The Dog with The Treat of Their Face

[scientistxSaturday]

Part 5

They closed the kitchy-classy periwinkle aquamarine door behind them, this was lighter, wood? No slow release, heavier and axle smoother than a normal house door, Metal /and/ wood doors? What was this? A church built over the course of 400 years throughout varying periods of resource availability and architectural philosophies?

***Disclaimers and trigger warnings in the comments***

This was the hallway they heard in their blind daze. The passage began with an alcove that held some futuristic chairs, a wall mounted caddy, giving glimpses of mysterious tools, a nostalgic office hutch, and an instrument they were trying to avoid comprehending. She looks at them as they wince at the instrument, she catches their eyes sternly, like when you give a dog a command you know the dog understands, but the dog is giving a Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor performance of apprehension and confusion, her eyes grow darker, tilting her head decisively down and forward, penetrating her stare, pushing her way right past the ocular nerve and into the prefrontal cortex, the decision-making part of the brain. Making her announcement that there is no budging. It's yes or no. No incredulity.

She takes that stare, like a tractor-beam, and brings it back to the instrument, this time with smugness, knowing she's already won with Saturn inviting such an invasion, an elavated platform waits a half-step above the shiny floor, it is the size of a cutting board, a black rubber topped island edged by white metal siding, free-floating, resting on something unseen below, attached to the metal siding frame on floor, from the back of the siding nearest the wall, a rain gutter thick spine arose, in the center accused a ruler, white on black numbered equidistant horizontal lines. It leads to a white Y shaped intersection on top of which was a black outline of a rectangle, composed of 2 more rulers of sorts, there was something skewered through the middle of the etched rulers, on the top, an upside-down triangle fishing weights with windows carved into them that revealed the number they sat on.

Saturn rocked back in recognition, digging their feet into the ground, bending their knees just slightly into fighting stance, straightening up their back softly as a blooming flower to distract from their intimidation. But no, Her eyes were not strayed by the flourish, gripping up the knees to the eyes again stating plain "if you want to play, this is the game we're playing today."

"Where's your motorcycle?" Their voice caught.

"I get to use the staff parking, I'm in My SUV today, supplies."

"Regarding your earlier question, I thought you knew already, Fawny Columba"

"Oh my liege! Just saying /that/ isn't legally correct, more importantly it's improper! Your full title is Dr. Fánaí Columba." They broke out in as obnoxious a trans-atlantic as they could manage.

"Well, I uh, we're friends,-" her eyes dart side to side at the castle her title earned, no matter how much she didn't want to seem the dillwad who lords her status over others, it was clear from the scenario she has just put Saturn in, and the last few years of her life, how her intitial friendship with Cerith was slowly dampened by nonstop studying, that her Doctorate was part of her identity, that she wished she could casually be acknowledged as such, that this was her world, where she rightfully ruled as an emperor, and why couldn't every other, less important domain of life bow down in frictionless supplication?

"but I suppose that would be appropriate here." her first few steps into the Too Far, and she clearly Likes It.

"I'm Sorry! I'm Sor-ryy Fawny, I couldn't see at the time and your voice sounded different."

"You couldn't see? Are you okay? Are you safe to do this" There the Angel is again.

"Iiiiiii,," they drawl, she's asked this before, they knew doctors generally hate when their friends ask about their medical problems, but if they dumb it down too much they risk insulting her.

"You know what I have, what's "this?""

"Is that normal for you?" "'Ugh!"' they didn't want pity! They didnt want to forcibly drag her down by guilt into helping or even listening!

"N-nooo? Eh- only under very special circumstances"

"Special circumstances?" She tightened forward into a pounce, eyebrows raised pulling her normally cherubic cheeks tight and suspicious.

"Y'know like when I'm really nervous or excited"

"Why would I- this happens every time you are "really nervous"?"

"Haha no! It's only happened around 5 times, 6. I manage it really well. To be clear, sometimes it slowly gets really bad in general, more like being bedridden, but that comes on slowly, not dramatically, not blinding. It's different, being teleported to the sun versus cruising to the center of jupiter, I could explain."

"Well, thats what we're here to figure out, but let's get some general information"

"I'm sorry?"
They blink, a mix of Betty boop and a malfunctioning robot.
As a scientist, you have to be willing to believe the ridiculous, because ridiculousness was the nature of the universe, Saturn always thought the incredulousness of portal fantasy protagonists was anti-scientific, you can choose to believe the evidence of your senses, despite what you were told about the world, (which presumably included the many worlds theory,) or not. That was that.

