he was sure you would start crying at any moment. But you wouldn't do that in this place, not with the presence of everyone else.

He was heading for a moment where you were.

Without paying much attention to the others, he approached you, his footsteps almost silent, and stopped right in front of you.

He looked down at you, his gaze serious.

He knew exactly what your thoughts were at the moment, he knew that all the blame you would assume would be on yourself.

After all, it was all due to your negligence, you had fallen asleep, and that had been the reason why your practice turned out to be, to say the least, a disaster.

'You tried'

'You can do better another time'

'Don't worry'

You expected that, you really expected it.

"You need to retire from the chirophan, you've finished your exam." That's what you heard from him.

Your heart squeezed.

You really thought he was going to at least say a few words of encouragement, not just that.

And the tone in which he said it just made it worse. It was clear that he was disappointed.

You could feel the lump in your throat growing, you felt that you were going to burst into tears at any moment.

Ratio was about to speak, but instead, he held his tongue.

He knew the effect his words had had on you. He knew you weren't well. But he didn't say anything, he just stood there, seeing you.

His gaze was on you, you could feel that he was analyzing you, from your eyes to your hands.

You looked like a kicked puppy.

Your shoulders were hunched, your head was down, and your hands were shaking at your sides.

With what little dignity you had left, you looked up at Ratio.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it would burst out of your chest.

Your eyes were glassy, your eyelashes wet with tears.

You moved from your place, going to the disinfection area, while you were removing your gloves, mask and other protection stuff.

Your hands never stopped shaking while you did that.

You came out of the chirophan of practices, with fear running through your body.

Your hands on your face as you tried to hide the fact that you were about to start crying.

You were walking so fast that you bumped into a few people, some who told you to slow down, but you ignored them.

Finally, you reached the bathroom, where you locked yourself in one of the cubicles, and let the tears fall down your face.

You felt pathetic. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could do it, and even more so, for falling asleep.

How could you possibly have screwed up so big? You had studied for hours, for days, for weeks.

You worked as hard as you could to try to get a passing grade.

You had given your all, only for it to end in a complete failure.

"You're not good for this." you told yourself, your voice choked with tears.

…

You waited for your boyfriend to leave his office, grabbing the strip of your bag with both your hands.

Your gaze was on the floor, seeing your shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Your red eyes, you didn't want people to see much.

The students walked around you, chatting and laughing, unaware of the turmoil you were going through. You just wanted to go back to your apartment and cry in peace.

But at least you wanted some comfort on Ratio's side, even though you knew you didn't deserve it.

You heard the sound of a door behind you opening, and you glanced up to see Ratio walking out of his office.

He didn't notice you at first, but then he turned and his gaze fell on you.

You heard him sigh heavily, before he spoke "Let's go." It wasn't a question, it was a direct order.

You didn't dare say anything, just nodded silently and walked with him.

The whole way to the exit was silent, you walked behind him, seeing his back.

The silence was heavy, you didn't dare to say anything, and he didn't say anything either.

When you arrived at his apartment he let you pass first.

As you saw him leave his things in place and turn on some lights, your mind was distracted.

Until as he started heating water in the boiler, he spoke.

"It was the worst exam I could see in my life," his voice was full of disappointment.

Your heart pounded in your chest, those words only made you feel worse.

You wanted to say something, some kind of excuse, some reason to justify what you had done.

But all that came out of your mouth was a half-broken murmur "I'm sorry"

Ratio stared at you for a moment, his gaze was cold, you felt like crying again.

"You're sorry?" He asked, almost bitterly.

"You'll tell that to your patients' relatives when you kill them by mistake?"

Your eyes widened, and you could feel your lip starting to tremble.

That was a low blow.

"I-" you tried to speak, but your voice was so shaky and broken that you could barely form words.

But he interrupted you.

"You weren't focused. You were not prepared. You were sloppy and careless" He said, without even looking at you.

His words were like a stab in the heart.

And he wasn't done yet.

"You didn't put any effort into it,"

"Yes I did," you muttered, grabbing your fingers, anxiously in your body.

Ratio turned to you, his gaze was stern and almost irritated. He had never looked at you like that before.

"You fell asleep in the middle of the practice," he said, and the disappointment in his voice was palpable.

"How the hell would you call that putting in effort?"

Your mind was racing, trying to find an answer, something to say. But the words didn't come out, the lump in your throat was too big.

"I did" you tried to say again, weakly.

"No, you didn't" he said bluntly.

"If you had, you wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake"

You couldn't help it again, the salty tears wet your cheeks.

"Yes I did, Veritas," you said, raising your voice a little while you were looking at him.

"You didn't make the slightest effort in that practice, otherwise, you wouldn't have failed so miserably"

Those words stung again, you felt that he was attacking you.

"Yes I did!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face.

"I worked my ass out for that exam. I didn't take anything for granted! I really wanted to pass!"

"I want your comfort," you sobbed.

You wanted him to tell you that you had tried, that you did put everything out of you, that it was just unfortunate situations, that you could try again later.

You wanted that, not this.

Ratio's expression softened a little at your words, and for a moment he almost looked guilty.

He was quiet a few seconds, looking at your tear-soaked face.

"Do you think hard work is enough?" He asked. "Do you think that by just studying you will pass everything?"

"That if you want something, you'll get it just by wanting it?"

You just looked at him.

"That's not how it works," he said firmly.

"You have to be more than that".

You wanted his comfort, you longed for it a lot at times like this, not to be ranted out at how bad you did it.

"You don't deserve to be consoled if you did something out of pure negligence,"

Your heart sank at his words, like he was speaking to a child.

You felt like a scolded dog.

More tears fell on your face.

"I didn't mean to make that mistake," you said, wiping your face with your sleeve. "I really tried"

Ratio approached you, his steps slow and deliberate.

"Trying is not enough" he said bluntly.

He was in front of you now, towering over you, you didn't dare to look at him in the eyes.

"In this profession, just trying is not enough"

"You're not made to be a doctor if you think that," Your breathing hitched.

Those words hurt, you wanted to shout at him, tell him he's not right, that he's wrong.

But you knew he wasn't.

Every word he was saying was true.

All this effort, all these hours you've worked, and all these sleepless nights, to fail like that, because of a stupid simple mistake.

You really were not fit to be a doctor.

Your head was lowered, and the tears still ran down.

You tried to hold them back, but failed.

"I'm tired, Veritas,"

You just wanted him to stop.

You were tired, tired of studying, tired of not getting it right.

Ratio seemed to not soften at your words, his face still showed disappointment.

"You have to try harder, you have to put aside your tiredness," he said firmly. "If you don't, you will fail again"

"If you really want this, you have to do better"

You just wanted it all to stop.

"It's not fair," you began, your voice choked by the crying that didn't stop.

"The only thing you know how to do is tell me bad things about what I do," you sobbed.

"You're supposed to be my boyfriend, not someone who criticizes me,"

You felt frustrated, the words escaping your mouth without a care.

You wanted him to comfort you, to tell you that everything was going to be okay and that you would be a perfect doctor.

But he didn't say anything. He just looked at you, his expression unchanged.

"My job isn't to soothe your ego," he said firmly.

"My job, as a boyfriend, is to help you see the faults in yourself and strive to improve"

"And it seems that you don't like that very much," he added. His voice was almost cold.

You raised your head, looking at him with wet eyes.

"You're supposed to support me" you said weakly, almost a plea.

Ratio's face didn't change, his eyes fixed on you.

"I do support you," he said.

"But I won't lie to you or sugarcoat things for you," he added.

"I don't even have ego or something that you have to soften."

Those words were like a stab to the heart.

"I'm sick of you telling me that everything I do is complete shit,"

You were shaking with frustration, tears and snot streamed down your face. You felt so angry and so desperate that you didn't know what to say.

"I'm just trying to be honest with you and make you face reality," Ratio said.

"You need to be able to handle criticism if you want to be a doctor"

You just wanted him to stop, to shut up and say something like 'you're good' or 'don't cry it's okay'.

But he didn't, he just stood there, telling you the things you didn't want to hear.

You felt like you couldn't hold back anymore, all these days, weeks, months of not saying anything was starting to weigh on you.

"You never say anything good about me," you said in a shaky voice.

"You never have a nice word for what I do"

Ratio raised an eyebrow at your words, unamused by your outburst.

