#The Colonized will stand together

[blackcrowing]

I am NOT an artist, but this felt like it needed to be made

"Do Something About It" - Blinne Ní Ghálaigh

[itsclydebitches]

Love it when the kinda half-formed observations you make about an episode finally come to the forefront.

Watching the start of "Dot and Bubble": Hmm, everyone in this episode is very... white.

Halfway through: The Doctor certainly continues to stand out, especially in that bright red sweater amongst all the pastels

Lindy freaking out about the Doctor and Ruby being in the same room together: I suppose that could be due to some cultural taboo about interacting in-person when everyone is supposed to communicate via bubble, but that doesn't track with what we've seen of her work day...

The "twist" that the chronically online, all white, super rich, entitled to the point of satire, willing to sacrifice others without hesitation, oh so eager to colonize people living in a literal bubble (TWO bubbles) are *gasp!* actually, devastatingly racist...

Yeah, that's not a twist. That's all deliberately interconnected. The episode didn't suddenly move from an argument about social media use to an argument about racism; the two historically go hand-in-hand.

[opencommunion]

“The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality.”

― James Baldwin

the way colonizers unchild Palestinian kids is so heartless and disturbing. colonialism crushes children's dreams ON PURPOSE to try to destroy indigenous people's futures.

Wafaa's nephew Ahmed is 17. Because of this genocide, he went from playing soccer on his high school team, to playing with the other kids in his refugee camp in the rare moments between his odd jobs to support his family during famine, and volunteering as an aid worker to help other families. Ahmed lost many of his teammates, including his best friend Mahmoud, who he saw martyred.

Ahmed's cousin Yazid is 18. He planned to marry his high school sweetheart after their first year of college, but the genocide stopped their education. Yazid's fiancee's father was martyred and Yazid is now working to support both his family and hers. He also volunteers alongside Ahmed, risking their lives as the genocidal IOF targets aid workers -- Ahmed has even been injured by drones targeting him.

I'm not saying all this to make them look like superheros (although they are both wonderful people). I just want you all to see how totally the genocide has shattered their childhoods, and how much they have to struggle to resist that violence and hold the pieces together, and how the free world has failed to care for them.

fortunately there is a way we can help them.

Wafaa @wafans-blog is currently raising money to evacuate Ahmed and Yazid. This is time sensitive -- she needs to pay the registration fees to Hala Company within the next 2 days, by August 11th.

The full amount needed to evacuate Wafaa's entire family is $80,000; to cover the upcoming fees we need to get to $40,000 by the 11th. We're nearly there but donations are slowing.

Please reblog, and most importantly, donate any amount you can spare. Those $5s add up if enough people help. So much of the world is so hostile to Palestinian boys, please stand up for Yazid and Ahmed and help them escape. Don't let them get separated from their family, don't leave them behind.

August 9th: $35,914 / $40,000

plain text and tags under the cut

PT:

“The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality.”

― James Baldwin

the way colonizers unchild Palestinian kids is so heartless and disturbing. colonialism crushes children's dreams on purpose to try to destroy indigenous people's futures.

Wafaa's nephew Ahmed is 17. Because of this genocide, he went from playing soccer on his high school team, to playing with the other kids in his refugee camp in the rare moments between his odd jobs to support his family during famine, and volunteering as an aid worker to help other families. Ahmed lost many of his teammates, including his best friend Mahmoud, who he saw martyred.

Ahmed's cousin Yazid is 18. He planned to marry his high school sweetheart after their first year of college, but the genocide stopped their education. Yazid's fiancee's father was martyred and Yazid is now working to support both his family and hers. He also volunteers alongside Ahmed, risking their lives as the genocidal IOF targets aid workers -- Ahmed has even been injured by drones targeting him.

I'm not saying all this to make them look like superheroes (although they are both wonderful people). I just want you all to see how totally the genocide has shattered their childhoods, and how much they have to struggle to resist that violence and hold the pieces together, and how the free world has failed to care for them.

fortunately there is a way we can help them.

Wafaa @/wafans-blog is currently raising money to evacuate Ahmed and Yazid. This is time sensitive -- she needs to pay the registration fees to Hala Company within the next 2 days, by August 11th.

The full amount needed to evacuate Wafaa's entire family is $80,000; to cover the upcoming fees we need to get to $40,000 by the 11th. We're nearly there but donations are slowing.

Please reblog, and most importantly, donate any amount you can spare. Those $5s add up if enough people help. So much of the world is so hostile to Palestinian boys, please stand up for Yazid and Ahmed and help them escape. Don't let them get separated from their family, don't leave them behind.

August 9th: $35,914 / $40,000

/ end PT

lmk if you don't want to be tagged next time! ty!

@feluka @tortiefrancis @timetravellingkitty @flouryhedgehog @jinnazah

@mazzikah @irhabiya @terroristiraqis @watchnpray @stuckinapril

@soracities @bloglikeanegyptian @handweavers @trans-axolotl @plomegranate

@briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe @rhubarbspring @schoolhater

@pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @anneemay @bedufairy

@starstrucksnowing @thecrownedgoddess @handsworthsongs @caribbeangirlfolkloring

@libraryposting @geeseareassholes @wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy @edwordsmyth

@chilewithcarnage @psychotic-gerard @post-brahminism @bringmemyrocks @arslanjae

@determinate-negation @khanger @kibumkim @qattdraws @brutaliakhoa

@sharingresourcesforpalestine @neechees @mothblossoms @gothhabiba @mangocheesecakes

@reduxskullduggerry @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @kyra45-helping-others @log6 @7bitter

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @palms-upturned @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid

@capricornpropaganda @communist-ojou-sama @xinakwans @heritageposts @velvetys

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat @watermotif @mavigator

@lacecap @littlestpersimmon @socalgal @ghelgheli @northgazaupdates2 @vakarians-babe

[psychologeek]

Thank you.

If you have a list of reliable places/NGOs to donate for, I'll be happy if you could share.

For example: reliable funding for pipelines (?), community things, even history resources (like keeping the stories).

I think I read about something that buys many woods and bring to people for winter, but I can't remember what or where I read it.

I ask because you know better. It's closer to you.

the topic of indigeneity has been on my (jewish) mind quite a bit since oct 7 for obvious reasons. and like. as an american, the conclusion i've kinda come to has been, "well jeez, shouldn't we be doing more for indigenous people where we, like... live?"

i cannot Imagine how endlessly frustrating it is to see people constantly treat your struggles as ancient history & your peoples' genocide as something "over and done with," not more than a talking point in the context of the more popular political conversation, while it is ACTIVELY STILL HAPPENING TO YOUR PEOPLE.

i'd love to hear if you have any thoughts on how NA jews can put in the work be better allies to NA indigenous people.

Thank you so much, I am so glad I can help.

A lot of what we as Jews can do is educate ourselves (yourselves) on what the indigenous tribes in your area are dealing with.

Right now I'm in contact with a localish reservation to see if there is a donation site available or government officials to contact to raise the level of this concern. The issues are broken pipeline in the water and the reservation is to my knowledge still in a state of emergency.

We need to bring active attention to indigenous issues and not let them be twisted by media outlets. Many issues are actually not what we hear about in the news, it is twisted to make you believe that they are doing bad things, or that they deserve to have bad things happen to them. When we protest for the child services and healthcare system being so racist and cruel to first Nations people, media says "First Nations protest against child service and criticize the health care system". That dramatically changes the mood of the situation and makes outsiders mad at us. When all we really want is child services to stop taking out children thinking"they are better off in a white home, without their savage culture and parents ". I've heard a once respected colleague say this to me after they moved to work with a Tribe.

We need the world to know these issues that are literally killing us.

If you listen to what the natives have to say and not the media you see things in a whole new light. One that humanizes aboriginal peoples and their struggles.

Another issue I find North American wide is that you either stay on the reservation to basically live in poverty, but also be with your family and culture. Or you can leave the reservation and lose everything aboriginal about you, to your old friends and family you are now considered white, and also you lose status with the government and can no longer have access to certain grants such as some for post secondary education.

Aboriginal peoples are abused either verbally or physically when they enter "settler areas".

The health care system needs to wake up as well.

We are not all junkies

In the reservation rates of addiction can be higher, but there are a lot of trauma these people face. Going to the hospital can be horrible as even I am seen as a junky because I'm darker, have a native jawline, and cheekbones [to die for 😊]. But the prejudice I face going into any hospital is insane. I am not a native person with status, so I can't even imagine the bad treatment when having status... I was with a young client and she was a 16 year old white girl, in the room next to us was an Aboriginal couple begging to see their newborn, that the mother wanted to hold her baby. The nurses kept refusing her. I learned later they wanted her to sign a paper allowing the hospital to sterilize her to receive the child she had just given birth to. That is beyond and it is so buried. You never hear about it in the media.

Also spreading awareness for missing native people (especially women and children) in your area is always a good idea.

I'm not sure if this was the answer you were wanting/ expecting but basically listen to the native peoples. Research a local tribe and maybe ask the council if there is anything you can do to help. Just keep in mind they can be weary of any settlers.

Spread awareness to aboriginal issues and support the local community.

There are many tribes so I can't give you one link, since each reservation/tribe has their own council, similar to a regular city.

I understand that right now many of my native brothers and sisters are mad at Israel. Let's talk about it.

So, media is heavily influenced by bias as we know. Well many residents do not have a lot of disposable income so their entertainment may be just television, or they just read news outlets like the rest of the people. I'm not saying that people don't have phones and stuff, but those people are young people who are perhaps mad at the world and feel like they have something to prove, while the elders of the village are watching basic news networks for their source of news. So it can be hard for people in general to understand the complex issues in the middle East. It also doesn't help that many ways to find more credible sources are usually taught in post secondary education which very few aboriginal families can afford, even with grants.

I am trying to get our communities together.

I mean they did at least a few times because I know a few Jewish Aboriginal people from tumblr. We are not that different in reality and we just need to get past the blind anger to see the truth.

Sorry if I rambled on.

Thanks 🙏🏾

[forfunandfandom]

This moment was beautiful. I knew what they were going to do as soon as the water turned to poison.

Viet Nam was colonized on-and-off by China for around 1,000 years. During that time, the story of Hai Bà Trưng was one of the few stories of heroism that survived to the modern time. At the end of their rebellion, they committed suicide by jumping into a river rather than be captured (Chinese records said they were captured and beheaded, but I chose to believe the Viet records).

While the story of this event wasn’t perfect, I appreciate a story revolving around Viet heroes.

What’s more, the story turns their deaths into an heroic act. As opposed to two desperate women committing suicide, this time, they sacrificed themselves to save countless people.

It’s an ongoing theme in FGO that being summoned gives heroes a chance to be more than their legends. Hai Bà Trưng’s legend is ultimately a tragedy. Thăc said it herself that she doesn’t feel like a hero because they ultimately failed to make a lasting change. Viet Nam continued to be colonized long after their deaths.

Even so, their rebellion gave the Viet people a sense of pride that we did stand up against our oppressors. To this day, there are streets, schools, hospitals, etc. named after Hai Bà Thưng.