But this felt more vague, the fact that she refuses to divulge her entire plan is information itself. And this was not a portal, this was a person. Changing the rules of this reality. If this was what it could be, this was not how people interact with each other, this was beyond kink, or any dynamic realer than a temporary fantasy.

Whatever was between them would be forever marked by the very physical, very material act of examination and healing. There is no way to ignore being looked at so deeply, you have to react, or worse, respond.

"What?" She always did this, began an absolutely insane gambit and made you feel odd for questioning it, she was so good at setting a tone, and she used her talent with such unempathetic ambition.

Saturn tried to do a version this, because they did see their acts and plans as logical responses to actually observing the situations at hand, but they never had the heart to add that tone of disgust with the slowness of their listener, or total confusion, or full-of-themselfness that she used like a new recruit uses a machete, without even looking for a path or attempting to walk without instantly ending the lives of 10 plants a gleeful swipe. When called out enough times her doubling down gets torn, she pretends it was a joke the whole time, a joke that you were a fool not to get, all while proceeding with her plan anyways. She lays out one path, making the other look forbidden, but taking it led to even more obsfu***ion.

But now Saturn knows her weakness, how to show her they will never be so much as implied to be odd or slow. She pretends to be blasé about safety, and sometimes even other people's feelings, but she did a terrible job at hiding the opposite was true, her near flawless observation of others allowing her to crack the ice of even strangers on the street after a mere cold read, building every flame until her target is looping themself into a frenzy of encouragement. This was not the feat of indifference.

But, being surrounded by anxious people who ring defcon 1 over being asked the harrowing ordeal of volleyball, she used this steely persona to wear down concerns such that only their very top priority ***s become a matter of discussion. She was terrified of being pulled down into the ocean of dread and unlivingness they created, these concerns were not distant to her, the same as Saturn, she was actually far more terrified than those that live in ***, she just ignores it, but there's the split, Saturn dialogues with these query's, every moment, and knows just the right triggers to overwhelm the steel to bring out the ocean below, hopefully find out what she was actually planning based on what she thinks Saturn thinks is happening.

"Im sorry, Did I say something that pressured you to-" honesty, guilt, obviously not out of catastrophizing but their genuine concern, spoken as pathetically as they can manage, as pathetic as they feel. Not incredulous, but actually believing the scenario that Fawny is trying to get an implied yes on, this time using her idea of ownership against her, if she owns both of their choices in this scenario, the consent will be rendered illigitamate on her, and thus: /their/ end, the "consent" having been theoretically pressured by misinterpreting Saturns words and thus dubious.

She would have to own that this wasn't the universe making this unpredictable (and thus unexplainable) circumstance happen, it wasn't Saturn asking for this to happen and thus supposed to be whatever they're imagining (that they're not even allowed to because she hasn't given a go ahead), whatever she was designing, was hers to own, hers to ask for.

"No, you /did/ something, I want you to come to the beach with me when you say you're going to" she hit back, Saturn decoded the blow "just let me have this, trust me like I trusted you to show up and was betrayed, 3 times"

"I'm sorry, I'm here! It usually doesn't happen so much with the same person, that's why I kept making plans with you, I know you didn't have much free time."

"I like practicing medicine, it's fun to me, I can take care of you, it's really no problem, calm down."

"Th-Thank y-you, I really dont think my gift is appropriate. You know all I have is medicare and you're a fancy doctor-"

"Shut up, you're a communist aren't you?"

"An anarchist, but yes. That still means I believe in reciprocity, but I can figure that out later if you want. Ahm, soo?"

"So step right up, do you want to do it or should I?"

They step onto the platform of the physician's scale "clink clink paDOW" rang the mechanisms, they wobble, bending even deeper into fighting stance, her dinnerplate hands eagerly come to stabilize, the added weight causing the the ground beneath them to quake again, but she's angled just so they stay effortlessly steady. It feels like a slab of steak has sneak-attacked them, this time it is fast enough to activate their hair trigger, their back twitches and she retreats, almost followed by their arms, but due to the overwhelming do-not-break-antique protocol, they were stopped in contemplation for the quarter second, calibrating how to defeat the unseen intrusion without hurting the scale, and in that quarter second their am-I-actually-in-danger checker brought back "'no"'

"It eh- messes with the vestibular system...