"You don't deserve my compliments"

That stung.

"Especially when you fail so miserably," he added.

Your body shuddered, those words made you feel so bad.

"All other boyfriends say nice things to their partners" you murmured.

"They give their support, even when they make a mistake"

Ratio almost laughed at your words.

"Oh, so you want me to be one of those 'other boyfriends' now?" he said with a hint of irony.

"You want me to pat you on the back and say you did a good job, even when you did a bad one?"

"Do you really think that's going to help?"

His tone was almost mocking, and it made you even more upset.

You wanted to shout at him, tell him that you just wanted him to say something nice and comfort you. But the words wouldn't come out.

"I…"

You tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a choked noise.

Ratio sighed heavily, the annoyance clear in his expression.

"I can't believe you're acting like a child because you can't handle a bit of criticism"

"Do you really think that's how a doctor should behave?"

"The answers I say are the same as those of my classmates and you still tell me they're wrong," you said.

"It's not fair. I'm fed up,"

Ratio crossed his arms, looking down at you.

"Life isn't fair," he said, as if explaining something obvious to a child.

"And a doctor's job is not to care about being fair"

He looked you up and down, almost with contempt in his eyes.

"I had expected more from you," he said.

"But I suppose I expected too much"

Those words hit you like a blow to the stomach.

You knew he was right, but it didn't make the situation any less painful.

Your hands were clenched into tight fists, your fingers digging into your palms.

"I hate you," you spat out between sobs, your voice full of anger and hurt.

Ratio seemed unperturbed by your words to begin with.

He looked at you with an expressionless face for a moment, before speaking.

"You don't mean that"

You were angry, hurt, and sad, all at the same time.

"I do," you said, your eyes wet with tears.

"I hate you, and I wish you didn't exist"

The words came out of your mouth, more like a desperate plea.

Ratio didn't react at first, he just stood there, looking at you as you sobbed.

"You don't mean it," he repeated, his voice low and firm.

"And you know it"

"Yes I do," you insisted, your voice almost a hiss.

"I hate that you always criticize me," you said, letting out a sob. "I hate that you never say anything nice,"

You saw a slight change in his face through your tearful sight.

Before it becomes the same again.

"If you hate me and you can't stand the criticism I give you," his voice sounded annoying, almost words spit on his face.

"Why don't you retire from medical school?"

"You don't even have the talent to be a doctor anyway,"

You felt your heart drop at those words.

Talent… That was the thing that you always lacked.

Ratio was always the perfect doctor, from the beginning of his studies, he was the top of the top.

You, on the other hand, struggled.

You weren't naturally smart like your classmates or he was. You needed to study more, work harder, make more effort.

And even with all that, you didn't come close to being like he wanted.

You had sacrificed so many things just to get here, your dreams, your hobbies, and even your old friends.

What nice words from your boyfriend.

Both you and he remained silent, with only the sound of the boiling woman whistling.

Your tears fell like waterfalls, but this time you weren't sobbing, you just stared at him.

There was a tense silence between the two of you.

You didn't know what I was thinking, you didn't want to know either.

But you might notice that his facial expression was no longer the firm one before.

He seemed even surprised by his words.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak.

But the words not came out.

Ratio was looking at your devastated face, the trail of tears already staining your clothes and cheeks.

Your red eyes stared at him, without blinking. Your expression seemed so different from a few seconds ago.

He had probably crossed the line.

Ratio stood there, looking at your tear-soaked face. He had never seen you so upset, so… desperate.

'Why don't you retire from medical school?'

His words will be repeated as a disc striped on your head.

The seconds passed slowly, the silence was only broken by the sound of boiling water.

Ratio moved slightly, taking a step forward, but stopped when his eyes met your gaze.

That look was almost one of… betrayal.

Something inside him stirred with frustration but guilt at the same time.

You forced yourself to take a breath, because you felt like you were going to drown.

You grabbed your bag with your trembling hands.

As you moved to grab your stuff, your eyesight never focused even on his shoes.

"Y/N…" Ratio tried to speak, his voice was hesitant.

He watched as you packed your things, your movements were jerky and with haste, with the only goal of leaving quickly.

You didn't look at him, avoiding his eyes completely.

"Where are you going?" His voice sounded more pleading, and with a hint of concern.

You felt your body tense, the sound of his voice made you shiver. You had forgotten how long it had been since you heard your boyfriend speak to you without being sharp or harsh.

"I'm leaving," you replied, your voice flat and emotionless.

"Do you care?"

"Of course I care" his voice was firmer than before, and maybe a little annoyed?

Ratio walked closer to you, his steps slow.

"I-, we need to talk"

That phrase came out of his mouth, almost in a pleading tone.

You continued to pack your things, not daring to look at him.

"We can talk tomorrow," you said. "I remembered I have something to do at home,"

Ratio's lips formed a straight line.

He just kept quiet.

You too, until you approached the door.

You felt the weight of his eyes on your back, almost burning.

You had your hand on the doorknob.

It was hard. More than you should.

"Tomorrow, then," he said, quietly.

The way Ratio spoke sounded almost vulnerable.

Your hand trembled on the doorknob.

You wanted to look back, to say something, to see his face.

But you didn't, because you know that seeing him would be even more painful.

"Sure," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

The day after your… discussion with Ratio.

You were walking through the corridors of the medical school.

You felt a slight anxiety, but also a sense of resignation for what was going to happen.

You hadn't heard from Ratio since yesterday, and you weren't sure if it was on purpose or not.

As you turned a corner, you saw a familiar figure standing in your path.

You froze for a moment when you saw him.

He was dressed as usual and that perfect hairstyle.

But at least he didn't look so perfect, like he hadn't slept the night before.

His eyes were fixed on you, almost as if he were inspecting you.

Ratio his face neutral as always, but with a hint of… remorse?

"We need to talk," he repeated the phrase from yesterday, his voice low and firm.

Right.

"Oh, right," you let go, feeling your body tighten.

But before he could add anything else, you talked.

"Maybe later?, right now I have a class,"

Ratio had expected you to have a defiant or annoyed air about you.

But your voice, and expression, were calm, almost soft.

"Fine," he said after a few seconds. "Then after class,"

"After class," you confirmed.

Ratio continued to watch you.

The sound of the bell ringing through the hall interrupted the brief moment between the two of you.

not looking directly into his eyes. Then, before he could say anything again, you continued on your way to your classroom.

Ratio watched your figure walk away, his brows slightly furrowed.

Every ticking sound seemed almost as if it was mocking you.

The anticipation making your stomach spin.

In fact, you hadn't gone to a 'class'.

You went to talk to the rector of the medical school.

You felt a lump in your throat, and your hands were slightly sweaty.

You had an idea of what you wanted to talk about.

But you weren't so sure.

Your footsteps echoed through the hallway, your heart beating fast in your chest.

Until you arrived at the office door. You knocked gently and the voice of the rector called you in.

The moment of the meeting was brief, you explained the situation and what you decided. The man listened intently to your words, a slight sense of sympathy in his eyes.

When you finished, he nodded slowly, his fingers tapping on his desk. "Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yes," you responded, your voice firm but inside you were the nerves.

You didn't know if you had taken the right decision, but it was done.

"I don't want to question your decision, but-"

"I'm sure" you interrupted him abruptly.

It sounded a little… harsh, but you didn't want to hear any more arguments.

The rector gave a small resigned nod.

"Okay," he said slowly.

"I will start the procedures,"

You walked to where you knew Ratio would be teaching.

You didn't know why you approached, if you were supposed to leave without telling him anything.

Ratio was in the middle of his class when you appeared at the door.

He didn't see you at first, since his back was facing the door.

But when class ended a few minutes later, and everyone left, he turned his face towards the door after leaving his notes on his desk.

And there you were.

Your figure standing in the doorway.

Ratio's facial expression didn't change.

"Is your class over?," his voice was low, the room was empty, the last students had already left.

Which made the only sound a low ticking of the clock hanging on the wall.

Your feet didn't move toward him.

You were still standing by the door, your gaze fixed on the ground.

"Yes," your voice came out somewhat strangled.

For a few seconds Ratio was silent, as if contemplating you.

He started to walk towards you, his footsteps echoing in the room.

The air between the two of you felt almost… thick.