The event story calls them “new” gods, but they died in 42 AD so their legend is around as old as Jesus. They are very old heroes, though not as old as Dagon, which is the point. Hai Bà Thưng stood in the middle between the far ancient past (Gilgamesh’s era) and the modern era (Tesla’s era and after). They are old enough to feel disconnected from what modern Viet Nam is now, which is why Thǎc feels like she didn’t have much effect on history, yet they are not so old that they feel forgotten and twisted. There’s a big street in Saigon named after them, so they are very much still remembered, unlike Dagon who feels bitter at being forgotten.

I had my doubts when this event seems to start out as a comedy, but I like how it pulled together, leading to that beautiful scene pictured above.

[wis-art]

While I will happily shit on European racism and openly talk about bigotry here, I do not accept people reducing every single culture here to nothing more than fascism and making it sound like we have nothing else going on in here. I'm polish, I don't like how Americans and most Western European nations treat poland as some kind of backwards goop monolith of nothing else than racism and bigotry, and worthless poor people, justifying reducing us to nothing more than the shitty stereotype. We, young people, queer people, trans people, still exist here and we are talking about issues and working towards changing them. And if you fail to see anything BUT problems with Europe then I don't know what to tell you. Your allies here exist and we stand here with you, we don't like colonizers either, while I acknowledge that Europe heavily benefits from the history of colonialism and a LOT of European wealth is directly stolen from overseas. It is not a system I want to live in and I will talk about this and do what I can to change it, even though I can't do much, I'm fucking disabled and poor myself unable to work or even walk much. Don't downplay queer cultures and movements anywhere in the world, hold each other up and work together, because we won't be able to dismantle this system of oppression if we just all try to be on our own and alone. I hate this inequality I hate it so much.

[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

[zvezdacito]

Tbh I think a lot of people downplay the stakes Malleus is in that makes him overblot as just surface level loneliness by itself and that's why they think his overblot is unwarranted/annoying compared to the other six. It makes sense he jumps to such drastic measures to avoid facing whatever comes next because whatever it is will last not just a few years but literally a millennium + either way because of multiple systemic reasons he knows he's not just gonna be able to connect with a bunch of new people/explore a bunch of new experiences to make up for it.

Compared to other overblotters, it seems no matter what course of action Malleus will end up in a bad ending since he's a species seemingly among the few left of his kind while also being biologically predisposed to outliving everyone. It's as if he can never have a happy ending as long as he's himself, or that as a king (and symbolic "lord of all villains") his happiness will only come at the cost of others'.

I feel like a lot of people also give him the entire blame of his failures to connect properly with his peers. When even before they knew about his impulsivity or lack of cognitive empathy people were already jumping to conclusions about him. (Said mindsets came about from internalizing the depersonalization he was raised with, he's the sole heir of a country battered by colonization who place very high expectations on him to be a symbol of hope for them again after all)

Assuming the worse because of his powers, the reputation that came from it, and because of (the once again systemic issue) humans and people outside the Briar Valley barely knowing anything about/only having stereotypical rumors to go off the nocturnal fae who closed themselves off to try and stop humans from invading them more💀

So yeah givevn all of this Malleus was a ticking time bomb and even then he was about to just stand down and put his own feelings aside until he became accidentally convinced there was a way that didn't have to exclude him. It's an unfortunate clash of circumstances between different people and that's what TWST is all about. So yeah idk just kinda baffling some people are unironically out there saying things like "Malleus should've just held himself together for one night that's so selfish" when it's kinda made extremely clear by the story there's way more leading to the characters' making choices than that

From an outside point of view as the audience of course there are obvious steps Malleus could take to make the most out of what he has and to not inadvertently be a prick to others, but it pretty obvious why in his shoes it's not really feasible rn lol. Other than these things I could think of at the top of my head, a lot of the things people single him out as especially selfish or unreasonable for are things the other overblotters and characters in general also do lol.

> Like the class dynamics at play? NRC is literally rich boy central many characters express some kind of class privelege

> Not receiving consequences for his actions? This is a staple twst writing flaw for all its stories in general, most overblotters have gotten a slap on the wrist/their actions relatively covered up by the end. And Fellow legit just walks away from an undisclosed time of human trafficking like it was no big deal😭

Ironically Malleus will probably be the first overblotter to not have his actions hidden to only a select circle of people and receive severe repercussions for it because someone like him "should've been above that".

But yeah sometimes I feel like the extent of how some factors in Malleus's background, upbringing and environment determine his way of thinking and why he thinks he needs to do certain things is underestimated by the fandom and only the surface level of what he's doing is focused on which results in some people talking about his character and his flaws in a very dismissive way idk

[fadetoblacked]

Big, Bold, Black

In a world increasingly aware of systemic injustices, we must question every aspect of our lives and how they contribute to or challenge these systems. One powerful yet often overlooked area where we can enact change is in our personal relationships. As a radical anti-racist and pro-Black activist, I believe it is essential to encourage young European women to date African men. This is not merely a matter of personal preference but a radical act of social justice.

Challenging Eurocentric Beauty Standards

For centuries, European beauty standards have dominated global perceptions of attractiveness, marginalizing and devaluing the beauty of African men. By choosing to date African men, young European women can challenge and deconstruct these oppressive standards. This act of love becomes a statement against the narrow definitions of beauty perpetuated by a Eurocentric worldview. Celebrating the beauty of African men is a step towards embracing diversity and dismantling deeply ingrained biases.

Promoting Cultural Exchange and Understanding

Dating African men offers an opportunity for profound cultural exchange. In a world where ignorance fuels racism, understanding and appreciating diverse cultures is a powerful antidote. Relationships between European women and African men can foster greater empathy and awareness. These relationships become a microcosm of what a more inclusive and understanding society could look like. Through love and connection, we can bridge gaps and foster unity.

Redressing Historical Injustices

The history of Europe’s interaction with Africa is marred by exploitation, colonization, and systemic racism. While individual relationships cannot undo this history, they can be acts of personal reparation. By choosing to date African men, European women make a conscious choice to stand against a history of oppression. This is not about fetishizing African men but about recognizing and valuing their humanity in a world that has often sought to dehumanize them.

Supporting Black Empowerment

In many European societies, African men face significant socioeconomic challenges due to systemic racism. By forming relationships with African men, European women can contribute to the social and economic empowerment of Black communities. These relationships can break down barriers and create networks of support that extend beyond the personal to the community level. It’s about building solidarity and working together towards a more just society.

Rejecting Racial Prejudices

Deciding to date African men is a powerful rejection of the racial prejudices that persist in society. It is a declaration that love and human connection transcend the artificial boundaries of race. Young European women who choose to date African men are making a bold statement against racism. They are choosing to see and value people for who they are rather than the color of their skin.

A Personal and Political Statement

Every relationship is political. By choosing to date African men, European women make a personal and political statement. They declare their commitment to anti-racism and social justice. These relationships become symbols of resistance against the racist structures that seek to divide us. They represent a vision of a world where love, respect, and equality are not just ideals but lived realities.

In conclusion, young European women have a unique opportunity to contribute to social justice through their romantic choices. By choosing to date African men, they can challenge Eurocentric beauty standards, promote cultural understanding, redress historical injustices, support Black empowerment, and reject racial prejudices. This is about more than individual relationships; it’s about creating a world where love and justice go hand in hand. Let us be bold in our love and unwavering in our commitment to a just and equitable society.

[thechanelmuse]

Juneteenth is a Black American holiday. 

We call Juneteenth many things: Black Independence Day, Freedom Day, Emancipation Day, Jubilee Day. We celebrate and honor our ancestors. 

December 31 is recognized as Watch Night or Freedom’s Eve in Black American churches because it marks the day our enslaved ancestors were awaiting news of their freedom going into 1863. On January 1, 1863, President Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. But all of the ancestors wouldn’t be freed until June 19, 1865 for those in Galveston, Texas and even January 23, 1866 for those in New Jersey (the last slave state). (It’s also worth noting that our people under the Choctaw and Chickasaw Nations wouldn’t be freed until April 28, 1866 and June 14, 1866 for those under the Cherokee Nation by way of the Treaties.)

Since 1866, Black Americans in Texas have been commemorating the emancipation of our people by way of reading the Emancipation Proclamation and coming together to have parades, free festivities, and later on pageants. Thereafter, it spread to select states as an annual day of commemoration of our people in our homeland. 

Here’s a short silent video filmed during the 1925 Juneteenth celebration in Beaumont, Texas:

(It’s also worth noting that the Mascogos tribe in Coahuila, Mexico celebrate Juneteenth over there as well. Quick history lesson: A total of 305,326 Africans were shipped to the US to be enslaved alongside of American Indians who were already or would become enslaved as prisoners of war, as well as those who stayed behind refusing to leave and walk the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma. In the United States, you were either enslaved under the English territories, the Dutch, the French, the Spanish, or under the Nations of what would called the Five “Civilized” Native American Tribes: Cherokee, Creek (Muscogee), Chickasaw, Choctaw, and Seminoles. Mascogos descend from the Seminoles who escaped slavery during the Seminole Wars, or the Gullah Wars that lasted for more than 100 years if you will, and then settled at El Nacimiento in 1852.)

We largely wave our red, white and blue flags on Juneteenth. These are the only colors that represent Juneteenth. But sometimes you may see others wave our Black American Heritage flag (red, black, and gold).

Juneteenth is a day of respect. It has nothing to do with Africa, diversity, inclusion, immigration, your Pan-African flag, your cashapps, nor your commerce businesses. It is not a day of “what about” isms. It is not a day to tap into your inner colonizer and attempt to wipe out our existence. That is ethnocide and anti-Black American. If you can’t attend a Black American (centered) event that’s filled with education on the day, our music, our food and other centered activities because it’s not centered around yours…that is a you problem. Respect our day for what and whom it stands for in our homeland. 

Juneteenth flag creator: “Boston Ben” Haith 

It was created in 1997. The red, white and blue colors represent the American flag. The five-point star represents the Lone State (Texas). The white burst around the star represents a nova, the beginning of a new star. The new beginning for Black Americans.��

Black American Heritage Flag creators: Melvin Charles & Gleason T. Jackson

It was created in 1967, our Civil Rights era. The color black represents the ethnic pride for who we are. Red represents the blood shed for freedom, equality, justice and human dignity. Gold fig wreath represents intellect, prosperity, and peace. The sword represents the strength and authority exhibited by a Black culture that made many contributions to the world in mathematics, art, medicine, and physical science, heralding the contributions that Black Americans would make in these and other fields. 

SN: While we’re talking about flags, I should note that Grace Wisher, a 13-year-old free Black girl from Baltimore helped stitched the Star Spangled flag, which would inspire the national anthem during her six years of service to Mary Pickersgill. I ain’t even gon hold you. I never looked too far into it, but she prob sewed that whole American flag her damn self. They love lying about history here until you start unearthing them old documents. 

In conclusion, Juneteenth is a Black American holiday. Respect us and our ancestors.