Can I move it back and forth?"

"Of course"

"Can this hot rod handle a little tempo?"

"It's a tank"

They reach out to the poise weight, it's always heavier than expected, they, exerting a not inconsiderable amount of their strength, lock their body to aid their arm in smoothly lifting it from the groove it was in to the next groove, the satisfaction is astonishing, they greedily use sideways motion this time to click clack slide it all the way right, 350, hovering right above the slot. They let go "padOW wnk wnk rrrrrrnnnng!" As 350 made its announcement to the device, the arrow slapped the top of the balence reader, which jostled the calibration beads from within their slots.

Then they teased the poise weight back to 125, following the slotted path near exactly, down the inverted mountain pausing to relish in the bliss of being right in place, and then following slightly above the upward slope before releasing onto the ruler-rail feeling the grainy metalic slide until the next 25 pound increment,

At 125 pounds, instead of following the downward slope, they hold it as if the ruler railing had continued on, then lift the poise as high as it will go, they release the weight onto the bottom of the slot, the arrow hits the bottom of the balance checker then the top, then "PaDOW!"

As this occurs, Fawny reaches behind them, measuring themself was offered but it was not accepted, and by now, Saturn imagined they'd gotten possessive over the task, but they were going to show in actions, not words, that that was not the stunt they were performing.

Before the reverberation can finish itself off, they stop, and quickly reach the top ruler for the Accessory Poise, they zip it, freegliding like an iceskater, avoiding the slots entirely, swishh from 0 to 26.

"CRRRRi!nK"
The balance arrow hit the top of the checker window again. They steadied themself, bending further into an almost absurd squat at this point.

And raise both hands, gingerly gripping accessory poise and main poise to return them to 0 pounds.

In the seconds of awe, Fawny retracts her hands.

They let out a breath they didn't know they were holding, Fawny exhales a much fuller breath. They step off the scale,

"What are you doing?-"
Her eyes cast a sharp stare, just caught in Saturn's periphery As they commence wiggling, inhaling smoothly and deeply.

"We'e're not done" her voice catches as she takes in the sight

They start breathing out, picturing butter sliding perfectly on a hot pan, instantly puddling as it greets the metal: smooth. They picture dropping a seed into the rich soil of the Amazon, and a gnarled, burly, gargantuan tree timelasping to eclipse the sun, trunk widening until it pressed them back: Strong.

They blink

They begin folding their fingers into a fist as they take the step back up to the platform.

"I have to reset myself more often. We'll be sitting soon, right?"

"Yes, you'll be okay, I- sorry"

"No it's okay, you didn't know"
They instantly regret the phrasology.

"I should have"
Guilt. Academic Guilt. Medical guilt.

"C'monnnn let's lerm my mass!"
They punctuate Lerm with a gentle shoulder push and finally some sparkly eye contact to show they're okay, people pleasers can't sulk in front of people, they catch her sullen gray face, like one of the orphans from Oliver Twist's workhouse. Then it morphs to a positively torturous portrait of want.

'"Let's ask if she's hungry soon, we can't both have low *** sugar"'

"Okay, let meE" she huffs as she shuffles forwards until the heat of their bodies creates its own kind of embrace against each other.

"Oh" '"no"'

They giggle from embarrassment, from too-muchness. This game seems to be the put-the-treat-on-the-dog's-face game. They're supposed to not even show that sort of interest.They're supposed to show obedience, a desire to do a trick, not a desire to get a treat.

"How does this work?"

She reached forward, leaning on Saturns back, wobbling the platform, they rotated and stretched their sharp shoulder blades backwards in warning. She finally relents with this endless wordless back-wards unseen invasion.

Saturn was used to initiating touch, was used to other's living in terror of their asexual feminist status and effortless ability to humiliate just through not hiding their natural reactions, giving them a wide berth.