Ratio eventually stood in front of you, his height forcing you to lift your head to look at him.

"Can we talk outside of here?" You asked, something undesirable about your actions.

Ratio was quiet for a moment, staring down at you.

He looked almost… unreadable.

Finally he agreed with a low "sure".

You left the room and both you started walking together.

Neither of you spoke.

Silence.

Just the sound of the two of you walking through the corridors of the school.

Ratio continued to keep pace with you, but he was looking straight ahead, not looking directly at you.

The sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty halls.

As the two of you walked, you felt a feeling of nervousness rise in your stomach.

You inhaled before you asked again. "Can I take your hand?"

As you broke the silence, Ratio slightly turned his head towards you.

He gave a light nod of affirmation.

You reached for his hand, and he allowed you to hold it.

His palm was warm, and the touch of his fingers was gentle, almost firm.

You felt less nervous, just for a while.

You walked with him until you got to a quiet cafeteria, where you saw people studying at tables.

You sat in front of him, making your hand release his.

As you sat down in the cafeteria, Ratio took a seat in front of you.

Both of you stayed silent for a few more seconds.

Neither of you had said anything since you came to this place.

You could feel a tension in the air, the silence slowly becoming unbearable.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

"I assume you didn't go to class," his statement sounded like a mere fact.

"Uhm, we can talk about that at another time," you said, playing with your hands a little bit.

You missed the touch of his hand against yours, and you were going to miss that, that's for sure.

"I don't hate you, Veritas," you said, remembering your words yesterday, that you ranted when he was being unpleasant and rude on you.

Ratio's brow furrowed slightly.

He didn't say anything for a moment, he seemed to be thinking about something.

His gaze was focused on you, his eyes studying your expression almost intently, as if he was examining you.

"I know," he said eventually, his voice low and quiet.

Then he spoke again.

"I have to apologize," his words sounded almost reluctant, as if he didn't like saying them.

You could see the muscles of his jaw clenched, he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts and words.

It was clear that he wasn't used to apologizing.

He continued, the words coming out a little hesitant.

"I shouldn't have said those things,"

He paused again, his gaze averting yours for a moment.

Then he spoke again, and his eyes fixed on yours again.

"I was too harsh,"

Ratio's voice was quiet, almost like a whisper.

He was still struggling with those words, you were so used to him insulting you so easily but apparently it was different when he apologized.

Significantly that produced peace of mind in you.

You couldn't help but smile a little, feeling the knot in your throat.

"That's okay," you said.

Ratio's eyebrow shot up, clearly not expecting such a response.

You knew him enough that he probably would have been prepared to receive a scolding or an argument in response.

He was still looking at you, you could see the slight surprise in his eyes.

"That's… it?"

Ratio seemed almost dumbfounded.

"Yes, that's what I needed to hear," you said.

Anyway, you had already started with the procedures with the rector.

Maybe you just wanted to hear his words of apology, but as a good memory.

Ratio's expression changed, it was almost a mixture of relief and confusion. It was almost as if he had expected more resistance from you.

He remained quiet for a few more seconds, continuing to watch you intently.

That you were so forgiving after how he had acted made him feel… strange.

But maybe he shouldn't think too much.

Ratio exhaled slowly, his facial expression returning to its usual stoic and composed state.

"You're too soft, dear," he murmured, his voice low and quiet.

The next day it was the same.

He felt calm, because at least you weren't upset and at least you clarified that you didn't hate him.

It had spent almost 40 minutes of class and you were not there yet, it was strange to him.

Until when you looked for you on campus, where you were supposed to have other classes, you hadn't attended them. Rather, you weren't even on campus.

And, no matter how much he send you a message, it came out that he couldn't contact your number.

Almost recently, he had to come and talk to the rector, about you not coming and you could fail all your other courses. Until he took it upon himself to tell him that you had withdrew from campus three months ago.

Ratio's eyes widened, his facial expression transforming into a look of disbelief. "What?," his voice was low, but with a hint of alarm.

His mind was processing this new information, and it was hard for him to believe.

"They… withdrew three months ago?" His words came out slowly, his heart was starting to race.

Yes, you had taken the decision to withdraw from the medical school.

As much as it looked like a tantrum, you didn't care, maybe he was right.

So you followed his advice.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify or feed into ai

[cyberclouddream]

The 6th House and Bad Fortunes

In Hellenistic astrology the 6th house is referred to the “place of bad fortune”, connected to disease and decline in vitality. Here it’s more associated with hardships and illness than daily routines and activities. This is due to it being twelve houses away from the 7th house, which would mean imprisonment to significant commitments, like our health and vitality.

It represents the challenges that arise when our creative and romantic aspirations meet reality. By addressing the issues related to health, routines, and service we can transform the challenges here into opportunities.

Aries Rising

- tedious jobs that demand grinding

- may clean up after others or work beneath your skill level

- burnout because of perfectionism

- overworking with little recognition

- hypochondria; frequent doctor’s visits or checkups

- nitpicky with coworkers

Remedies: balanced diet; prioritize and delegate tasks; activities that promote self-improvement; face issues head-on; eliminate distractions; learn to say no

Taurus Rising

- passive-aggressive co-workers

- people-pleasing overload

- headaches or skin problems

- jobs that lack beauty or creativity

- indecisive career path

- superficial relationship with colleagues

Remedies: make workplace aesthetically pleasing; distinguish supportive relationships from toxic ones; take proactive steps to manage burnout; stay physically active

Gemini Rising

- jobs full of manipulation, power struggles, or drama

- unhealthy or overwhelming intensity at work

- anxiety, digestive issues, or fatigue

- strong desire for control over work environment and tasks clash

- help others with hidden agendas

Remedies: stop avoiding hard tasks; let go of grudges; find a life outside of work; channel rage into work; get regular check ups

Cancer Rising

- dissatisfaction in routines

- overcommitting to responsibilities

- lack of exercise, weight issues, digestive problems

- conflict with traditions or authority

- too much optimism

Remedies: learn to focus on tasks; be wary of escapism; be honest about what you can handle; establish flexible routines

Leo Rising

- rigid rules or strict hierarchies in workplace

- relentless pursuit for success

- issues with bones, joints, or skin

- missing opportunities for joy

- feelings of isolation and loneliness

Remedies: drop guilt about labor and delegate tasks; don’t take work too seriously; reassess goals if feeling stagnant or underappreciated

Virgo Rising

- jobs that feel misaligned with values or ideals

- alienation at work

- inconsistent health practices; issues with circulation, nervous system, or sudden changes in well-being

- rebel against routine tasks or authority figures

- difficulties with structure or traditional methods

Remedies: make decisions instead of overthinking; engage more with colleagues; address and change when there’s discomfort; stop idealizing job or coworkers; embrace structure

Libra Rising

- neglect important tasks and responsibilities

- elusive health issues; frustration when seeking health solutions; often feel tired without clear reason

- sensitivity leads to overwhelming emotional labor

- lack of structure in workplace

- romanticizing hardships, sacrifices, or struggles

Remedies: stop dreaming and start doing; get real about health issues; don’t overindulge in pleasures; don’t let feelings dictate work ethic; confront conversations and conflicts head-on

Scorpio Rising

- rush into tasks without proper planning

- take on too much workload at once

- headaches, high blood pressure, or injuries over overexertion

- struggles with monotonous tasks

- inconsistent motivations

Remedies: think before you speak to not burn bridges; learn to collaborate; own your mistakes; get organized

Sagittarius Rising

- stuck in unfulfilling jobs that lack progress

- overindulge in comforts; overeating or neglecting physical activity

- resistance to new opportunities and changes at work

- jobs that offer little financial security

- neglecting mental health

Remedies: don’t cling to routines or methods; avoid complacency; don’t overindulge in comfort foods or luxuries; don’t expect people to read your mind

Capricorn Rising

- erratic work performance

- overwhelmed by too many projects

- headaches, digestive issues, or anxiety

- resist structured routines

- prioritize mental stimulation over exercise or proper nutrition

Remedies: don’t take on too many tasks at once; confront workplace drama; avoid procrastination; make time for resting well; think before you speak to avoid misunderstandings

Aquarius Rising

- difficulty separating feelings from workplace

- fluctuating health issues, like digestive problems or issues linked to their emotional state