[asifyoudidntknow]

All Time Favs

I began reading fanfic in my teens during the original run of the show. There were lonnng breaks from it, but coming back to the fandom in 2017 reignited my interest. I now keep a spreadsheet as well as a "to read" list. I already have almost 600 logged (not including 5 years), so I wanted to share my top favorites. Divided into my 4 favorite genres (AU, casefic, angst + romance, and smut + romance) and in no particular order...

*Alternate Universe*

I used to wonder why someone would choose to read AU. Then I read one of these and was completely blown away.

Katherine of Ireland by Jenna Tooms (gossamer)

Katherine, princess of Ireland is married to Walter, king of Angora. When Walter is killed during battle, Katherine is taken by the enemy, FitzJames. William is FitzJames right hand. When FitzJames orders her to be beaten (even after discovering her pregnancy) William devises a plan to save her, heal her and get her back to Ireland. Will William always be seen as the enemy or will Katherine come to see him for who he truly is?

By the dim and flaring lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience (ao3)

Civil war AU’s are my jam and this was one of the first ones I read.  When Mulder discovers (disguised boy) Scully bathing in a waterfall by darkness and realizes what he is dealing with will remain etched in my brain forever.

In darkness by DKSculder (ao3)

What if Scully was married to Daniel?  What if Daniel was a serial killer?  What if Mulder was a VCU agent still?   This is an unfinished work, but the idea is unlike any other I’ve come across.

Blinded by the white light by DashaK (ao3)

Need I say more?  When Mulder and Scully find each other after colonization, will they remember each other and will they act on it?

The second side of light by @scapegrace74-blog (ao3)

Oregon Trail.  Mulder is leading scully and Melissa across the trail when Melissa dies.  They end up getting very close to one another on the journey.

Paracelsus by profuckslove (ao3)

Another amazing civil war AU.  When Mulder goes looking for his lost son and comes across a pregnant scully what will happen to them?

Hiareth by profuckslove (gossamer)

Wales 1215.  Scully escapes the king by marrying Mulder, the prince of wales.  Marriage leads to love and fighting off dangerous men.

Paracosm by @softnow (ao3)

This is an unfinished work.  College AU.  Mulder has a crush on the library girl, will she return his advances?

A companion unobtrusive by @slippinmickeys (ao3)

A college AU where scully is looking for a roommate and Mulder is looking for a room.  Melissa introduces them and the rest is history.

Qui Si by Trixie (gossamer)

After accepting an offer from a gypsy to go back to a life with Samantha in it, Mulder, a child psychologist, helps Scully, a PhD, get over her past.

You he did not fail by extraordinarily_ordinary (ao3)

Scully abruptly leaves TXF after surviving cancer and moves to LA to start anew.  She is dating when Mulder is assigned as a profiler to a case she is working and they have to deal with things left undealt with.

Five years and a lifetime by @monikafilefan (ao3)

Mulder is a Peds psychiatrist. Scully is a Peds neurologist. They meet at a conference and have a one night stand.  What happens when they come to work together 5 years later and Scully is a single mom?

Amish country by lolabeegood (gossamer)

Mulder and Scully go undercover in Amish country trying to catch a serial rapist while navigating very traditional values and roles.

You and me by lolabeegood (gossamer)

Mulder leaves his wealthy parents to serve under Scully’s father in the military.  In order for her to stay safe, fed, and clothed she needs to marry.

The mountain man by aka Jake (gossamer)

Scully is sent from nyc (where she was becoming a doctor) to Montana at her father’s wishes.  He wants her to marry a lieutenant under his command and not practice medicine, but she becomes intrigued with a local mountain man.

The countess/the earl by @slippinmickeys (ao3)

When scully is to be married to an old duke in order to save her family from financial ruin, a strange, alluring earl steps in to save her.

*Case*

There is nothing quite like a casefic. It's classic x-files and I am here for it. Writers in this fandom are so talented with their abilities to create a fic that rivals/trumps actual episodes.

Perchitor by @aloysiavirgata (ao3)

A little girl goes missing in the mountains with the superstition of Jenny Greenteeth to blame.  Mulder and Scully investigate while navigating a new physical relationship.

Omens by @lepus-arcticus (ao3)

I read this one as a WIP and was anxiously checking for an update every night.  There were several lines in this fic that made me gasp.  Cancer arc angst. Give me it alllll.

XII by fragilevixen (ao3)

A killer that romanticizes every victim.  His next target?  Guess who.  *coughSCULLYcough*

Hearts desire by malibusunset (ao3)

While in a small town scully runs into an old BF and starts wondering why she doesn’t prioritize her dating.  She decides to go for it.  The author makes me like Scully’s old flame.  That says something.  When the MSR convo finally does come, I thought I’d die from the slow burn.

Resurgam by opheila_interrupted (ao3)

One of the most xfiles like cases I have ever read.  Remains unsolved at the end and has our agents investigating ghosts near Mulder’s hometown while dealing with their own (Emily & Teena).

Universal invariants/laws of motion by @syntax6

Scully is engaged to Ethan throughout the first season while her and Mulder’s relationship is deepening and then consummated right before she is abducted.  How do two guys in love handle Scully’s abduction and what happens when she is returned?  

All the way home/head over heels by @syntax6

Mulder is pulled into a past unsolved VCU case of a killer with a shoe fetish while navigating a new physical relationship with scully.  When scully is targeted, Mulder has to gamble with his personal feelings while working to find the killer.

Queens gambit by Suzanne Schramm (gossamer)

Under Kersh, Mulder and Scully are assigned to a VCU case Mulder worked in Utah in 89’.  The killer was put to death and then revenge began.  Local mines and children involved.

*angst + romance*

This is my crux. Angst in any way, shape, or form. Add in some slow burn/ust and finally the rst *chefs kiss* particularly fond of Ethan fics and cancer arc.

Contact high by penumbra (gossamer)

Still feeling the residual effects of the spores post field trip, our agents try out Mulder’s new waterbed.

Early on by @sunflowerseedsandscience (ao3)

10 vignettes set during season 1.  Our baby agents are becoming close, but Ethan is still around.  How does scully navigate her relationship with Ethan while working with Mulder?

Center Mass by @kateyes224 (ao3)

Another Ethan fic set in season 1.  Mulder and Scully make an effort to get to know one another… in more ways than one.  And when Mulder gets aroused at Scully’s marksmanship it’s all over for me. 

One blue line by sarie_fairy (ao3)

IVF arc.  Scully is defeated by a negative pregnancy test.  When Mulder tries to comfort her, she suggests having sex.  I just remember wondering if I was reading or actually doing the act myself considering how detailed it was.

Salt by anjou (gossamer)

I remember reading this and being like WTF is happening to only have it all make sense at the end leaving me speechless.

Triptych by @iconicscullyoutfits (ao3)

My favorite FTF, post bee, how the f*ck did they get out of anarctica fic.

Snowbound by malibusunset (gossamer)

After missing their flight and being snowed in their rental on the side of the road, discussions lead to their relationship.  Once they’re recused they are put up in an inn with 1 room.  Dun, dun, dunnnn.

The ache by @storybycorey (ao3)

1999 Mulder has a visit with 2015 Mulder to urge him to get help with his depression and not lose scully.

Love bites by living_underground (ao3)

A review of vampirism cases throughout the years.  Hickeys from Ed.  Love bites from Mulder.

Goshen by bonetree (ao3)

Mulder and Scully are in a car accident where their car can’t be seen.  Major injuries lead to near death experiences and visions of Emily.

All that our senses can perceive by wonderland (ao3)

Mulder’s POV looking over Scully’s transformation from girl to woman and how all of his senses perceive her.

Caught in the Act I by parrotfish (gossamer)

Although the whole series is amazing, the first part is my favorite.  I love when scully lays into the review panel about being sexist.

The things she carries by @edierone (ao3)

One of my favorite cancer arc fics.  When Mulder confronts Scully 3 years later on the porch I literally stopped breathing.

Red valerian series by dashakay (ao3)

Scully looks to skinner for comfort during a grueling case, starting a 6 month affair.  Will scully ever love him or will the buried truth prevail?

Sex and Loathing by malibusunset (ao3)

Scully takes a drunk Mulder home after Roche.  He makes a move and they have terrible sex.  After 2 years of poking at each other they face things head on after Mulder almost dies in PBV.

Snakebitten by @onpaperfirst (ao3)

Set throughout season 5.  My favorite season. Say no more.

Five years and one night by Shalimar (gossamer)

When Scully transfers to LA and Mulder finds more babies like Emily, can they work together again to get to the bottom of this conspiracy?

The letter by Shalimar (gossamer)

Post TFWID, scully goes searching for more clues to her and Mulder’s past lives when she comes across a letter in a local Apison museum she sent to Mulder.

*smut + romance*

It's hard to have just smut when it comes to MSR, am I right? these two idiots are so in love that my smut category must also be romantic.

Undercover swing by 2momsmakearight (ao3)

What if Mulder and Scully go undercover as a married couple interested in swinging?  Can they both keep their jealously in check?  

Be kind, rewind by OnlyTheInevitable (ao3)

To help catch a suspect, skinner requests our agents watch porn together.  While watching, conversation leads to critiques about the performance and comments about personal preferences.

Girl 77 by mojo

A stripper is found dead with Mulder’s card on her.  She looks exactly like Scully.  Scully notices and confronts Mulder about it.

Dropped call series by @phillippadgettwrites (ao3)

Phone sex, but make it “not them”

December 31, 1984 by @phillippadgettwrites (ao3)

When Mulder saves an unimpressed scully from some jerk on NYE, they end up at her apartment having a one night stand.

Damsels by @sisterspooky1013 (ao3)

Scully is sent undercover as a stripper to find a missing woman.  Mulder is kept in the dark regarding her case, but pieces together where she is and what she’s doing and sets out to find her.

The Shirt by Audrey Roget (gossamer)

Skinner reconciles with Sharon leading to a vow renewal celebration. Skinner asks mulder and Scully to stand with him as his best agents. After slow dancing together, mulder bolts out of the celebration before scully catches the bridal bouquet and he crosses a line. When they end up in an accident while driving in a storm, things come to a head in an Elvis inspired motel suite out in the middle of nowhere PA.

[iongsiyi]

pocahontas: the princess at the bottom of the hierarchy (part 1)

(see disclaimer at bottom of post)

what better way to spend a 3 hour plane ride than to write a tumblr post about the most underrated disney princess of all time - pocahontas

at the time of release, it received immense backlash for creating a love story between a native american and a colonizer. however, my blog post is solely looking at it through a fictional lens.

their love story properly began with the song “colors of the wind”

“you think you own whatever land you land on, the earth is just a dead thing you can claim, but i know every rock and tree and creature, has a life, had a spirit, has a name”

“you think the only people who are people, are the people who look at think like you”

“come run the hidden pine trails of the forest, come taste the sunsweet berries of the earth, come roll in all the riches all around you. and for once, never wonder what they’re worth”

those are my favorite lyrics from the popular song since it captured the essence of pocahontas and john’s differences. pocahontas is essentially teaching him her way of living, showing him a new side of the world, and as the song progresses, their bond grows stronger. disney used the duration of a single song to showcase them bonding, having fun together, and allowing john smith to realize that life isn't about conquering lands, it's about understanding the land around you.

there are not many similarities between them, they grew up, lived, ate, drank, and spoke completely differently. but there is one thing they have in common - their loyalty, their love for their people, and the extent they would go to protect the ones they love.

considering their background, their differences in living, how they both have different missions in life and more important things they need to hold onto (see previous post) they knew for a fact, from the start, that they would never end up together. and let’s face it, there’s no rooting for it, love doesn’t stand against everything. because as i’ve said, there are bigger things in life that one needs to hold onto.

and they did just that, holding what they love dear.

