#Early childhood education strategies

[littleginnie1]

Boosting Pre-Primary Education Success with Parental Power

Are you a parent of kids who is worried about their pre-primary education practices? The early years are a critical window for a child's development, and the role of parents is paramount. The foundation of a child's educational success is laid long before they step into a formal classroom.

Pre-primary education plays a vital role in nurturing this growth, but it's important to remember that a child's first and most influential teacher is often their parent. Empowering parents for effective pre-primary education practices is not just beneficial; it is essential. It also helps in creating a good bond between the child and parents.

In the blog, you will learn more about empowering parents for effective pre-primary education practices in detail.

Why Empowering Parents Matters

Many parents may experience uncertainty regarding their child's pre-primary education. They may wonder how to best support their child's learning at home or how to bridge the gap between what happens in the classroom and their daily routines. Parents are concerned about their kid’s education at home. They think about how they can help educate their kids in the best way at home. Empowering parents for effective pre-primary education practices deals with these concerns by:

1. Building Confidence

When parents gain a comprehensive understanding of child development milestones and effective learning strategies, they become more confident in their capacity to support and foster their child's growth. This knowledge gives them the confidence to create enriching learning environments and engage in activities that promote their child's cognitive, emotional, and social development.

As a result, they can play a more active and informed role in their child's early education, positively impacting their overall development and readiness for future educational challenges.

2. Enhancing Collaboration

When parents feel empowered with the right knowledge and resources, they are better equipped to communicate and collaborate effectively with teachers. This empowerment enables them to actively participate in discussions about their child's progress, share insights about their child's needs, and support the educational strategies implemented by teachers.

3. Extending Learning Beyond the Classroom

Through an understanding of the curriculum and learning activities implemented at school, parents can effectively tailor their efforts at home to create engaging and complementary experiences that reinforce their child's educational journey.

4. Fostering a Love for Learning 

When parents show excitement and eagerness to learn new things, their positive energy and enthusiasm become infectious, inspiring those around them, including their children, to also assume a love for learning and exploration.

Strategies for Empowering Parents

1. Education and Awareness

Workshops and Seminars

Organizing workshops and seminars on child development and early education can provide parents with valuable insights. Topics such as the importance of play, language development, and positive discipline can be covered.

Online Resources

Creating a repository of online resources, including articles, videos, and interactive modules, can help parents access information at their convenience.

2. Practical Guidance

Activity Guides 

Providing parents with guides on age-appropriate activities can help them engage their children in meaningful ways. These guides can include simple games, reading lists, and craft ideas that promote learning.

Routine Building 

Assisting parents in establishing daily routines that incorporate learning activities can ensure consistency and structure, which are vital for young children.

3. Community Building

Parent Support Groups 

Facilitating parent support groups where experiences and ideas can be shared fosters a sense of community. These groups can meet in person or online, providing a platform for mutual support.

School-Parent Partnerships 

Strengthening the partnership between schools and parents can lead to more cohesive educational experiences. Schools can organize regular meetings and involve parents in the decision-making process regarding their child's education.

Addressing Common Challenges

Despite the best intentions, parents often face challenges in implementing effective pre-primary education practices. These challenges can include time constraints, lack of resources, and limited understanding of child development principles. 

Empowering parents for effective pre-primary education practices means acknowledging these challenges and providing practical solutions.

Time Management

Offering tips on time management can help parents balance their responsibilities while dedicating time to their child's education. This could include integrating learning activities into daily routines and setting realistic goals.

Access to Resources 

Collaborating with community organizations and libraries to provide parents with access to books, educational materials, and toys can bridge resource gaps. Additionally, creating online platforms where parents can share and exchange resources can be beneficial.

Continuous Learning

Encouraging parents to continuously educate themselves about child development through books, courses, and online content can keep them informed and motivated.

The Final Note 

Empowering parents with effective pre-primary education practices is an essential step in ensuring that children receive the best start in their educational journey. By providing parents with the knowledge, resources, and support they need, we can help them build the confidence required to foster their child's development at home. This empowerment not only enhances the learning experience for children but also strengthens the bond between parents and their children.

Through education and awareness, practical guidance, and community building, we can address the common challenges parents face and offer practical solutions. In the end, investing in empowering parents for effective pre-primary education practices is a crucial aspect of early childhood education. It lays a solid foundation for children's overall development and prepares them for the challenges ahead. As we continue to support and empower parents, we pave the way for a brighter and more successful future for our children.

[fushitoru]

an imperial command a knight!choso fic

pairing ⸺ knight/warrior!choso x princess!reader

summary ⸺ you, the princess of the nation, and choso, the son of your father's most trusted general, have been inseperable since birth. but after many deem it inappropriate for him to be so close to you, the distance between you and him only deepens after he leaves for war. when he comes back older and a more handsome, bigger version of the choso of your childhood, you both grapple with love, duty, and test the bounds of propierty.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, reader has a vagina, classism? not really, reader may seem pushy at times, not edited, very sweet love confession, happy ending, fingering, breast worship, virgin reader, mutual loss of virginity, mentions of sexism and archaic beliefs about virginity, pathetic choso, soft dom choso, p i v sex, gentle choso :(, me being really horny about his HAPPY TRAIL

a/n it's something about a hot decorated warrior that crumbles at the thought of you...

general masterlist

You and Choso had been inseparable since birth.