- prioritizing helping others over their own needs

- home dynamics effect work

- lack of professional boundaries

Remedies: don’t play victim; set emotional boundaries at work; don’t beat around the bush; avoid overindulgence; be realistic about your limitations

Pisces Rising

- snuggle with recognition at work

- desires for leadership clash with authority

- neglect health for status and appearance

- difficulties maintaining routine

- dramatic responses to setbacks, like unnecessary stress

Remedies: quit trying to be the center of attention at work; limit drama and theatrics; don’t let your pride blind from constructive criticism; be a team player; avoid overcommitting because of your passion;

[utilitycaster]

I've been a pretty harsh critic of Dr. Friedman and Polygon's general Critical Role coverage in the past, and while I think her latest article for them critiquing Campaign 3 is a fairly good one, it does in many ways cast an even harsher light on her kid-gloves handling of D20 and WBN. However, I want to talk about these two excerpts, because I think she hits on something I've increasingly noticed in Actual Play:

"This is where Critical Role’s strength — that Exandria often feels like a real, complex world — collided with the needs of a D&D campaign (a clear adversary, clear plans of action, forward momentum)."

and

"But the confused way D&D handles religion and divinity — polytheism as imagined by midwestern American Protestants — turned the question of how to handle this particular cosmic horror into a glue trap, paralyzing the players for dozens of hours of circular existential debates. Gods once mechanized (or digestible) become just another power bloc, and for players used to a system where in the end you are “basically gods,” the line gets blurrier still. And as D&D’s messy cosmology added friction to much of the campaign, D&D’s mechanics also don’t have the necessary friction for the interpersonal beats that make Critical Role compelling."

I agree with both these statements, as someone who, to be clear, enjoys D&D 5e. D&D supports a range of narratives, but all are ultimately a story of gaining power and fighting off or through a series of adversaries; if your characters are not doing that, it raises the question of why you picked a system that gives you few other options. (This is also, I should note, an increasingly loud question when it comes to Worlds Beyond Number; I fell behind for personal reasons after the Coven arc, but Brennan's initial statements about D&D as scaffolding were perhaps too true; almost every interesting mechanic, in a game with minimal combat that has thus far felt primarily focused on how the three protagonists have fundamentally different adversaries, has been homebrewed, to the point where the cosmology and baggage of D&D has felt like a liability rather than an asset).

D&D also has, in part due to such programs as D20, developed a reputation for being world-agnostic, and that ultimately isn't true. D&D does struggle to make the lines between "real divinity", an archfey or similarly powerful entity, and a L20 character feel sharply defined on a mechanical level; once you give a god a stat block, it can be killed (and on a metanarrative level, revealing the gods' statblocks in Downfall serves to make them both immense, yet also more fragile. The hit points are many, but still finite.) There are a number of questions most D&D worlds simply fail to address - and to be clear, this is not a flaw provided you have buy in. A level 2 warlock in D&D is, in most societies, an one-person lethal force unless the entire town swarms them at once, knowing that many of them will lose their lives in the effort; a level 2 warlock PC, however, is almost never, in-world, treated this way, and indeed is framed as an underdog in a harsh world despite usually having the ability to destroy the entire tavern.

D&D has also developed a (not undeserved) reputation as being The Dominant TTRPG put out by a massive corporation, and has developed a (not deserved) reputation as being itself uniquely problematic as a power fantasy, particularly by people who conveniently forget where Pathfinder came from. I've previously covered that, for all people demand non-D&D actual play, the viewership drops precipitously whenever a big AP show that made its name with D&D dares to branch out, and, related to that, I've seen an uptick in people who are excited for D&D to subvert itself. They wanted Campaign 3 to subvert these norms of divinity and heroic fantasy, cheered for it...and ultimately it was unable to do so. I don't think it's accurate to say that D&D's lack of interpersonal mechanics was the problem here, given that Campaigns 1 and 2 (and again, D20) have no such issue; but rather that since D&D's lack of interpersonal/RP mechanics require more effort from the players to initiate, the debates on the nature of divinity in a world and system that could not sustain them sapped any energy for the late-night watch conversations D&D can support when you're not fighting against it.

I think one of the many lessons we can learn from Critical Role Campaign 3 is that if you go up against D&D with an attempt to destroy it from within, your story will instead find itself conforming to the shape of its container, often to its detriment.

[eamour]

nervous system regulation.

this post is especially dedicated for my fellow neurodivergents, specifically those who have add/adhd.

it’s normal for all of us to feel stressed sometimes. stress, as well as anxiety, are both feelings we all experience from time to time. however, dealing with a lot of stress is proven to have a negative impact on your body, more specifically your (autonomic) nervous system. by understanding how to regulate your nervous system, you will have an easier time managing stressful moments, and overall live a lot more balanced and peaceful life. ⋮ © credits

the nervous system.

your nervous system is the control center of your body. it is the part of your body that’s responsible for regulating your breathing, your heartbeat, your blood pressure, your digestion, and also the way you feel. the part of your nervous system that deals with the emotional wellbeing of yours is called "autonomic nervous system".

when feeling stressed, your body naturally reacts in a way to prepare you for the situation. it could respond through an increased heart rate, sweaty palms or the tension of muscles. nevertheless, our bodies cannot constantly withstand stress. continuously experiencing high levels of cortisol and adrenaline can lead to (sometimes serious) health issues.

a dysregulated nervous system.

a nervous system becomes dysregulated when the body cannot properly handle certain situations the way it used to. the body's way of responding to certain situations falls out of sync. it indicates a state of imbalance as you experience your body not being able to keep up with you.

signs.

these are some of the signs indicating you might have a dysregulated nervous system:

anxiety

easily irritated

memory problems

difficulty concentrating

headaches

quickly overwhelmed

mood swings

panic attacks

digestive issues

trouble sleeping

constant fatigue

chronic pain

persistent muscle tension

weakened immune system

stressors.

here is a list of stressors that are known to disrupt your nervous system balance:

chronic stress

burnout

traumatic events

poor sleep habits

unhealthy diet

no time for relaxation

support.

here are things you can do to help regulating your nervous system again:

meditating and resting

listening to music

dancing and moving

stretching and walking

eft tapping

massaging yourself

affirming

practicing mindfulness

reconnecting with nature

hugging someone or yourself

somatic shaking

rubbing ice cubes on face

taking a cold shower

sleeping and waking up early

grounding yourself

humming, singing and laughing

talking to someone

reading or listening

using a weighted blanket

drinking herbal tea

engaging in calming activities

deep breathing exercises

prioritising your sleep

with love, ella.

[love-belle]

i should hate u !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them using shady captions to communicate and the media and fans being confused.

or

for when you loved them too much. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader

sequel - today and tomorrow and every day after that ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i really hope u like this <3 i was initially gonna do daniel ricciardo one first but i already had 1/2 of this done so i just decided to post this :) thank u sm for reading <3 i love u

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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f1news y/n y/l/n and max verstappen called it quits almost a month ago and it seems like they didn't end on good terms at all. the singer, at her london show last night, threw shade at her ex-boyfriend, saying and we quote, "the next song wouldn't have been possible without this one dude who inspired it obviously. so — here's 'i should hate you'. spoiler alert, i do. thank you!" the reason for the split is still unknown but sources who claim to be close to the pair said that 'it was bound to happen — with their different goals and plans for the future," seemingly referring to the talks that y/l/n wanted to get married and verstappen didn't. both of them have yet to comment on the situation. for more details, click on the link in our bio.