Disclaimer:

I acknowledge history and the trauma, the damage, the hurt that indigenous people or anyone in history who has been mistreated, abused, or slaughtered has been through, and my blog is in no way trying to glorify history, change history, or reverse the damage they have been through. My blog is looking at stories solely through the lens of fiction. I am not trying to speak on behalf of anyone who created the stories but myself, who is only here appreciating fictional characters and stories.

however, i will not be replying to anyone who expresses anything regarding my posts. any reblogs with a reply i will ignore, criticism or not.

i am also here as a fellow blogger to encourage you to keep posting your opinions, on your blogs or reply to mine. that’s an important thing about tumblr, our opinions are what keeps this platform going.

thank you for your time and i hope you have a great rest of your day.

[seeingivy]

lovesick

actor!eren x reader

**part of my method acting series

an: come get yall juice

songs mentioned: lovesick by laufey!

previous part linked here

--

Ten minutes later and you’re all standing outside the house, as the blaring fire truck pulls up to the curb. And you give everyone an awkward sheepish smile, as you all shiver in the cold November night, as the firefighters march into the house. 

It seems that in your efforts to be…..symbolic, you accidentally set the fire alarm off. 

Which has the group of you outside, freezing in the November cold, as you wait for them to exit the house and safely turn the alarm off. 

“Right. So what exactly were you doing, Y/N?” Levi seethes, irritatedly rubbing his biceps in the cold of the night. He’s heroically given up his jacket for Hange, whose currently teasing Sasha and Niccolo about something. 

“Why do you think its me?” you respond. 

“It came from that room. And I know damn well Colt and Porco aren’t stupid enough to do something like that.” Levi responds. 

“Hey. Porco is plenty stupid.” 

“I heard that.” Porco grumbles. 

You shoot him a smile, as he walks over with Colt and the two of them reach forward to shove you. You shove back, the three of you laughing into the night as Levi grumbles some more about firefighters and the bills and walks away. 

“Colt. I’m cold.” you murmur. 

“Okay. Why don’t you go ahead and start another fire to generate some warmth?” Colt responds, glaring. 

“Or you could just be a good big brother and give me your jacket?” you respond, giving him a big smile. 

“Absolutely not, twerp. You literally set my room, that you are not welcome in, on fire.” Colt states. 

“Where else am I supposed to sleep? Do you want me to cuddle up with Eren?” 

Colt glares, before shoving you and responding. 

“Share with Mikasa. Stop being a little baby bitch about the maid of honor thing.” 

“I’m not being a baby bitch!” you respond. 

“You kind of are, love.” Porco responds. 

“You keep your stupid British butt out of this, innit love. I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable. She wants to room with her fiance and I’m going to let her.” you respond, mimicking Porco’s British accent. 

“Oh yeah. That’s why the two of you keep giving each other wistful, longing looks whenever you’re around each other. You’d think it was the two of you getting married.” Colt spits back, his breath materializing in the cold air. 

Colt aggressively rattles your head one last time before moving to where Gabi and Falco were standing as Porco makes a gesture to take his jacket off. Which has you yanking him by the ear and fervently whispering in his ear. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” you whisper. 

“Eh?” Porco responds. 

“If you are trying to romance Pieck, why are you giving me your jacket?” 

“You were just bitching about how you were cold.” Porco deadpans. 

“Well, go find out if she’s bitching about being cold. And give her your jacket. Must I do everything for you?” you respond, pinching his ear harder. 

Porco, you are quick to find out, has the same romantic capabilities as a valencia orange. Which means that in all the time you’ve spent freeloading in their room, Porco has enlisted your help in romancing Pieck, who has caught his eye. 

Porco rolls his eyes as he walks over, and you shoot him a satisfied smile when Pieck wraps his jacket around her cold arms, particularly pink in the cheeks as the two of them talk in the cold. 

Eren, Connie, Jean, and Mikasa, however, are not aware of this. Which has the four of them, particularly Eren, groaning from ten feet away at the sight of the two of you together, giving each other warm smiles in the cold. 

“Imagine losing the love of your life to a British guy. Twice.” Connie states. 

“Shut up.” Eren grumbles, shoving him in the side. 

“First he colonizes your country and then your girlfriend?” Jean asks. 

“She’s not my girlfriend, need I remind you.” Eren responds, glaring. 

“Just when we thought Y/N was done with London Boys…” Connie adds, earning an angry shove from both Eren and Mikasa. 

“The British are coming, Eren! The British are coming!” Jean screams, saluting Miksasa and Eren. 

“He’s not from London, dumbass.” Mikasa responds. 

“Her kid’s first word is going to be bruv…” Connie adds, putting on the thickest accent he can muster. 

“They’re not having kids!” Eren groans. 

“You guys are so mean! Leave Eren alone, you know how much it must hurt him to see something like that. Especially when he’s been so lonely and-” 

“Wow. Thank you, Mikasa. Your defense of me is so moving.” Eren states. 

Eren rolls his eyes, as the group of them snicker at his response, and they all immediately wrap their arms around him. A common habit the three of them have, knowing damn well that Eren’s mind is the worst place to be at times, and that sometimes their presence and stupid jokes is enough to put a damper on that internal monologue that plagues Eren constantly. 

“Go fight for your girl, Eren. She doesn’t even know what you did for her.” Mikasa states. 

“Correction. What I tried to do for her. And you go fight for your best friend. Who should be your maid of honor instead of that rodeo clown, Amy, by the way.” 

“Hey.” Mikasa states, glaring at him. 

“I swear to god, my feet have bruises from when we practiced walking down the aisle. I’m going to be in a wheelchair by the time we make it to the wedding, Mika.” 

“You’re just saying that because you want Y/N to be walking down with you instead of Amy.” Mikasa counters.

“Well, yes. Obviously. But even besides that, do you really want Amy to be at your side during your wedding, Mikasa? Y/N is your best friend. Mind you, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening without me and her. We’re the only reason you guys got to have all those sleepovers back in the day.” 

“You’re full of shit, Eren. You’re acting like you didn’t benefit from those sleepovers either.” Jean counters. 

“No one had a sleepover with me. Which is just fucking rude in my opinion.” Connie adds, rather unhelpfully. 

Eren frowns, as he looks over at you. Your head is angled up, staring at the stars littered across the sky and the tiniest crescent moon shining down on all of you. Eren swallows hard, trying his best to aid you in your efforts to make amends. 

“I’m just saying, Mikasa. This is your wedding. You only get married once ….do you really not want her to be a part of it?” Eren asks. 

Eren watches Mikasa, at the wistful look on her face, as she watches you stand there alone, crunching the rocks under your feet as you hop in the cold of the night. Eren gives Mikasa one last pointed glare before walking over and standing at your side. 

“Hi Margaret.” 

“Hi Bruce.” you respond. 

“Did you pick up arson as a hobby in your free time?” he asks. 

“Of course! Arson is good for the environment. I’m very passionate about climate change.” you respond, earning a laugh from him. 

“How so?” 

“Fires stimulate new growth. Recycles nutrients in the ground, clears the forest floors of debris, and opens it up to sunlight.” you murmur. 

“Oh, yeah. Porco’s carpet is really flourishing right now.” Eren responds. 

“Exactly! You get me.” you respond, as the two of you laugh into the night. 

Eren’s quick to take his own jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders, as you give him a glare. 

“Just when I think you’ve reached the peaks of your cornniness, you always seem to astound me, Eren Jaeger.” 

“What can I say? I’m an overachiever, princess.” Eren responds, pinching the softness of your cheek. 

The two of you laugh as you both smile at each other, in the chill of the night. He’s about to speak, but on cue, the firefighters walk out of the house and you both get distracted, running to huddle back into the house. Levi murmurs something about hot chocolate, which has the group of you jumping in excitement, as you all settle into the kitchen and the dining table. 

And as always, Falco is scribbling some mess in his notebook, something you’ve found him doing almost everyday this week. You slide into the seat across from him and Niccolo, giving Gabi a polite smile at your side, as you look up at him. 

“Hi Coco.” 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“What are you up to?” you ask. 

Like a deer caught in headlights, Falco immediately slams the book shut and gives Gabi and Niccolo painstaking glares before awkwardly laughing.

“Nothing! Drawing!” Falco rambles. 

“Are you doing nothing or are you drawing?” you ask. 

“Nothing. I’m doing nothing.” he responds. 

You give Gabi and Niccolo a pointed glare. 

“You would tell me if he was writing my name a hundred times in the Death Note, right?” 

Gabi and Niccolo laugh, as Gabi and Falco immediately run off for their hot chocolate and you move to Niccolo’s side. The group of them join you with their steaming cups of hot chocolate and you shoot Connie a grateful smile when he sets one down in front of you. 

“He really isn’t plotting my death, is he?” you ask Niccolo. 

“No. No. Don’t be silly, Y/N.” he responds. 

You sigh, wrapping your fingers around the warm mug. 

“I know. I just haven’t…fought with him like this before. It’s weird to have an awkward air to us.” you respond. 

“You haven’t fought with Falco, ever. You guys both fight with me.” Colt corrects. 

“Well, you’re annoying, Colt.” you respond. 

You turn back to Niccolo, gesturing for him to give you an explanation. 

“Falco’s trying to impress you, Y/N.” Niccolo states. 

“Huh?” 

“He’s writing a song. Trying to prove to you that he should be here.” he states. 

You deflate. You never meant to make Falco feel like you thought he was untalented. That he didn’t deserve to be here. 

“Is the song good? Please tell me he’s a songbird and less of a…falcon.” Connie responds. 

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Connie.” Mikasa deadpans, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh, it’s great. I can tell he has a lot of promise, this is the type of stuff we get in demos at the label.” Niccolo responds. 

“Label?” you ask. 

“I worked with a label for a while back as a producer. I kind of decided it wasn’t my thing a while ago and went into acting.” Niccolo states. 

“Would you happen to know anything about like…making deals regarding albums and stuff?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” 

The smallest spark of hope flares in you. 

“I have a dilemma. I was wondering if you could shed some light on it for me?” you ask. 

“Sure. What’s up?” Niccolo asks. 

Eren and Connie give each other a look. 

“When I signed on with Danny and Sareen, I promised the label four albums. The thing is, I…kind of fired them before I got to the fourth one and then released that one independently.” 

“You fired them?” Gabi asks, eyes wide. 

“Yeah. They…they weren’t great. Anyways, they’re kind of claiming that they have ownership under the fourth album and that it’s in violation of my contract with them to have released something before the contract was up. So all of the royalties for streaming the songs goes to them but since I’m not technically an employee of the label anymore they…..they don’t pay me a cent of the money.” 