But, outside of the few members of the queer community that had a good childhood, that berth was not actually out of respect, most Americans are unknowing puritans who have no natural concept of platonic human contact, look at crowds of ***s, or people from any other country but the us, interlocking, brushing, adjusting, congratulating, this was how Saturn learned to interact, touch a natural extension of words, of body language, they've had to change the way they communicate to not scare these undersocialized, scittish ***s that interpret every closeness as a threat or mating attempt.

whatever she was, she wasn't scittish. But being beautiful, being so inviting, she was jaded against people being,,, pushy. While she is touchy, approaches the world as pure as a mutt puppy, entering others' space without a care, she tends to scowl or whine at other's entrance into her bubble.

For all they desired their felt presence to embody, the comedy they hold so close in every other medium, Saturn's touch oscilates between sensual and scientific in quality. Slow, always seen, hovering above the body before touching it for a chance to move away, gentle, dripping in sappiness. Regularly bringing tears of realization.

But wherever Fawny grew up, her mentors in the tactical realm, her touch was truly as the gesture of a clown, no notions of sensuality, just natural, sudden, with an ownership that Saturn was taught was horrific to even consider. But the ownership, of their and near everyone who doesn't flinches bubble as her canvas, was what made her touch so silly, her tricks were sometimes quite unique, not something you would've asked permission for before, but asking about them as she comes up with the idea in the seconds after she sets you up for the touch to be punctuation to her engineered punchline, asking would ruin her joke.

There was, of course, a respectful way of doing this, Saturn did swing it sometimes, and so did Fawny, but she never hurts or offends others, and people generally give sweet beautiful perfect girls whatever they want instead of teaching them the correct way to engage in polite society.

"You are the weight, these poises are the counterweight, these were actually made with lead, so we had to replace it with these tungsten weights. They are a scaled down version of the weights listed on these rulers, this main poise is one pound,"

In rhythm with her s***ch, she brought the main poise back to 125 pounds

"And the accessory poise here is .10 pounds, not even the blacksmith we had could eyeball it, so we had to use trial and error.

Here, in the balance checker window is how we determine if these two weights: yours, and the poise's have been compensated for,-"

She skips begins to drag the accessory poise at a deliriously soft friction, padding the ruler with her thumb so the sound stayed in that low rumble, and so it wasn't actually measuring the poise's counterweight, she only let the poise hit the the bottom of the ruler during each click, racheting up the tension

" your pressure causes two levers to activate, one, the short lever, is tied on 4 sides of the platform as well as the iron rod in the middle, the short lever, which makes a V shape intersecting with the long lever's A Shape, covers everywhere you could feasibly be hiding your weight to help insure that no matter where you stand, your weight will disrupt the balance the same amount."

She continues past 145, click, 150, click, one fifty five. Click.

"Where the rulers and this beam are connected, there is an iron rod that is tied to the short and long lever, the levers measures your weight by pressing down onto a fulcrum that pulls the rod inside this middle part down so the ruler section tilts up,"

She releases the accessory poise just like Saturn did a minute ago, but just so much more artfully. The ensuing raucous was rapturous.

The fulcrum tilts down, the poises weighing in as more than Saturn.

She starts to bring the accessory weight back with that same scheming patience,

"the fulcrum, the point at which the lever pivots and actually does the balancing, is placed down here, under the platform, closer to your weight than the poise weights, so that you register as 1/15th your mass."

She eyes Saturn and lets it drop at 134.5, this is not how you're supposed to use this machine, but Saturn doesn't imagine that she stresses the suspension often. This is a special occasion.

"When the little arrow appears to be in the middle of the balance checker window, it's good to check, move it a little to the riiight,,"

This time she actually eased the machine through its paces, gently nudging the poise instead of either holding or smushing it, it let out a long-held-back metalic zing.

They waited for the window to stop wiggling, the air itself leaned forward in anticipation that 135 was too much.

"Do you want to get off after this?"
Saturn blinked, tilting their face in a jut, jiggling the platform.

Fawny offered her arm like a serviette

"I can wait 30 seconds"

The other way, 134 was too little. She really was the queen of everything

They grab her arm to get off the scale, at first with the desperation they typically reserve for stairwells and stage fright, crunching and bracing their fingers together like a cat trying to support their full body weight with just their claws, but upon feeling the soft welcoming support, they realize where they are and what they're doing, and try to melt the *** they just caused away with soft, strong adoring touch. Even during the initial ***, the arm does not move, even a milimeter, they slowly pour all their weight into it, to see if it wavers or even tenses. '"So, she tensed her arm at full power just to give me a little lift down? She's one of those "Punch me in the stomach feel how hard my abs are" girls, come to think of it, after she had worked herself into a raucous that Halloween, she pointed out loud whether she should call that challenge again, but you realized the copious amounts of titos and pizza feast had turn her stomach into a button, for which thargwas the only return. So instead she started catching, spinning and lifting the group as Saturn giggled at the show and tried to disguise their burning desire to be the one in her arms next so as not to bring down the utter lightness as she threw the scaredy cat of the group into the air as she screamed in shrill little-kid fascinated terror. Fawny obviously takes this much more seriously than the joke Saturn sees it as.