278 comments

username WOAH

username pause.

username ahahahahaha say what.

username oh my god 💀💀💀

username NOT HER CONFIRMING THAT I SHOULD HATE YOU IS ABT MAX

username no bc the way her voice cracked so many times in between the songs like girlie is angry AND hurt

username OH MY GOD

username i genuinely have no words

username omg the photos are NOT of her shading max. it's her laughing at a fan who yelled "you're the baddest bitch of all baddest bitches" at her

-> username YEAH LIKE SHE WAS SO CLOSE TO CRYING WHEN SHE SANG ISHY

username my delusional ass thinking they ended on good terms 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username nah it's so champagne problems and you're losing me kinda thing i can't handle this whatcthe fucj

username OH WHATCTHEBFUCJ

username me getting the big guns out to defend her AND max with my LIFE

username still processing their breakup give me a year to digest this information

username STOP WHAT THE FUCK

username my parents ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

username no bc she's genuinely such a sweet person so if she said this max must've done something 😭😭😭😭😭

-> username STOP NO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username can't believe she's saying this about a dude for whom she wrote "feels like" for like wow.

username I WAS AT THAT SHOW AND SHE LOOKED SO SAD AFTER SHE SAID THIS I FELT SO BAD

-> username SHE ALSO STARTED CRYING WHEN SHE FINISHED SINGING I MISS U IM SORRY AND ZARA (HER LEAD GUITARIST) HAD TO RUN AND CONSOLE HER

-> username AND SHE SAID THAT THE LAST MONTH HAS BEEN HARD ON HER AND SHE APOLOGIZED IF THE SHOW WASN'T AS GOOD AS THE OTHERS

-> username NAH MOTHER ATE AS ALWAYS

username y'all saying this but not the fact that she ALSO said "in another life we would've worked but im grateful for everything i had because for a moment you were mine"

-> username MY HEART JUST BROKE WHATCTHEBFUCK

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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maxverstappen1 i know i say that i am better now, spoiler alert, i am

8,926 comments

username the way my jaw dropped

username THE PICTURES

username GODDAMN

username someone take away y/n's phone before she hits back 💀💀💀

-> username the way i know that she would absolutely destroy him

username NOT THE PHOTOS OMG

danielricciardo spoiler alert, also a liar

-> maxverstappen1 you promised you wouldn't snitch

username he definitely cried while posting this idc

username max babe it's okay to admit that u miss ur wifey bc same 💔💔💔

-> username "wifey" girl he didn't even wanna marry her

-> username not another word.

username funny haha 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 im crying 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 now get back with mom.

landonorris no you're not

-> maxverstappen1 i will block you

username lando and daniel exposing max 💀💀💀

username no bc he probably cries whenever he remembers that he fumbled a baddie like y/n

username "it's all better with you ❤️"

-> username i could've gone along with my day without seeing that just saying

-> username delete that RIGHT NOW before i start crying

username missing max simping for y/n like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

charles_leclerc i swear i can hear you crying from my hotel room

-> maxverstappen1 WE'RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME HOTEL

username the way im SO sure he heard y/n saying that she hates him and that was the moment he gave up

-> username nah bc he was one of the "my girl's mad at me i hope i die" kinda guys

-> username wonder how he's surviving this tbh

username I CAN'T TAKE THIS SERIOUS IM SORRY THE POST IS JUST TOO FUNNY

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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yourusername i hate you lol

12,628 comments

username HELP

username she could only get this much in before her manager took away her phone ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

*liked by yourusername*

username no bc girl had a lot to say she's just trying to keep it cute

*liked by yourusername*

username the way i know y/n FOUGHT for the right to post this caption

username this is MILD bc i know y/n can be ruthless 😭😭😭😭😭😭

landonorris "in love" alright.

-> yourusername IT'S FOR THE AESTHETIC

username mother and father are fighting i can't take this what tye fyxk

username 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username mother slays everyday just saying

username no bc if y/n ever said ihy to me i would give up just a thought

lilymhe pretty bitch

-> yourusername u sure that's not u?????

username i REALLY hope she's at the next gp

-> username no bc the way max and her meeting would definitely be more entertaining than the race itself

username NOT THE SONG LYRICS WHAT HAVE U PLANNED

-> username oh fuck that broke my heart what the fuck

username missing my man max in the comments section being a whipped bitch so bad ://////

carmenmmundt can't wait to see you darling 🤍

-> yourusername counting down the seconds omg i missed u!!!!!!

username y/n's manager has her on lockdown i can tell 💀💀💀

-> username with what she said at her last show i wouldn't be surprised

landonorris the post has reached the target and the target is currently eating ice cream while singing your songs

-> yourusername OH OKAY

-> yourusername good to know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username she's so pretty it's not fair wtf

username the caption omg

-> username it's SO mild compared to what i was expecting tbh 💀

username slay

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maxverstappen1 it's all better now

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,829,626 others

yourusername and i swear to god i'd kill you if i loved you a less hard

13,728 comments

username SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

username OH MY GOD

username IS THAT MAX WHATCTHEBFUCK

username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING HER EX BOYFRIEND

username GIRL 😭😭😭😭 get up

username this is INSANE

username MOTHER?????? WHAT IS THIS??????

danielricciardo the most stressful week of my life if we're being for real

-> yourusername u can send m*x the therapy bill

-> maxverstappen1 don't. i did not agree to that.

username HER SONG LYRICS OH MY GOD

username SHE WROTE THIS SONG FOR MAX 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username okay but like. are we SURE that's max?????

-> username i simply refuse to believe that it's someone else so yes. that IS in fact max.

username OKAYYYYYYY

username did NOT see this coming in a thousand years

username obviously VERY happy for them but y/n censoring max's name is so fucking hilarious like

-> yourusername babe it's m*x

-> username my bad ur absolutely right it's m*x

-> maxverstappen1 this is bullying

username DID HE PUT A RING ON IT WHATXTHEBFUCK

-> username NO BC THAT WOULD MAKE SM SENSE

username so i lost SLEEP over nothing????????

maxverstappen1 nice pants

-> yourusername thanks they would look better on ur floor

-> maxverstappen1 say less

-> username i think i just died whatcthebfuxk

-> username oh they're GOOD now

username imagine they just drop engagement photos out of the blue then what.

-> yourusername imagine lol

-> username WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

username i just know y/n's eating up every moment of this chaos

-> maxverstappen1 demons thrive in chaos so

-> yourusername well! it was nice to reconcile for a couple days, goodbye now.

username im crying whayctrhbfcuk

landonorris mother father

-> yourusername child

-> maxverstappen1 no

-> username ah yes the four family members mother father child and no

username THE HEART THE EVERYTHING THEM

username they STILL don't follow eachother LMFAO

[servicpop]

doc doc doc doc.......... your ocs when drunk. specifically, what type of drunk would they be and how would they act?

— 🎭

this is an interesting question ! thank you

I feel like Adrien would be a super clingy drunk. Especially in public settings , Adrien would likely be the one to always have a hand on your thigh from under the table or be simply grabbing you , keeping you physically close . He gets quiet in front of others , but if he’s drunk alone with you , all he talks about is his—concerningly violent—solutions to hypothetical situations like if a man was to call you handsome , you get it . . .

Vallen handles his alcohol extremely well , so he has to be on the border of alcohol poisoning to be properly drunk. He moves slowly , speaks slowly , and loves slowly when he’s under the influence of alcohol. His touches are almost ticklish with how gentle he caresses you when drunk.

Cole also has a high tolerance , but he gets extremely red and flushed easily ! When he’s drunk , he’s pawing at your shirt like a puppy , quietly begging you to leave the function since he doesn’t feel too good. He’s definitely an emotional drunk , he starts recalling all the deceased animals he’s owned and talks about them like it was his dead spouse. His sex drive also depletes completely , so don’t expect any action when he’s drunk !

Callahan gets angry , borderline manic ( for the angst lovers , sorry to soft Callahan enjoyers <\3 ) He’s likely got undiagnosed problems from having to deal with a negative environment so often and for long periods of time. He’s the type to smash bottles, yell at his own reflection but he never directs his anger to you—surprisingly—it’s mostly himself.

Adefemi is no different when he drinks , you swear he’s got a mechanical digestive system. He might get a little more bold though , taking the initiative , teasing you more , etc. But overall , alcohol barely bothers him.

Alastair is a lightweight, and when he gets drunk , he the giggle-y , wobble-y type. Can’t walk in a straight line even if he promises he can , somehow manages a back handspring which he’s never attempted before , and throws up on the side of the road.