The group of them go silent, eyes wide as they stare back at you. You note that Levi and Hange’s ears perk up from where they’re standing too, five feet away in the kitchen with the mugs. 

“Which album is this, Y/N?” Annie asks. 

“The Lucky One.” 

“What?” Annie states. 

The group of them break out into their own chatter, Connie and Eren being noticeably silent in the mix. Annie and Armin are going on about how ridiculous it is, Porco making it a point to note that it’s your most streamed albums, that the money must be somewhere in the millions as you give them all a polite smile. 

“Is there anything I can do, Nico?” you ask. 

Niccolo sighs. 

“I don’t know many people who have been successful with this type of thing. But I’ll see what I can find out for you, okay? We’ll think of something.” Niccolo responds, his mouth upturned as he frowns at you. 

“Okay. Thanks Nico, I-I was just wondering. I’m not holding my breath about it or anything.” you respond. 

The group of them shuffle back into their own individual conversations, as Mikasa takes the empty seat at your side.

“Hey.” 

“I’m sorry you don’t get any of the money for the Lucky One, Y/N. It’s a really great album.” 

“Thank you, Mikasa. Really.” you respond, squeezing her hands in yours. 

You both lift your mugs, the silence enveloping the two of you as you try to think of the words. 

To make amends. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your engagement party.” you respond. 

“Oh- that’s-” 

“Can I…can I explain?” you ask. 

Mikasa nods. 

“I found out that I didn’t own the album anymore the day before the party. And I had every intention of coming actually, I had packed the bags and bought a dress and booked a plane ticket but…” 

You sigh. 

“My music is the one thing that I owned. If there was any merit to me, if people called me fake and a slut and everything in between, there was….little they could say about the music. It was mine. I wrote it, I put my heart and soul into it just to…” you ramble. 

“I can imagine, Y/N.” Mikasa responds, softly. 

“It’s….it took so much out of me to make all four of those albums. And it’s not that I’m not proud of them but they were the reason it was so hard. To think that they still make money off of me, after everything they did is…” 

“A good reason not to come to an engagement party.” Mikasa finishes.

“I should have been there still. Or at least told you. About everything that happened and I’m really sorry about that but-” 

Mikasa sets her mug down at the table and immediately wraps her arms around you, her hands soft in your hairs as you deflate into your shoulder. When you look up, Connie, Jean, and Eren are smiling at the two of you and you make it a point to glare at them. Connie mouths something that looks an awful lot like “maid of honor” which has you rolling your eyes.  

When you all shuffle back into your rooms, Mikasa gives you a tight hug before you go to bed. And you relish in what you can get. 

--

“Your head is going to explode if you think any harder.” Levi states, crossing his legs as he sits beside you on the floor. 

You sigh, hiking your knees to your chest. You watch Falco and Kaya run around the set, playing with the extra ODM gear lying around the set. He’s laughing hard, excitedly panting as he runs along the perimeter of the room. 

“Talk.” Levi states. 

“Am I a cavewoman, Levi?” you mutter. 

“Evidently.” Levi responds. 

You sigh. 

“I’m just wondering how we’re going to protect Falco, Gabi, and Kaya from all this stuff.” you murmur. 

Levi meets your line of vision, watching the three of them now running around. And you and Levi rise to have the same conversation you had months ago, though relatively calmer this time around. 

“I understand why you want to, but you have to let go of that, Y/N.” Levi responds. 

“Why? He’s my brother, Levi. And Gabi and Kaya are so sweet, they’re so…full of life. I’d hate to see that ripped from them just because people are horrible.” you murmur. 

“Did you listen when I warned you, Y/N? Did Eren?” he asks. 

You rest your chin against the tops of your knees, as you hug your knees closer to your chest. 

“Levi…” 

“There are some lessons you have to learn on your own. You can’t learn their lessons for them. All you can do is be there to catch them if they fall.” Levi responds. 

You lean your head against the back wall. 

“It’s a touch pill to swallow and I get that. Trust me, I’ve been ten different levels of frustrated with myself when I wasn’t able to stop certain things from happening. But-” 

“None of those things were your fault, Levi.” you respond. 

“If something does happen to Falco and Gabi, it won’t be your fault either.” 

You sigh. 

“Everyone goes through things like this. These aren’t just…isolated to us because we’re famous. Granted, they are on public display for people to see, but everyone goes through this kind of thing. These are just the…obstacles that we’ve been given.” Levi responds. 

“Okay, Levi. I’ll try to get there.” you respond. 

Levi looks over at you, eyebrows raised. 

“You feeling okay? You’re listening to me without any pushback?” he states, lightly shoving you. 

“Shut up. I’m turning over a new leaf. Trying to do this thing called making amends.” you respond. 

Levi smiles in response, a hand coming down on your hair. 

“Consider us amended. So what’s your deal with Mikasa then?” he states. 

You groan. 

“She’s your cousin, Levi. You tell me what her deal is with me.” you respond. 

“I believe she picked our resident pain in the ass, Amy, as her maid of honor because she literally had to pick one. The wedding isn’t too far out and she needs the help since Jean can’t help when it comes to type of this thing.” Levi resopnds. 

You hum in response. 

“Not that Amy is any help either. Not that I hate my own family but…Amy’s always been a bit of a…tough nut to swallow. She’s made a couple of weird comments to Hange, so obviously I hate her. Just doesn’t understand the whole fame thing, that’s all.” 

You snort. 

“It’s weirdly nice to have her around. I- she asks me all these overbearing questions. Kind of prepares me for when I’ll start having to do press again.” you murmur. 

“I won’t send you on the press tour unless you’re ready for it. And you know there will be multiple with the season being split into three, so…don’t rush into it all.” Levi responds. 

You nod, giving him a polite smile. 

“Thank you, Levi. For always being there to catch me.” you respond. 

“Don’t thank me for basic human decency, brat.” Levi spits, standing up to join Hange on the other side of the room. 

You smile as you walk up to Connie, who is aggressively scribbling on the whiteboard. There’s two columns and his chicken scratch handwriting on the space. 

Father versus Daddy. 

“Is anyone going to explain?” you ask, settling into the seat between Mikasa and Sasha. 

“They’re ranking everyone’s new Season Four looks. But Connie’s insisting that you cannot compare fathers and daddies. And Jean is forcing us all to do it anyways.” Sasha explains. 

You hum in response, as you tune into Connie’s incessant rambling. 

“No, listen. Why would you compare Reiner and Eren? That’s not even the same playing field!” Connie shouts. 

“Well, if you’re making an objective list, you have to compare them.” Jean states. 

“Whose the daddy and the father between Reiner and Eren?” you ask. 

“Princess, don’t ask stupid questions.” Connie states, rolling his eyes. 

“What? It’s a valid question.” you deflect. 

“Eren is obviously the daddy. And Reiner is father. Look at that beard.” Connie states, grabbing Reiner by the cheeks and squishing his skin. 

You smile. 

“Facial hair really suits you, Reiner. Unlike some people.” 

There’s a good amount of laughter, as you look over at Eren who rolls his eyes at you. 

“Okay, everyone pick. Are we picking Eren or Reiner for the first spot?” Connie asks. 

“I still think it’s rude that I was eliminated at the last round. It’s very hard to pull off a mullet.” Jean states. 

“Stop quoting your fiance! You lost out fair and square.” Niccolo shouts. 

After Connie counts the votes, Reiner beats out Eren by one vote, to which Reiner’s satisfiedly smiles. Levi calls for Eren to start filming, as you turn on your seats to watch him film. 

The ends of Eren’s voice are lost to you as he takes his shirt off and the group of you go silent. 

Eren’s raking his fingers through his own hair as he secures it at the back of his neck, just for Connie to start hollering at him and Jean starts wolf whistling. There’s a pink flush climbing up Eren’s neck as he flips the two of them off, before turning back to Levi. 

“Can I change my vote?” Pieck asks, earning a fit of laughter from the group. 

And you’d love to relish in the discourse, because Eren’s clearly been working out, but you’re entirely distracted by the three, jagged pink scars running along the length of Eren’s back. The makeup team is quick to walk onto the set, quickly masking the scarred tissue as Eren shoots them a polite smile. 

“Eren was my celebrity crush when I was little.” Gabi states. 

“Me too!” Kaya responds, the two of them giggling into their hands. 

Falco is seething behind you at their admissions as Connie joins you at your side, picking up on your blank stare as you watch Eren lean forward on the sink. 

“Real cutie, isn’t he?” Connie asks, elbowing you in your side. 

You roll your eyes. 

“You can’t even say no. You voted for him.” Connie responds. 

“Yes. I’m aware, Connie.” 

Levi shoots you and Connie a glare, as you both apologize and quiet your voices. 

“The marks on Eren’s back, Connie.” you murmur, softly. 

Connie nods, almost too understanding of what’s plaguing you. 

“That’s Eren’s story to tell you. But it happened on set, a while back.” 

You look back at Eren, as him and Hange act out the scene. At the raised skin on his back, in between the tautness of his muscle. You absentmindedly think that if you were to run your hands on his bare back, it would no longer be a smooth surface like the last time you held him. There would be raised skin in the mix, that soft, pink tissue. 

“We should just count ourselves lucky that Hange and Levi never endangered our lives when they had us doing stunts.” Connie states. 

You nod, the thought sombering your mood all together when you realize what he means. 

That Eren was hurt by people being careless with his safety. 

“Ask him about it. He’ll tell you.” 

“He doesn’t tell me anything. We just kind of awkwardly pretend nothing happened.”

“Do you ask?” Connie states. 

“What am I supposed to say? Hey, remember when you said our entire relationship was fake on a really popular podcast? What did you mean by that?” 

Connie sighs. 

“Start small. There’s a lot for you both to unpack. It takes a second.” Connie murmurs. 

“There’s a lot for you to unpack too, Connie. Like the fact that you and Eren are best friends? Because the last time I saw you, you quite literally had just fist fought him a few days prior and said he was the reason you were even addicted in the first place.” you respond. 

Connie sighs. 

“I was wrong. When you came, mind you, I was already so far gone. And anything I was saying, you…you shouldn’t give merit to it. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Eren. He was the one who took me to rehab. And made sure that I stayed there. All while he was trying to help Lana and-”

Connie stops abruptly. 

“Just pressure him. He’s been preparing what he’s going to say to you for so long. And he’s just scared to let it all out after so long.” 

You frown, the irritation festering in you, as Eren walks up, a smile plastered on his face. Connie holds his shirt out for him before walking away, as Eren takes the seat next to you. 

“Hi Margaret.” 

“Hi Bruce.” you grumble, glaring at him. 

The two of you sit in silence as you ponder how to approach it, keeping your eyes fixed on the crew changing the set for the next scenes. 

“What happened to your back, Eren?” 

You notice Eren immediately tense up next to you, his hands tightly clasped together, as he swallows hard. 

“Y/N.” 

“I want to know what happened to your back. What you meant when you talked to me backstage at the awards show. Why you took me to that beach.” 

It’s almost like you’ve broken some wall between you, that tiny porcelain barrier that you and Eren never touch. Because Eren’s eyes go wide, his demeanour entirely different, like a downtrodden animal. And he looks just like he did at the awards show, a person who seems miles away. 