She now deeply drinks in the stretch Saturn does, having ocd, this causes them to think they've done it wrong and run through their paces again but their model instincts take over and Saturn can tell how artificial they look, can tell that it looks like they're preening but the *** that sparks from being observed so closely, her eyes doing the equivalent of running your tongue over a particularly bewildering piece of food to completely understand its texture, the *** causes and even deeper imbalance in their circulatory system, re-ruffling every feather they just set straight.

They now have to move slower, activating every muscle in their arm was determined intention, taking a while to find every hidden nook of static, but relief is subtle, they think that there will be no true relief as long as her intense eyes seem to take note of every flourish, They learned how to stretch from modeling, from watching videos of people trying to be beautiful. There is not one without the other. Her eyes grow more alive, burrowing and scurrying across them like orange vigor isopods, antennas flailing in careful consideration of each and every chemical compound they come into contact with. The relaxed muscles popping back into contraction as if her eyes are a psychic Beam, so they're ***d to flourish and show off even more, bending into the very deepest stretch until relaxation is ***d to permeate their limbs. She is amused.

"'SHE IS /AMUSED/???! I'M LOSING MY MIND, I'VE BEEN HONEST THE WHOLE TIME, SHE WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING, AND SHE HAS THE NERVE TO BE OPENLY AMUSED AT MY ***?"'
"'This is just the sort of person she is, you wouldn't want her to be any less whimsical, would you?"'
"'nooo'" they mentally whine

She steps closer, slowly this time, facing Saturn So they're more prepared for the movement and the confinement, and she unfolds the ruler, *swoop* 6 feet *swoop* 9 feet *swoop* 12 feet.

"I reckon you're going to need a few more attachments before you can apprehend my true stature"

"Im afraid we're just going to have to ballpark it after we reach the 12 foot mark. Those pesky engineering students have stolen all of our tape measures, how ever will we dose your prescription with enough potency?"

She always did /this/ too, either genuinely revealing parts of her plans or telling outright ridiculous lies (indistinguishable from each other) in the form of a joke instead of clear conversation. She was going to medicate Saturn?

They stepped on, this time looking towards Fawny instead of the ruler, they wanted to know what was coming. She leaned in, forehead almost touching Saturn's, they do not imagine that this is how she typically conducts this examination.
Her face the absolute picture of amusement park glee, '"''m e c h a n i s m s "''' they both thought simultaneously

She flipped out and shuttled the slide-measure down the height rod, almost teasing that she was going to hit the jutting out parts of their body with its pointy beak before slowing, allowing them to wiggle out of the way. She brought it all the way down 2ft 5 inches, into a crouch, something she hated doing, her body held no desire to hide or compress, and it always stuck at 35° into the crouch where she then fought herself down, grimacing and grunting like trying to ***-slam a screen-door. Saturn imagined massaging that strain out of her, even as she puts herself through *** to disrespect them. From the bottom of her descent she sheilds for her eyes with her fingers, The index finger against her brow as if she is looking out a far distance below her, shoulders hunched forward and down, The sweet expression she would have if she were talking to a small child, but she is staring up,
"Well, I'm afraid this doesn't cut it, I'll have to see if we have any 12-inch rulers around!"

Saturn glared down at her, bending to reach the measure-slide and eased it to the new location of the top of Fawny's head, which was still near waist high on Saturn, they still crouch, however unnecessary, pulling the same trick to make her feel small.


"I'm afraid those are tall words coming from such a little lass!" They spoke jovially and glared mercilessly. She grabbed the wrist holding the measure-slide and began to rise like Cthulhu from the depths, her body groaned and undulated like the sea her grip tightened, she pulled a bit backward and Saturn worried that they would both topple over, they imagined the bruises, they imagined the precious scale tipping over onto their bodies and disassembling itself both of them absolutely stewing in *** and guilt, then she pulled forwards, then, having passed the 35° meridian, she had to fight to slow her ascent, springing back, she really was a wind up toy. To displace the momentum, she gripped harder, intentional and certain.