[reo-bylerwagon]

something super interesting to me is how a lot of viewers still struggle seeing mike reciprocating will's feelings, when the same thing could've been said for joyce in season 3.

i'd argue she's even harder to read than mike (mainly in s4) in most moments she has with hopper in season 3.

let's start off with their first interaction in season 3! and to really get into the grime, joyce's first time seeing hopper in the season.

is she just happy she has a visitor on a super slow day at work ("you're our first customer")? could be. she did immediately drop what she was doing the moment hop walked in, though.

when she does pick up on her tasks, she does incorporate a little flirting with hop... followed by the winona doe eyes look-up

then her gaze keeps getting softer

doesn't pull her eyes away from him...

and here it is. our first ever look at joyce byers yearning. (she hasn't processed what hop is saying yet give her a break lol)

she gets lost in the moment, and actually acts on wanting to feel closer to him, and comfort him.

these lyrics from "she's got you" by patsy cline are echoing her confusion right now. the lyrics in the caption are actually wrong, it should be "i really don't know, but i know it won't let me be" (i know that bc i'm a big fan of this song but that's beside the point lol). she doesn't know what her feelings for hopper could mean, but she's starting to realize they're there, and they might even be freaking her out a bit. understandably so! she lost bob a little under 8 months ago at this point, she hasn't even had a year to process her grief and trauma that came with witnessing it all.

then, hopper makes it real and asks her out. it is all about the microexpressions. her expression might've dropped, but her eyes are still saying the same thing, they're still holding that sense of longing. but that doesn't mean she isn't afraid, and taken aback, so it makes sense why joyce retreats.

on the subject of joyce retreating, standing hopper up isn't the only example. in my opinion, this scene is a very underrated, yet summation of how joyce handles romantic confrontation.

as hopper continues to call her out, we don't see her again. because once he says this, she basically dips.

sure, hopper wasn't fully digesting the problem at hand. but, all i'm saying is, isn't it convenient for joyce to use that fact to redirect the whole "you like me, but you're scare to move on" conversation by stealing his pliers (i think?) and making this lab mission happen?

and also, something something "like mother like son".

mix that with jonathan evacuating the second steve shows up at nancy's locker

this is the part of the post where i flip the bird to anyone who says byler analysts only talk about other relationships to prove byler (which, i gotta say, is annoying in general because bro i love these characters with my whole soul, and identifying dialogue and visual parallels that I DIDN'T PUT THERE is apparently disrespectful and shallow or something? touch grass, idk what to tell you if this post is somehow offensive.) anyway! i am actually using byler to shed light on joyce's perspective on her relationship with hopper during season 3, and how similar the relationships are in stranger things collectively, so let's go!

let's rewind about 24 hours! i'm gonna lay out this interaction, because there's something familiar about it.

the second the romantic implication is said out loud, and taken as such, joyce gets deflective and uptight. this leaves hopper to emphasize their "friendship" in his defense.

this sounds a lot like mike and will's fight at rink o mania. (both in episode 2 btw)

will even clarifies that this is about friendship more than once, even if some things he said were his attempt in seeing how mike would take them. the importance of this is that joyce and mike get defensive in their own way, and it is because, regardless of how hopper/will delivered it (or intended the delivery to be), they took these conversations romantically, and reacted similarly. of course, joyce is a woman in her late 40s, and mike is a 14 year old boy, so one reaction is more extreme than the other, but that doesn't diminish the essence these reactions share. they [mike and joyce] even leave in one last stinger (again, one is more extreme than the other.)

while we're on the subject of byler and jopper uniquely paralleling each other, here's another one that spells it out better!

joyce and will feeling like they're losing their mind/going crazy because of the mindflayer vs hopper and mike feeling like they're losing their minds/going crazy because they think they're seeing things (you could go further saying its an association with el, since hop was fighting off the demodogs to keep them off of el, and mike literally thinks he's still seeing el herself).

i want to include one more scene comparison, and i've talked about it vaguely before.

the upside down couch.

before it was upside down, joyce and hop had their first moment on screen where they both openly and mutually pined for each other on this couch. and not only that, but it is all while being basked under a very similar morning sunlight.

leaving this here to prove it's the same couch just 'cause

as i said before "like mother like son"

there's another byers who carries his unconscious crush home, and tucks them into bed.

extending the web even further, in the same night, mike takes will "home" to a similar couch, where he also comforts him.

and even though we don't see it, mike (and lucas lol) also bikes with will back to the wheelers in the same rain storm joyce takes hopper home in! (and this time, it's obvious that will sleeps over.)

[lanawinterscigarettes]

can you pleaseplease write a friends to lovers with jennifer check x female reader? i love ur writing btw 🙏🙏

ofc I can! and thank you so so much, that's so sweet of you to say 🥰🥰 this is meant to be a part two to a previous jen fic I wrote, practice makes perfect, so I recommend reading that one first if you want

Perfect Your Craft (Jennifer Check x fem reader)

Warnings: friends to lovers, kissing happens a lot here (both casual/platonic and romantic), sapphic/wlw yearning, slightly vulgar/salty language, slowburn (kind of but not really cause idk how to write that), brief implied mistreatment by Jen's past boyfriends

You couldn't get over the kiss you and Jennifer had shared. While you were quite certain that it was meant to be just that, a kiss and nothing more, the feelings you already held for her in your heart were starting to grow and blossom like a garden after a rainstorm.

Part of you was under the assumption that it would just be a one time thing, but you should've known better.

"Come over to my house after school so we can practice," she had murmured in your ear as soon as the bell rang to signal class was over.

A shiver went down your spine at her words, knowing exactly what she meant when she said practice. Practice makes perfect, right? So if the two of you wanted to get good enough to kiss your future boyfriends, you needed to practice on each other first.

But that was part of the problem. You didn't want a boyfriend, you wanted her. You wanted Jennifer.

Of course she could never know, because how do you tell your best friend since forever about the massive crush you have on her? You don't, that's how.

Especially not when you're both from Devil's Kettle, one of the smallest towns ever. She'd laugh right in your face for liking girls, let alone daring to have a crush on her of all people.

It was all you could think about for the rest of the day, even after you'd gotten to her house. You were so caught up in your quiet longing that you almost missed what she'd said.

"Okay, we should probably get to work on learning how to use tongue." The dumbstruck look on your face at her words caused her to let out an amused laugh. "Oh my God, you look ridiculous."

"Tongue? Tongue?" You questioned in disbelief, unable to wrap your head around the notion.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, now becoming less amused and more annoyed with how long it was taking you to digest her comment. "Yes, tongue. Plenty of guys use tongue when they kiss, so you'll want to learn how to use it, too. Trust me, it's for the best."

You tried not to make a face of displeasure as she mentioned the way guys liked to kiss. It was hard enough trying to handle the idea of her kissing you like that, you certainly didn't need the image of her experiencing it with guys firsthand.

"If you insist," you finally muttered in agreement, to which she merely grinned at in excitement.

"Great. You know, you're really gonna need to learn how to 'perfect your craft' in the subtle art of kissing if you want to score a date by the time prom season rolls around, or whatever it is that you dorks say."

The only date I want is you, you couldn't help but think automatically as you envisioned what prom would even look like for you. You'd obviously go with her, but not as a real date, more as a substitute if you weren't able to find a guy to go with.

She'd have no doubt finding one, meaning you'd most likely be third-wheeling her the whole time. As much as you wanted to feel bad at the thought of potentially spoiling her fun, imagining the look on her date's face as you spent the entire evening glued to her side was priceless. Talk about getting cockblocked.

Then again, she didn't seem like someone who'd be entirely against the idea of a threesome, so maybe you wouldn't cling to her so tightly after all.

"Hello, earth calling. What's your home planet like on Mars where you've disappeared off to?" Jennifer's sarcastic voice cut through your thoughts, bringing you back down to reality.

It wasn't prom season yet, neither of you had dates, and you were both sitting on her bed about to practice kissing each other for when the time came that you'd need it. Perfect your craft, or whatever it was that she said.

"Sorry, I was just... thinking about stuff." What a weak excuse. She had to know you were lying, but for once she didn't push you for info. Probably only because she figured you were imagining some kind of boring "nerd thing", as she'd say.

"Guys like it if you're a tease, but don't do it too much or it'll only piss them off. Unless you're into that," she added with a cheeky smirk.

You bit back the immediate urge to blurt out the word "gross" at her advice.

"The most important thing to remember is how you move your lips. You're not just smashing them together with someone else's the same way you did when you played Barbies growing up, you want to try to fit them together perfectly, almost like a really sexy puzzle."

A sexy puzzle? Sometimes her comments made you wonder what you even saw in her in the first place.

"Like this." She moved closer to you on the bed so she could demonstrate. You stayed completely still as she kissed you, indeed moving her lips along yours as if they were made for each other.