“I want to know why the fuck you went on that podcast and acted like you didn’t care about me. I want to know if you fucking care about me, Eren.” 

“Of course I care about you!” he murmurs. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Eren. You insinuating you only wanted me for my body gave me a pause for a second there.” you spit. 

Eren shuts his eyes, in frustration or pain you can’t quite tell, as he unclasps his hands. 

“Why did you let me break up with you because Sareen and Danny asked me to?” you ask. 

“Why did you break up with me because Danny and Sareen told you to, Y/N?” Eren counters. 

Your throat burns. 

“Well, I-” 

“Why did you come to see me for my birthday, Y/N? Could you not tell that I didn’t want you there?” Eren asks. 

The embarrassment courses through you. 

“I came to tell you that I still loved you, Eren. I came there because I wanted to be with you.” you counter. 

“And I stopped talking to you, I pulled away because I couldn’t have you be there with me. That is the last place I could have you be, Y/N.” Eren responds, frustrated. 

“I get it. You don’t want to be with me. You don’t need to keep fucking rem-” 

“Do you have selective hearing? Where did I say that I didn’t want you? I said I couldn’t have you be there with me. Those are two different things.” he seethes. 

You glare at him. 

“You sound like a dumbass, Eren. Your actions were literally-” 

“What part of that trip made it seem like I didn’t fucking want you? If you critically think, for two seconds Y/N, you would realize that the fact that I fucking loved you so much I couldn’t even stay away when you showed up. But I couldn’t have you there. Because if it came down to it, when I had to pick between covering someone else or taking care of you, I’d pick you. And I…I couldn’t. There was too much at stake and-” Eren rambles. 

“You aren’t even making sense, Eren. What could possibly be at stake?” you shout. 

Eren sighs. 

“Everything, Y/N.” Eren responds, softly. 

He reaches down, taking one of his hands in yours, as he presses hard on your knuckles. There’s nothing behind his eyes, or rather something simmering deep down, as he avoids your gaze. And the entire…demeanour is enough to push back the wave of anger and let that small soft spot that you have for Eren rise up. 

That always coaxed him into talking. 

“Y/N.” 

“What?” 

“I’m asking you that when the time comes, you’ll hear me out. I-I have answers for you. All of them, almost every single one I just need you to wait. For me. Please.” Eren begs. 

You know the look in his eyes too well. The desperation. The same desperation that Eren had when he asked you if you still belonged to him, on that beach. 

And for a second time, you give in. 

“Don’t make me wait forever, Bruce.” 

The wall is back up. 

“I won’t, Margaret.” Eren responds. 

He drops your hands, before walking away with his hands shaking, as you swallow that acidic bile in your throat. And try to rack your mind for the hundredth time, trying to figure out what Eren means. 

--

There’s something about Sasha and Niccolo that makes your heart yearn.

You place your hands flat on Sasha’s shoulders, wrapping your coat around her arms, as she smiles at you in the mirror. You’ve braided the front of her hair, Mikasa’s twisted little flowers into the ends, and Gabi’s brushed all your sparkly makeup over her face to the best of her desires. 

Because Sasha and Niccolo are going on their first date. 

And there’s something about both of their demeanours, the way they act around each other, that leaves a pit in your chest. And comes with a mix of emotions - going every which way. 

First, an overwhelmingly abundant feeling of happiness for Sasha. Because if her words were any inkling to you, it seems like this agonizing want, to be held, to be loved, is something that has plagued Sasha for years. And being here - being around Jean and Mikasa, Levi and Hange, even you and Eren - you’re almost positive that Sasha’s been walking around with this pit, with this yearning in her chest her entire life. 

It almost makes it sweeter that she’s getting it now. 

Second, there’s some part of it that leaves you with this warm, soft feeling in your stomach. Because the group of you - Sasha, Mikasa, Annie, Pieck, and even Gabi - you’d spent all day together. Picking out Sasha’s outfit, letting her pick out the jewelery, and tell you all the things that Niccolo had planned for her. 

That the two of them were going to go on a picnic, by a lake nearby. That Niccolo had spent all this time planning the date with all the guys - that Eren told him about the place, that Jean picked out the food to make with him, that Connie’s been giving one liners to Niccolo to use the entire night. 

And third, it makes you long for something you don’t quite have anymore. That at one point, there was someone that filled you with that type of joy. That you know the full extents of her happiness, because you were once in that spot, and even worse, know exactly what could be waiting for her if things go south. 

It leaves you with many things. Longing, yearning, fear, and protectiveness. Over Sasha. 

Downstairs, Eren is having the same feelings, as the group of them threaten Niccolo at the dining table. Jean, Connie, Armin, and Eren made it a point to make sure that Niccolo, sweet sweet Niccolo, was going to show Sasha the time of her life tonight. 

Connie’s having way too much fun with it. Meaning, that he’s got a flood light that he stole from set that he’s shining in Niccolo’s face. Like he’s in an interrogation. 

“What are your intentions with Sasha, Niccolo? If that’s even your real name.” Connie seethes. 

“Niccolo is my real name. And I just want to take her on a date. M-make her feel special.” 

“Likely story, bitch boy.” Jean screams, slamming his fist down on the table. 

Eren looks over, giving Armin a weary look, as Jean and Connie continue. 

“What food did you make, lover boy?” Connie asks. 

“Um, Sasha once mentioned that she wanted to try ratatouille? Like from the movie? So I made that and the sides are mashed potatoes since she likes-” 

“How do you know she’s going to like it? What are you going to do if she doesn’t?” Jean asks. 

“Take her somewhere else. Make sure that she eats something she likes?” Niccolo asks, a bead of sweat on his forehead. 

Armin leans over, whispering in Eren’s ear. 

“They’re having way too much fun doing this. I almost feel bad for the guy.” Armin states. 

“I know. Sasha’s going to wring their necks out when she finds out they did this.” Eren responds. 

“That, I want a front row show for. Sasha always has the funniest insults.” 

“God, I know. I’m so lucky she wasn’t there when we were all talking about Hobo Eren for the first time. I’m afraid my self esteem wouldn’t be able to survive that.” Eren mutters back. 

Armin laughs, with has Eren’s chest writhing in ten different ways, as Connie starts interrogating Niccolo about where he’s going to place his hands on Sasha tonight. 

“Okay, Con. That’s enough.” Eren states, giving Armin a knowing look as they both take a seat across from Niccolo. 

“Ah. Right, I hope you know that I-I have the best intentions with Sasha tonight. I really, really like her and I would never do anything to hurt her.” Niccolo states, hands up in defense as he looks at Armin and Eren. 

Eren fights the urge to smile. 

“You better.” Eren states, face blank as he looks at Niccolo. 

“H-huh?” Niccolo asks. 

“You heard him. You better.” Armin repeats, mimicking Eren’s expression. 

“Right. I-I just said that I did.” Niccolo responds. 

“Great. Then we won’t have a problem. Do you want a problem, Niccolo?” Armin states, folding his hands on the table. 

“N-no.” he responds. 

“Why did you stutter, Niccolo?” Eren asks, pinching his eyes at him. 

On cue, Eren and Armin are cut off from their version of Jean and Connie’s interrogation, which they’re sure is more horrifying than theirs, as all the girls run down the stairs and start giggling. Eren’s thrown off by the excited look on your face, at your hands linked with Mikasa. 

“Oh! Oh, Nico stand up! You look so cute.” you state, squeezing Mikasa’s hands as you look at him. 

His soft blonde curls are tamed against his forehead, the tiniest bouquet of little flowers bunched up in his hands. You can tell that he’s a little nervous - from the way he’s awkwardly smiling at the group of you and the little flush on his cheeks - which has your heart squelching even more. 

“Sasha’s a lucky girl.” Mikasa agrees, a wide smile on her face. 

“Speaking of Sasha, I think she’s ready.” Annie states. 

The group of you all stand to the side, arm linked with Sasha’s, as Sasha stumbles down the stairs. Niccolo and Sasha have matching pink flushes rushing up their necks as they awkwardly smile at each other, Sasha stumbling over her words when Niccolo hands her the flowers and Niccolo nearly losing it over Sasha calling him handsome. 

“You two. If I found out you bothered him, I’m going to wring your necks out.” Sasha states, pointing over to the boys with a menacing glare. 

“We didn’t do anything!” Jean whines. 

“I’m not talking to you, Jean. I’m talking to you two.” Sasha states, accusingly pointing at Eren and Armin. 

“We didn’t do anything. Right, Niccolo?” Eren asks, giving him his best peachy smile. 

“Of course not!” Niccolo states, linking his hands with Sasha as the two of them give you all waves goodbye and you all clump by the door to watch them settle into the car. 

Armin and Eren are directly behind you, giggling about something, as the two of them drive off. 

“You guys are so mean. You probably scared the guy to death.” you state. 

“It was nothing that wasn’t necessary, Y/N.” Eren responds, crossing his hands over his chest. 

“If anything, I would argue it was noble. Wouldn’t you agree, Eren?” Armin states, leaning his elbow on Eren’s shoulder, like he’s deep in thought. 

“I think I would, Armin.” Eren responds, the two of them giving admonishing look. 

“He’s a sweet guy!” you whine. 

“We know that. But this is Sasha. I can’t have him going around thinking he’s in her league or something.” Eren states. 

“Sasha is basically a national treasure. We’re have to remind him of his place here.” Armin states. 

You roll your eyes, pushing past the both of them, as you roll your eyes. You pad into the kitchen, rummaging around for snacks, as Eren follows behind you. And right when you’re about to pour yourself a bowl of cereal, Eren’s quick to snatch the box from your hands. 

“Sorry. We’re eating proper food for dinner tonight.” Eren states, giving you a peachy smile. 

“You’re so annoying.” you grumble, trying to reach for the box again. 

“Cereal is good. But you have to balance it out. With some protein or add some fruits in it or something.” Eren adds. 

“Or I can just eat it right now and you can quit it.” 

“Nope. We’re eating pasta.” Eren states, now rummaging through all the cabinets as he sets out to make the food. 

You push up on the counter, dangling your feet off the edge, as you get a weird sense of deja vu. 

Of your first date with Eren. 

“Can I cut the vegetables?” 

Eren looks over, just to give you a pointed glare. And you fight the urge to laugh, and ignore that stirring in your chest, that he remembers. Or more appropriately, still doesn’t trust you to cook in the kitchen with him. 

“Do you think you’re some kind of comedian, Margaret?”

“No. I’m a really good cook now. You can trust me.” 

Eren leans against the counter, a hand on his hip, as you roll your eyes. 

“Right. Need I remind you, you almost set the house on fire a few days ago. God knows what you’re going to do if I let you do this.” Eren sneers. 

“You’re so-” 

“For all we know, you’re going to start a grease fire! And then try to throw water at it to put it out.” 

“Do you not put fires out with water?” 

Eren laughs. 

“Oil and water don’t mix, princess. Were you born yesterday?” 

You fight the urge to laugh, at how sassy Eren is being, as you reach for the vegetables lying directly to his side. And when you pull out the cutting board and the knife from the drawer, Eren’s scoffing at you. 