Saturn decided not to resist, continuing to bring the measure-slide with them on their journey, her line at the end of this was sure to be entertaining, even if it means she'll win. Their arm started to complain at around eye level, she leaned in, looming, now the slowness was a dread. She pushed their hand deeper into the slide-measure, pushing it further into the rail where it slotted into the ruler, an impossibly smooth ascent, both of their muscles ***d to move in unison until their hand arrived at 5 inches above their head, *** struggling make the way to and from their heart, hand blanching right on the edge of their rebellion she asks:
"Am I?"
Even with the platform bringing Saturn closer to the ceiling, she blotted out the light, creating a very private darkness, With her closeness came heat and humidity, she was her own biome.

"'Why does she have to be tall? It's such a stereotype!"' forcing them into such a cartoonishly submissive position, they should know, because they were the one drawing the cartoons. Eyes tilted up, back off balance, stepping back to make the angle less dramatic, their instinct in conversation, even those of a platonic nature, is usually to naturally draw their adversary closer until they're a handswidth apart, to easier zoom in on microexpressions and catch any changes in the air.

But despite their significant stature, the closer their faces, the more dramatic the angle, Saturn did not know how to pretend it didn't affect them, how to act like they don't like it.

When Saturn stands their ground, it tends to be extremely (if accidentally) intimidating, mysteriously, the *** of god sinking into even the most trained and well acquainted martial artists in the most casual of settings the second that they are not water.

So, as it is difficult to converse with the petrified, during times of non-***, they tend to bend completely, stepping backwards without looking, mirroring the body language, lead: left forward, follow: right back, mirroring even the tilt of the head, weight off kilter and behind them, until their their thighs finally beg to stand up straight, and, as they cannot still for *** of terrifying, they push forward, and the sweetest, least intimidating way they know how was compiled from clips of burlesque, little magnetisms that draw your opponent further down, little curls of movement in times of trancelike focus until you can relax, being drawn level, Saturn's arms above their head in firework show, size is a mental construct, so they simply project height until everyone above 5' 8" is lounging and looking up at them, all this so Saturn no longer has need to strain their neck, this is why they really prefer the unambiguity of tall speaking partners of persuasions that could never interpret either of these comfort-seeking strategies with a hint of sensuality. Evidence was slowly gathering that Fawny was perhaps not in that number, so they were at a loss for how to contend with the girl who demands eye contact without at least asking her to take off her shoes.

They just knew their automatic reactions were giving the wrong impression, they liked it, but they didn't like it like /that/. While they found tallness to have its appeal, they genuinely found every height had something to offer, its own interesting quirks of body language and fits, it's never been a way they search for people, the only physical aspect they really looked for were interesting facial expressions, they hate to make anyone feel fetishized, or worse, think that something someone didn't work for has a hold over Saturn!

But the world rarely offers such conveniences, the world instead offers Saturn the world's tallest most height-cynical individuals, just daring them to make a big deal of it so they can feel used, reading in to every little, admittedly burlesque inspired movement, '"but hey! No one else was offering pointers that would let me lean on things while talking to you!"'

[scientistxSaturday]

Content warning:
Anxiety, health body horror, unreality, very hardcore kink (many will find this tame tbf), dubious consent, and other nonsense regarding bad consent practices that do not reflect how I actually play

Disclaimer: slow pacing, I recommend reading the previous 4 parts for this to make sense, this story includes lots of talking to oneself indicated by '" (vs speaking out loud which is just ") also this is the most self indulgent fic on this site lol enjoy :p

Also you're going to have to look up a diagram of a a physician's balance beam scale lol, if this was a printed book I would definitely just give you one but alas, stories on this site do not allow for images

If you're trying to signal that you are interested in play like this by liking this story, this site doesn't really actually let me know who liked it, just how many so ur gonna havta comment 

Also the names are just placeholders, if it's different next chapter, the characters are the same

If you have any suggestions for medical kink resources or entertaining medical educational books Id love recommendations!

If you wants to provide consultation it would be appreciated because in my opinion, the accuracy is what gives it its flavor lol