"See? It's not so hard once you get the hang of it," she said once she'd pulled away, absentmindedly playing with her hair as she leaned back. "Now you try."

Oh, great. She expected you to initiate a kiss. It was awkward enough for you when she was the one who was doing it, but now you had to.

"Um, okay." You cleared your throat as you slowly shifted over to where she was. Closing your eyes, you leaned in and attempted to kiss her the same way she'd done to you.

She let you take the lead this time, allowing you to kiss her for as long as you wanted to. And once you'd started, it was hard to stop. Even though your lips were only touching hers for a minute or so, it felt like hours.

When you finally pulled away, you felt your face heating up as you realized just how eager you must've seemed to be kissing her for so long. "How- how was that?" You asked nervously as you tried your best to act natural, hoping she wouldn't notice just how affected you were by the kiss.

"That was great. I'm jealous of whoever gets to date you," she teased while giving you a playful shove.

Laughing awkwardly, you decided to play along. "Y- yeah, sure." It was hard for you to imagine wanting to kiss anyone else besides her, let alone date.

Jennifer casually checked her nails as she asked her next question. "You're not currently dating anyone, though, right?" If you didn't know any better, you would've thought that she sounded jealous, but there was no way. She was just overly protective, that was all.

"Uh, no. None of the guys at school really seem to interest me that much," you admitted as you watched her, always finding yourself mesmerized with even the smallest things that she did.

"Good, because let me tell you a lot of the guys at school are either jerks or creeps. Believe me, I know from experience."

It broke your heart to think about her getting mistreated by anyone, let alone by some random guy that she was seeing. "That's awful, Jen. You shouldn't have to go through that." You tenatively reached your hand out to rest on top of yours, half expecting her to scoff and pull it away, like she usually did.

This time, though, she simply allowed it, she voice uncharacteristically soft when spoke. "Yeah, I guess."

You thought about saying something else in order to help comfort her, but you weren't sure what. Eventually you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I could treat you so much better than they could." You didn't know where this sudden burst of confidence came from, but deep down in your heart you knew it to be true. You knew you could treat her so much better than any guy she'd ever hooked up with before in the past.

Her gaze instantly shot up to meet yours the second those words left your mouth. You'd never seen Jennifer look so shocked before, if ever. "What?"

"I- I-" And just like that, your devil-may-care attitude disappeared just as soon as it came. "I- I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just being stupid." You turned away from her as you withdrew your hand, feeling embarrassed.

"No, hey, don't say that." She gently grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back in her direction, placing her hand under your chin so you couldn't look away. "I think we should try that, actually."

"Wh- What?" This time it was your turn to be shocked. You hesitantly met her eyes, which for once lacked their usual mocking glint. They didn't look bitter and mean, only soft and genuine.

"You're really nice, and you really care about me, and you're a really great kisser. If I was going to date anybody here and actually plan on sticking around instead of just bailing the morning after, it would be you." She admitted in a quiet voice, averting her gaze from yours as she spoke.

"Promise?" Your voice came out in a hushed whisper, and while you might've seemed to be frozen in a state of disbelief she knew she couldn't blame you for thinking that. Jennifer wasn't really one for commitment, but that was with other people who she never really cared about. That wasn't ever with you.

"Yeah, I promise." Her eyes flickered back up to meet yours, the both of you holding your breath as you waited for the other to make a move. Time seemed to stand still when you finally decided to lean in and give her a kiss, something you'd done so many times before- but this time felt different. It felt passionate, and full of love, and real.

She kissed you until she lost her breath, the two of you panting from lack of oxygen. "I love you. Like, really, really love you."

Your heart soared at her words, the blossoming love you felt within you growing more and more the longer you spent this moment with her. "I love you too, Jen. I really, really do."

A giggle of delight escaped from her at your words, and she quickly pulled you down onto the bed next to her. "I'm so glad you're my girlfriend now. I'll never, ever let you go."

You'd never seen her look so happy, and it made you proud of yourself for being the one to make her feel that way. Cuddling up close, you wrapped your arms around her and let out a sigh of content. "Me, either."

End notes: this was longer than I meant it to be but I didn't want to rush the plot so 🤷‍♂️

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[loverofstufflof]

Ways to consume Journey to the West (without needling to buy and read a full translation)!

I’ve noticed that a lot of people can’t read the book for a lot of different reasons, so I’ve compiled a couple of my favourite ways of consume the story while bypassing these problems, categorized by the various issues I’ve come across.

Note that this is mainly for English speakers, as that’s the language I default to for translations.

The book is too inaccessible/expensive for me to obtain physically

Journey to the West Research has an entire blog post dedicated to compiling free PDF versions of the book. This includes many languages, not just English.

I struggle with reading text in that quantity

There are abridged versions of the story, my personal favourite is the one by Julie Lovell—it’s approximately a quarter of the original story’s length, and mainly focuses on the most iconic chapters. These versions are also typically more easily found in local bookstores.

I struggle with reading novels in general

The story has been converted into audio form! Here are the ones off the top of my head, each listed with their own pros and cons:

Journey to the West: An Audio Drama Series is an original translation told in a read-aloud format, in which the host, Lin, acts as a kindly librarian reading to a group of awaiting 1st graders. She gives every character a distinct voice and personality, and she’s obviously delighted to be able to share her culture with the listeners. The show used to have free translation notes, where Lin gets to act as a disgruntled translator going on about the intricacies of the Chinese language and historical/mythological contexts, but these now require a subscription to access. This show is the reason why I know how to pronounce these characters’ names.

Legends Summarized: The Journey to the West by Overly Sarcastic Productions is one that I’m sure I don’t need to include (because of how widespread it is) but feel I should because someone is gonna mention is anyways. It’s a very summarized, very sarcastic retelling of Red’s favourite chapters in the book, accompanied by fun visuals and the excitement of someone who clearly knows and loves what they’re talking about. As Red has said herself, this series should not be your only source of JTTW knowledge, as she simplifies it a ton to make it more digestible. Great for people who are just getting into the story and want a general overview, not great for people who want a more in-depth understanding of the themes and other complexities.

Journey of the Monkey King is a podcast akin to a longform, more in depth version of the OSP series. It consists of two Irish comedians discussing one chapter per episode; one of them (Caoimhe) has read the book, the other (MJ) hasn’t. The format is mainly Caoimhe giving a comedic abridged version of the chapter while MJ gawks in horror at whatever absurdity the Monster-of-the-Week presents. Because it’s hosted by Irish people, there isn’t much cultural context given, and some names are butchered, however I do find this one a lot easier to follow in comparison to the Audio Drama Series, and it’s far more detailed than Legends Summarized.

Journey to the West English Amateur Audiobook is one that is on my radar but have not started. To my current knowledge, it is an audiobook version of the WJF Jenner translation, which is notable to me because most of these types of podcasts are derived from the Anthony C Yu translation, so this one would be a nice listen to compare how the two went about handling the text.

Please know that this post isn’t intended to shame anyone into consuming the story; it’s not for everyone! But I’ve come across my fair share of aspiring fans who couldn’t access the book in a way that suited them (including myself) so I wanted to make this knowledge more generally know for anyone else who might need it :]

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for ZepysGirl behind the cut; “the wet nurse omegaverse”. ( FYI this last scenebit was supposed to be the end of the first chapter of the first installment in this series. totally unrelatedly, I have now realized this chapter is over thirty thousand words long. so, uhhhhh, we'll see how that edits up later, I guess, hahaha. ) (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Arguably correct, but our candidate isn’t especially concerned with pack manners,” Bruce replies in the largest understatement he’s made since the last time he and Alfred attempted to express some semblance of actual sincere emotion at each other. “He also barely even acknowledged either of their existences while downright doting on Chris and Jon.” 

“Alright, that’s a better sign,” Dick allows. “But we’re still gonna keep looking for Aunt Diana at least until this omega is confirmed as a definitely workable candidate.” 

“Understood,” Bruce says, since there is still a chance Lor might not digest Carl’s milk well or just won’t get enough nutrients from it to thrive long-term without an actually established pack bond in place, as opposed to just the instinctive feral version. 

“We’ll report in again in eighteen hours if we don’t find her sooner,” Dick says. “Going off-grid now. According to Constantine, anyway.” 