“Yeah, right. Use the safety knife.” Eren states. 

“Am I five years old, Eren?” 

“Litearlly yes. Give me like two minutes, I’ll do it.” Eren responds. 

You roll your eyes, as you attend to cutting the little vegetables, dicing the onions and the bell peppers to the best of your ability. 

“Do you think Sasha’s having fun?” you ask. 

“It’s Niccolo. I’m sure he’s putting on a good time for her. And if he isn’t, Armin and I are going to wring his neck out when he comes back.” 

“You and Armin, huh?” 

Eren’s shoulders deflate, the smallest makings of a smile on his face. 

“It’s not anything like that, Y/N. We just don’t play about Sasha, that’s all.” Eren responds. 

“Or, you two are making amends. Baby steps.” 

Eren smiles. 

“Maybe. I hope so.” he responds. 

“I love how you guys are all protective of Sasha. It’s really sweet, actually.” you murmur. 

“Well, it’s Sash. She’s basically like our little sister.” Eren responds. 

“I know. But it just reminds me of when we were younger and stuff. Sasha, she never really had someone interested in her like that. I think some part of her really internalized that type of stuff, so I’m glad we’re all able to make her feel special now.” you respond. 

“How so?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t really speak to it personally, but from what Sasha said, some part of her took it really seriously. That it was something about her, that it was her personality or her looks and that’s why people didn’t like her like that.” 

Eren frowns. 

“Sasha’s beautiful. And she’s funny. We’re so protective of her because she’s so special.” Eren responds. 

“I know that. I just mean, when you don’t get that type of attention, you tend to…let it stick with you. It even happens to people who haven’t been in relationships for a while. Like the yearning, the longing for something like that just makes you kind of…down.” you mumble. 

Eren looks over at you, green eyes peering into yours. 

“Are you down, Y/N?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“I was just asking if you were down. It’s been a while since you’ve been in a relationship.” Eren responds, the tone of his voice heartfelt. 

You sigh. 

“Okay, Mr. Long Term Relationship. I don’t want to seem like I’m jealous of Sasha, I’m actually really happy for her-” 

“I’m not in a long term relationsip.” Eren responds. 

“You’re not?” you ask. 

Eren looks over at you and frowns. 

“Did you really go into hibernation the two years you were gone? I haven’t been in a relationship for almost a year and a half now.” Eren responds. 

“Oh.” 

Eren smiles. 

“Yeah, oh. But continue with what you were saying.” Eren gestures. 

“I don’t know. Sometimes you just want someone to hold you.” you respond. 

You reach for the next set of vegetables, the slicing sound distracting you from that palpable tension in the air. 

“I get that. I feel that way too sometimes. Especially around Jean and Mikasa.” Eren responds. 

“God, don’t get me started. They’re so sweet it makes my stomach hurt.” you respond. 

You must have been too distracted by the premise, because you cut down into the softness of your fingers and immediately hiss in pain. Eren’s all too quick to move to your side, his head peering over your shoulder as he immediately starts scolding you. 

“You know, this is why I told you not to cut the vegetables, Margaret.”

“Are you really having an “I told you so moment” while I’m bleeding out, Bruce?” you deadpan. 

“You aren’t bleeding out, drama queen.” 

Eren’s quick to reach over you, pulling out the stack of alcohol wipes and bandaids from the cupboard. He places his hands on your shoulders, twisting you to face him as he holds his hand out. You instinctively high five his hand, which he rolls his eyes at. 

“Your other hand, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes as you place your injured hand in his, ignoring his featherlike touch on your fingers as he carefully wraps the Cinderella bandaid around your finger. When Eren’s all set and done, he lightly curls his hand around yours, just to immediately pull it back when he realizes what he’s done. 

“Thanks.” you respond. 

“No problem. Now move over and let me cut these before I have to put a tourniquet on you.” Eren states, sliding you slightly to the side. 

You watch Eren in silence, as he attentively makes the dinner for the two of you. And try to banish the thought from your mind, that if you and Eren were still together, that this is what every night would look like for the two of you. That he would have held you, when you said you wanted to be held. 

“Have you written any new music lately?” Eren asks, plating the food onto the dishes before picking up both and gesturing for you to follow. 

You shake your head, twisting the forks in your fingers. 

“I actually haven’t written anything since the Lucky One. Since happiness.” 

The two of you eat in silence, before Eren speaks again. 

“It’s a beautiful song, Y/N.” 

“Thank you.” you murmur. 

The interviews fresh on your mind, particularly the fact that you have confirmation now that Eren’s watched it, which has your words, rather embarrassingly, ringing in your mind. 

Eren Jaeger is the love of my life. He’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, he’s all too willing to understand you. Too willing to meet you where you are, as you are, and look past all the bad parts of you. 

You look over at him. 

He’s still your Eren. 

“Have you met the new you yet, Y/N?” Eren asks. 

You understand what he means. 

Have you forgiven him yet? 

“I don’t know. There’s still some things I don’t know, Eren. And I’ve been patient but-” 

“Everyone’s leaving for the first press tour on Friday.” Eren states. 

You tilt your head to the side, in confusion. 

“Everyone except you and me.” Eren adds. 

“Oh.” 

“I’ll have your answers. I just…I can’t have anyone here when we talk about this. All of it and-” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want anyone here anyways. I can’t have any accomplices to my homicide.” you state. 

Eren laughs, reaching over to lightly shove your shoulder, as he gestures for you to keep eating.

“Just two more days, okay?” Eren whispers. 

“Okay, Eren.” you respond, a silent chill running down your spine. 

You tap his foot under the table on instinct. And he taps on your foot back. 

--

Falco’s seated at the piano, his entire demeanour a mix of nerves. His hairs a tousled mess, certainly from running his hands through it a hundred times, a sizable bead of sweat on his forehead, and his hands shaking underneath his legs. 

You’re all sat around him in a circle, everyone anticipating Gabi’s arrival, as you all watch Falco nervously twitch on the bench. Last night, after Levi had finished his press brief, preparing everyone for answers to common questions (the main one being about whether or not you’re returning for season four), Falco cleared his throat and asked you all for a special request. 

For everyone to gather on the set, early morning before everyone leaves for the press tour tomorrow. And after he shuffled out of the room, Niccolo made you all aware that he was planning on playing his new song for you. 

Naturally, you all obliged. You’re all stuck in your own conversations, quietly musing and sharing the extra blankets on set, as Eren settles down next to you, crossing his legs over one another as he sits at your side. He’s holding out an extra blanket for you, which you gratefully smile at him for, before wrapping around yourself. 

“Good morning, Margaret.” 

“Hi Bruce.” 

Eren smiles, his entire demeanour shifting. He’s the most calm you’ve seen him, at least in a while. You think it suits him. Meanwhile, you can’t help but feel like an anxious ball of nerves just being here next to him. 

“Ready?” Eren asks.

Your heart drops. 

“For?” 

“Hearing Falco’s song. I heard from Gabi that it’s really great.” Eren states. 

Right. He definitely wasn’t asking about the conversation you guys were going to have when everyone left. 

“Yeah. I’m excited.” you respond. 

“Me too.” 

You swallow hard, giving Falco a smile as he glances over at you. 

“And I didn’t forget, Y/N.” he adds, voice quiet so you’re the only one who can hear it. 

You nod in response, acknowledging his words, as the dryness overtakes your throat. And on cue, Gabi runs into set, her hood pulled over her head, as she all but rambles as she walks in. 

“Ah! Falco, guys. Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry. I woke up late and then couldn’t find my clothes and-” 

“It’s okay, Gabi.” Falco responds, giving her a soft smile. 

“Oh, Falco. I really am sorry. But I’m here now. And you’ve got this!” she responds, holding her hand out. 

Falco smiles big, reaching forward as him and Gabi complete some long winded and complicated handshake. And when they’re done, Gabi settles into the seat right next to Eren, as he reaches forward to pull the hood of her jacket down and she gives him an excited smile. 

“Sorry for making you guys do this. I just-” 

Falco stops short, absentmindedly pressing on one of the keys. 

“Y/N has told me so much about what doing press is like. Before, when I was younger. That sometimes people would ask her questions that were weirdly inappropriate or…or ask her different questions than her male co-stars and…” 

Your heart clenches. 

“It bothered me so much to think that people said stuff like that to my sister. And now that I know all of you, I hate to think you’ve all been doing press like that too. I figure we’d all leave today on a high note? And I could share something I’ve been doing for a while with you, if that’s okay.” Falco rambles, the smallest flush creeping up his neck. 

You all smile, huddling closer into your blanket as Falco starts playing the piano. 

Floorboards creaking in my home Deathly silence when alone Oh, I wish that you were here right now So unlike me, somehow I Fell in love in just three nights Those November days still haunting me

Falco’s always been a great singer. He’s always been like this - so full of energy, his voice so full of life. And you’re sure that the tears falling down your cheeks, the smile creeping up on your face, is a byproduct of the hundreds of thoughts running across your mind, but mainly the pride swelling in your chest.

That Falco’s not five anymore and that he doesn’t need your help reaching the high cabinets. And that he may not always hold your hand like he did when he was seven, but he never flinches or denies you when you ask him to. Or that really, Falco’s grown up. 

And you’re almost positive that Falco’s in love. With Gabi, whose smiling at him in awe, the clear signs of pride on her face as she watches him press down on the keys, his soft voice filling the air. 

When the gold rays fell on your skin And my hair got caught in the wind The choir sang a melancholic hymn (ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah) In the morning, you would gone I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To the memory of your lips God, I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?

You look around the room to find Jean pulling Mikasa flesh against his chest, Sasha and Niccolo reaching to hold each other’s hands, Hange absentmindely leaning her head on Levi’s shoulder, just for him to bring his hand up to comb through her hair. 

You look over at Eren, the soft smile on his face as he lightly bobs his head to the music. You must have been staring at him full on, because he looks over at you and smiles. 

“When did Coco grow up?” he whispers. 

“I’m literally getting a stomach ache thinking about how he’s not a baby anymore.” you respond, frowning at Falco as he finishes singing. 

At how sweet he is. At how much you love him. And how you’re going to make sure, without a doubt, that no one gets to take this away from him. 

Everyone reaches to give Falco big hugs, tousling his hair and excitedly shaking his tiny frame, as he makes his way over to where you and Eren are sitting on the floor. He lands criss cross in front of you, the smile not leaving his face. 

“Did you like it, Y/N?” he asks, the look on his face hopeful. 

You reach forward, taking his hands in yours. 

“I loved it, Coco.” 

“Really?” 

“Are you crazy? It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” you respond, squeezing his hands hard. 

Falco excitedly rushes in to hug you, only to tackle you hard straight into the ground. You both laugh, a tangled mix of limbs, and you hug him as hard as you can, trying to squeeze that big writhing feeling of love in your chest right onto him with your arms. 

“I really love you, Y/N.” Falco murmurs. 

“I really love you too, Falco. You’re going to be amazing at this. Like, triple threat level.” you respond. 

“That’s rich coming from you.” Falco responds, pulling out of your arms as you pinch his cheek. 

“Takes one to know one.” you respond. 

You cup Falco’s face in your hands. 

“You’ve got this. Really.” you murmur. 

“I know.” 

“Good. And remember, if anyone says anything shitty to Gabi-” 

“I’ll defend her.” he responds. 

You smile. 

“I’ve taught you well. Though, you’ve never really needed my help. You’ve always been great on your own.” 

“I’m lucky to learn from the best. And to have you. To protect me from all the bad stuff.” he adds. 

You smile. 

“I wish someone got to do it for you.” Falco adds. 

“That’s okay. You were always there. You did more for me than you know.” 

Falco smiles. 

“Wanna know a secret?” Falco asks. 

You nod.

“I know everyone hated those two years that you were gone. But they were my favorite.” Falco responds. 

You smile hard, reaching forward to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Me too. I finally know how to hit people on Roblox now.” 

Falco laughs, turning his head to respond to Gabi and Kaya who are calling him at your sides. Armin’s standing post with his camera, gesturing for him to join the picture. 

And little by little, you watch every last one of them pad out of the set, the group of them giving you wistful goodbyes and promises to tell at least one interviewer to go fuck themselves on your behalf, until you and Eren are left sitting alone, on the bench of the piano. 

He turns to you, green eyes wide and round, as they peer into yours. 

“Ready, Y/N?” 

You take a deep breath in. 

“Yeah. Where should we start?” you murmur. 

“We should start here.” Eren states, handing you a little plastic box. 

You take it in your hands, inspecting it in your fingers and flipping it over. It’s a little green CD, with unmistakable handwriting markered onto the top. 

Fine Line. 

You swallow hard. 

“Is that Sukuna’s handwriting?” you ask. 

“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that.” Eren responds, rolling his eyes. 

“What?” 

“You two together has been a sore spot for me since I was sixteen. And I’m not even going to ask you why you’re able to recognize his handwriting straight off the bat.” Eren teases. 

You roll your eyes. 

“What is this, Eren?” you ask. 

“Anything you could possibly want to know is on there.” he responds. 

You nod, as the two of you stand up and march back to the townhouse in silence. You twist the little box in your fingers, the CD glimmering in the light outside. When you finally make it back, you push it into the little box and take a deep breath. 

Eren reaches for your hand and squeezes. Three times. 

And you press play.

--

next part linked here

an, again: ARE YOU READY FOR IT?? in the efforts of being charitable, here's the song line up for the next chapter: ever since new york by harry styles, clean by taylor swift, all of the girls you've loved before, last kiss by taylor swift, sparks by coldplay, and obviously, fine line by harry styles. make of that what you will.

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @mrksnctzen @spiidergirlsworld

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

if you ignore arab colonization and pretend that jews were never oppressed by Arabs, then you should not be speaking about jewish-muslim solidarity. that solidarity does not mean jewish people have to pretend like the Islamic Arab world never hurt us and still is hurting us. it does not mean we need to go "awww you poor people its ok you tried to kill us we aren't mad lets sing and dance together". it does not mean that jewish people have to be nice when muslims kill us, rape us, burn our children, and take our people.

ik someone is thinking "but not all muslims do that!" and they're right! some do though, and we are under no obligation to forgive them. there are plenty of muslims who are kind, loving, accepting people who do not do that, and those are the people that we want solidarity with. surprisingly, a group of nearly 2 billion people is not a monolith!

jewish-muslim solidarity means that we can and should move forward together while also recognizing the pain of the past and the present. it means that we will stand up against radical islamism and for the right of jewish and muslim people to coexist. the things we do today aren't gonna make arab colonization not a real thing, but we can definitely make the future better. plus if you're living in a Christian dominated place then its so good to ally yourself with other non-christians.

[darkshrimpemotions]

Sometimes I'm struck anew by how unhinged Twilight really is like. The whole thing happens over a span of less than 2 years. Esme doesn't even have her own car. Jasper is a proud Confederate and NO ONE seems to have a problem with that. Edward and Bella making out sounds like porcelain cups clinking together. When Edward says they couldn't stand being within five miles of Rosalie and Emmett when they first got married, he meant that LITERALLY because not only is there ZERO privacy when you live with a bunch of creatures who have super-hearing, he specifically could also HEAR THEIR THOUGHTS while they were doing it.

Can you imagine the sibling fights when one of you is a mind-reader and one of you can literally say "I told you so" BEFORE you even make the bad decision? Especially when every bad decision has a LITERAL body count? Do you think Jasper ever uses his powers to piss everyone off just for the Drama?

And on top of that you've got people from VERY different time periods with VERY different value systems and I guarantee none of them has updated those values since at least 1957 because they are, at the end of the day, rich white colonizers.

You just know every goddamn day in the Cullen household is like an unairable episode of Jerry Springer crossed with Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

[aphroditesmoon]

children of the empire

king!jacaerys valeryon x reader

summary: the tale of the king and the slave.

warnings: slave!reader, infidelity, hurt/comfort, angst, childbirth, grief, death, inspired by paul and chani from dune book series.

A/N: just jace and reader being wholly devoted to eachother

wc: 1.4k

----

HE KNEW THE two of you were destined to be together from the moment he laid his eyes on you. After the coronation held for him as King, multiple houses that had changed the course of their loyalty at the last minute had begun to seek the now young King Jacaerys’ favor. And so began the parade of gifts from ornaments, jewels and women were presented. Exotic slaves from colonized lands were brought forth to the king. He had sat on the throne as if it was made just for him. The throne his mother had not been given the privilege to sit on for even a whole year. 

By his side, was his once betrothed and now Queen Baela. Their union was celebrated the way their parents would have wanted, and the two tried their hardest to uphold all the traditions and rulings to make worth of the sacrifices and bloodshed in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen.  

In everyone’s eyes, the pair was unstoppable, a united front with grudging respect for the other. A pair not only blessed with deserving power, but also with love. 

But no one knew what really lied behind closed doors. The King Jacaerys and Queen Baela Targaryen had not loved one another. They might’ve liked each other in a way, back then. But the war and deaths have changed them both forever. They could not find any semblance of romantic attraction or comfort in the other. They had mourned their families in such a similar way, yet somehow still jarringly different. To find intimacy with the other was to face unspoken grief. 

Jacaerys had thought that the loveless marriage would be the end of him ever experiencing a pure, tender bond with anyone. But he had seen you in a line of tired looking, plain and pretty girls, and he had sworn he’d seen you in a dream before.  

If his mother was alive, she would be cursing him off his head. In fact, sometimes he hears her too. Yelling, and calling him a failure of a son, as he’s holding your thighs open, plunging himself deeper inside of you. An affair had by kings wasn’t uncommon, but he wondered how many of them were of love and not lust. He knew he would love you like his mother loved his father. But no matter how much of him is his mother’s son, he would not let you suffer the same end as his father.��

He learned quickly that you weren’t as docile as you looked. Ask the wrong question and you’ll snap back. And yet, you were also not as hostile as you make yourself to be. You scold him like no one dares to do to the King, and you call him names on days he’s being particularly irritating, receiving a rising reaction from his shocked and baffled advisor and guards. But he knew that you were harmless. And you knew that a man like him can take a few jabs. And as much as the insults keep on coming, you advise him like no one does either.  

You run your fingers through his hair like you’d give up everything you have to be able to touch him. And he looks up to your standing figure through his mussed-up hair as he kneels down with his arms circling your waist, like no one could ever look to even the greatest of kings. 

“You will carry my children.” He had once told you.

The late-night silence where only the wind was able to speak louder than either of you, making anything he was saying sound possible. “Your queen will hold a knife to my throat.” You responded, feeling him pull you closer to his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. “I would not let any other woman be the mother to my children except you.”  

You let out a hoarse laugh that sounded almost too cynical to his liking. “I am not your woman, even if I am your property. Any child you have with me is a child destined for a life of suffering.” Had he not been so tired, he would have presented a stronger case after seeing you argue with much more fire even in such an hour. But instead, he only shook his head hard enough for you to feel his disagreement. “You are not my property.” You hummed with your ear to his heart. “I would be yours if you’ll have me, and I’d let you rob me naked if that be your heart’s desire.” You let out a scoff you always do when you’re finding him ridiculous and drunk. Only soft kings dare to dream, a reminder you bring up constantly to him. All because you knew what usually happens to those kinds of rulers, and even if you wouldn’t say it out loud, you cared for him too much to see him resigned to such a fate.  

Three months later, you were with child. Brimmed with joy, Jacaerys had vowed to legalize the babe as soon as it comes out. And even with his queen’s relentless challenging to his title and responsibility, he refuses to send you away. He asks her forgiveness for the disrespect the child’s birth would be to her, but his mind was set.  

An illegitimate royal child was not unheard of, and Jacaerys’ fortunate case of being a man helps lessen the cacophony of riots and disagreement within the council. But when it had been confirmed that the child would be legalized and appointed as his heir. How can a scion of the Targaryen family be a bastard made by bastards.  

And yet with every voice raised against him, his assurance only becomes stronger. Every drink you take and every meal you eat will be tested first for poison. And every move you make would be supervised and followed by personal guards that were starting to make you regret being with him.  6 months into the pregnancy, you had relented into staying in your chambers, his overprotectiveness had become more obvious. Not even the Queen was granted to visit you, in fear of bad intentions.  

His actions had hurt Baela, for she expected him to know better what kind of person she is in terms of morality.  

When your water finally broke, he was 20 minutes late. When a guard had run to him in the throne room to announce the birth, he didn’t need to be told twice to get himself off the iron throne, running to you as fast as he could. You had given birth to a set of twins. A girl, and a boy. He had made it to you in the last few seconds before you let out your final breath. You had whispered his name as he squeezes your hand in a fist while apologizing profusely. “I couldn’t have belonged to anyone else, even if I wanted to.” He had cried by your side. You responded with a confession you’ve never uttered aloud, though both of you already knew what it was. You had breathed out so quietly, words only meant for his ears, “I love you.” The lights in his eyes died out the second you were announced deceased.  

He sat by your cold body for hours before he could be convinced to let his grip on your dead arms off. He held both of his babes for the first and last time in his arms that day before spending the next 2 days locked and isolated in his chambers. Rhaenyra and Lucerys Targaryen. A storm brewed in the sky of Kings Landing. Wild winds and lightning as devastating as his own heart. The people stayed inside as the weather rips off wooden houses and floods the streets in every corner that is 

Baela had tried speaking to him, as gentle as she could, reminding him of his children. But he was non-verbal. And so, she gave up.  

On the third day, Rhaena Targaryen had rushed to her Queen sister, screaming in pure terror as she held up a folded and opened envelope of a letter. The doors to the King’s chambers were slammed open, only to find the place empty. The King hadleft. He had exited the castle to the storms.  

And in his letter contained his want for his wife to rule in his stead until his daughter Rhaenyra reaches the age of 10 and 8, old enough to be wed to her brother, and then after, she’d take her rightful place as Queen.

A legitimate claim to the throne.  

The only other thing written besides his will, was a sentence among the lines, ‘Only a soft king dares to dream. And I am as weak and soft as it can be.’