“Understood,” Bruce repeats. That is the least reassuring thing Dick could’ve possibly said, especially after the “favor” mention, but he’s not optimistic enough to think he can convince Dick not to do whatever he’s already in the middle of doing in the four seconds he has before Dick inevitably cuts the line. 

“Great!” Dick says brightly. “Call Jason, goddammit, you know damn well it has to be you.” And then he cuts the line, unsurprisingly. 

Bruce . . . exhales. Puts his phone back to sleep and tucks it away. 

“Well, you could,” Lois says, also unsurprisingly. 

“Hn,” Bruce says. It would have to be him to call for a request like this, yes. Technically Alfred could too, as the pack’s head beta, but . . . 

Well, in these circumstances, he doesn’t actually know when it would’ve hit the point of Alfred going over his head to contact Jason. For one thing, it’d be very obvious to Jason that Alfred had gone over his head, which Bruce can’t imagine making him any more inclined to come back. 

And either way, Jason would still need to reestablish an actual active pack bond with him again to count as close enough to “pack” for his milk to really benefit Lor any more than Carl’s should already be capable of doing, which . . . well, given the fact that Clark won’t even forgive himself for perceived failures, Bruce can’t see how to justify forgiving himself for actual ones, much less to that degree. 

And wouldn’t let himself, even if he could. 

Though even if Jason didn’t agree to reestablishing their pack bond, Clark would still mind him nursing Lor less, Bruce knows. Jason would count as close enough just for being the pup of a packmate, bonded or not; even a grown pup that Clark's never known particularly well. That would be infinitely easier for Clark’s omega to accept, compared to hiring a total stranger. 

But only asking Jason to come back to the pack for something like this . . . only asking Jason to come home for something like this . . . 

That isn’t something Bruce could expect Jason’s omega to accept. 

Of course it’s not. 

“Thank you for this,” Clark says, which has come up a few dozen times already. Bruce doesn’t bother pointing that out this time, given that he’s already done it a few dozen times and Clark obviously still has the eidetic memory either way. “We just–it didn’t feel safe, handling this problem in Metropolis.” 

“That would be because it wasn’t,” Bruce says. If nothing else, Clark’s anxiety while they brought unfamiliar omegas into his territory would really not be helpful for anyone, mostly because no one wants Superman that anxious in the event an apocalypse happens. 

Maybe if they want a sixty/forty chance of that apocalypse being dealt with very quickly and very brutally, but those aren’t ideal odds or the kind of thing Clark actually wants to do outside of absolute necessity. 

“Well, let’s be fair, how much safer is Gotham?” Lois asks wryly, the corner of her mouth ticking up in amusement as she sets a hand on her hip. “Percentage-wise and all, you know.” 

“That depends on the scale of destruction you’re trying to avoid,” Bruce replies, since Gotham is very frequently a place of smaller, more personal tragedies and Metropolis is very frequently the center of massive alien invasions, and those are obviously very different things. Not that no one ever wants to burn down Gotham and not that Metropolis never has innocent people get caught up in petty little acts of meaningless violence, but just statistically-speaking. Although–“But we’re in Bristol right now, so that’s not really relevant anyway.” 

“Oh, the man thinks he’s funny,” Lois snorts, her amused smirk widening. 

“Can’t imagine why you’d get that impression, Mrs. Lane-Kent,” Bruce lies mildly. Lois laughs, and Clark looks a little amused despite himself, so good. Hopefully that broke a little bit of tension there, or at least took the edge off. 

That’s something he’s going to have to be worrying about, he knows. Obviously Clark isn’t going to be deliberately starting anything with a kid in Carl’s situation, but it’s not unlikely Carl’s total lack of pack manners might ruffle some feathers or lead to some miscommunication or unnecessary feelings of being challenged or–well, there’s plenty of ways that could go wrong. 

Everything he knows about human–and human-socialized–psychology aside, Bruce is just . . . very much not prepared for this, he already knows. Which is its own problem, frankly, but one he’s just going to have to deal with once he’s gotten some decent sleep under his utility belt. 

“I think I actually am going to go review that contract before dinner, given we’ve got the time,” Bruce says, mostly to get away and give them both a few moments together. It’s a natural enough escape, and Dick’s call already broke up the conversation a bit anyway. Besides, better to be thorough; make sure they didn’t miss anything in there while they were distracted by sleep deprivation and stress and unfamiliar omegas nursing their pups when they could. 

Not all of those things are applicable to both of them, obviously, but the point stands. 

Anyway, he wants to start running a background check on Carl as soon as possible, and maybe also run his fingerprints and DNA just in case. Which–alright, DNA is admittedly a little much even for him, when again, they specifically went and found this kid, but, well, if the prints don’t turn anything up or there are any red flags in his paperwork . . . 

Possibly Clark would not appreciate that, but that’s only if he finds out about it. 

Honestly, if anything he should take a nap before dinner, but he at least wants to get the background checks going–on Carl, yes, but especially on the Waterton Agency and every single person working for it from top and bottom. He clearly didn’t go in-depth enough the first time, and clearly needed to be approaching said checks more proactively. And aggressively. 

He’s not going to pretend that he wouldn’t have had them come for the consultation either way once the agency had told him that it had a potentially suitable candidate for Lor’s needs, because given the situation he absolutely would have, but he’d at least have preferred to be forewarned before he was standing in his own damn parlor with a beta who was offering to get an oblivious omega who only might be a legal adult mated to a convenient stranger in case either he or Lois decided to take advantage of an employee who was at best half their ages, dammit. 

He definitely would’ve preferred to be forewarned about that, actually. Just–very definitely. His cortisol levels were already high enough as it was. 

Bruce very badly needs to sleep tonight. At least six hours uninterrupted, barring acts of either God, gods, or Gotham. 

“Need another pair of eyes on that?” Clark asks. Bruce wonders how the most emotionally healthy person in this conversation is missing the fact that he's trying to leave him alone with his husband so she can help him with said emotional health like he clearly needs. 

Then again, Clark might just be trying to avoid that particular conversation for as long as possible. 

“Maybe one or two,” Bruce says, since he does understand why Clark might not be ready to have that conversation yet, but also isn’t letting the self-loathing idiot escape Lois’s sphere of influence that easily. Not that Lois really needs his permission to insert herself in a situation no matter whose den they’re currently in, but he might as well give her the clear in. 

“Er–” Clark starts, and Lois gives them both a speculative, assessing look and then says, “Yeah, we can do that, can’t we, honey.” 

“We left the paperwork in my office. Plenty of room for three,” Bruce says, then gestures politely towards the hall. “Though I’m going to need to make a quick stop on the way, so why don’t you two just meet me there?” 

“No problem,” Lois says. Clark . . . sighs, then smiles a little wryly. A little sadly, too, but that’s likely unavoidable right now. 

“You’re both merciless,” he says. 

“No idea what you’re talking about, honey,” Lois says, offering him her arm with her usual sly smile. There’s a bit more compassion behind the expression than she’d need for a different conversation, but that’s just as unavoidable as Clark’s smile being a little sad is right now. Bruce doesn’t actually know if they’re even going to talk–that’s up to Clark, more than anyone else–but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to do his damnedest to give them at least a moment before Clark feels like he has to go back to pretending nothing’s wrong. 

“Won’t be a moment,” Bruce lies easily, and then heads off to do just that. 

They’re in his territory, after all, and on top of that they’re both pack to him. He’s going to give them every damn thing he can provide, whether it’s something as simple as a moment alone to breathe or as necessary as the room to have a difficult conversation or as painful as a stranger to do something they just can’t. 

Whether that stranger is actually someone who should even be here at all, or is someone who might need just as much help himself. Might be a victim, or unsafe, or just alone and unprotected. 

Carl is an employee, obviously, and not one who means anything like the Lane-Kent pack does to the Wayne pack, but as long as he’s in Bruce’s territory too . . . well, Bruce can multitask a little, if it comes to it. Especially if potentially helping a stray omega who might be in a questionable situation will definitely help keep Clark’s new pup from starving to death right in front of them. 

Multitasking, again. 

So whoever Carl Krummett is and whatever happened to him and wherever he came from, they’re not getting him back anytime soon. 

Not as long as Bruce has anything to say about it, anyway.