As the princess of the realm and the son of the general—your father’s most trusted advisor and sworn brother—it seemed ordained by fate itself that you should become steadfast companions. And companions you were; as babes, you darted through the royal gardens, frolicked in the halls of the palace, and devised schemes to escape the ever-watchful eyes of your tutors. Only the constraints of your education would separate you. You were confined to lessons in the classical tongues, the harp, and courtly diplomacy, while Choso immersed himself in the arts of the sword, the strategies of war, and the unyielding discipline of a soldier.

“Choso!” you squealed, your laughter ringing through the royal gardens as you fled from an imagined dragon. You ran toward him, your skirts billowing behind you, and found him poised and ready. His knees were bent, his gaze unwavering, and his small wooden sword clutched tightly in his hands. He glared past you at the phantom threat with the solemnity of a true knight.

“I will save you, Your Highness!” he roared and lunged, hacking away at the demon passionately. You cheered him on, giggling at his act.

“You’ve done it!” you cheered, clapping your hands in delight. But then your eyes widened in feigned terror. “Look, another one approaches!”

Choso spun around at your warning, his attention diverted just as you had planned. Seizing the moment, you imagined the dreadful beast closing in on his unguarded back.

“Watch out!” you exclaimed, grabbing a fallen branch to defend him. With a bold leap, you placed yourself between Choso and the imagined peril, brandishing your twig as though it were a knight’s blade.

“I’ve got you!” you declared, laughing as you swung your newfound weapon, the pair of you lost in the unrestrained joy of childhood.

Of course, while the king, your father, appreciated you so closely acquainted with his general’s son, your mother did not seem to think it wise that you become estranged from the daughters of nobles; after all, you would need to forge relationships early on to strengthen your future court. This led to many a playdates being interrupted.

“You didn’t need to save me!” Choso whined, pouting while crossing his arms. 

However, you held out a pudgy hand, patting his hair as if to soothe him. “It’s okay, Choso. If you ever need saving, I’ll always be there—” “YOUR HIGHNESS!” You heard footsteps running towards where the both of you were sitting idly. When parrying the imaginary monster’s attacks, you had tumbled on top of Choso, your dress and limbs entangled with his and both of your hair unruly. Hearing your governess’ voice led you to pout, for you were sure to earn a scolding for fooling around with Choso rather than practicing the violin for the nth time. Alas, you couldn’t escape her—as well as Choso’s nannies, who had appeared—and you both looked sheepishly at their horrified faces.  

Frowning, Choso’s nanny stomped towards the both of you, untangling you both impatiently and, once you were both standing, giving Choso a light smack on his head while bowing towards you. “Your Highness, I apologize, but the both of you mustn’t do such things anymore. You both are far past the age that this is appropriate.”

“What?” You pouted, disappointed in having to back to your room, confined to practice your violin with those dreadful, boring tunes. “What isn’t appropriate about this? We’re just playing—”

“Your Highness,” your governess began, her strained smile barely masking her displeasure. “It is not fitting for a princess to engage in such… undignified behavior. You must remember your station. A young lady of your rank is expected to conduct herself with grace and decorum at all times.”

Choso’s nanny, now tidying his tousled hair with brisk, efficient motions, added in a sharper tone, “And you, young master, should remember your place. You are not her equal but her servant’s son. Such familiarity is unbecoming.”

At her words, Choso’s face turned pale, his gaze dropping to the ground. His hands clenched into small fists at his sides, but he said nothing, his lips pressed tightly together. You could see the effort it took him to remain still, his shoulders stiff with tension.

“Choso?” you called softly, tilting your head to catch his eye. 

However, he did not look up, though his voice came, quiet and steady. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I… I won’t do it again.”

Your brows furrowed, your chest tightening at the sight of his downcast expression. “What are you apologizing for?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended. “You’ve done nothing wrong! We were only playing.”

“Your Highness!” your governess interjected, her tone scandalized. “Such defiance is unbecoming. You must understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” you snapped, cutting her off. “I understand that I don’t care for these rules. Choso is my friend, and I decide what is and isn’t proper!”

Choso’s nanny inhaled sharply, but he quickly stepped forward, shaking his head fervently. “Please, Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “Don’t… don’t say such things for me. I’ll… I’ll do as I’m told. I promise.”

“Choso!” you exclaim, betrayed as the sting of his words settling in your chest. His gaze still refused to meet yours, fixed instead on the ground between you.

Your governess, sensing her victory, straightened. “Your Highness, you must return to your chambers immediately. Your music tutor is waiting. And as for you, Master Choso, your training will resume at once. I trust there will be no further disruptions.”

Neither of you spoke as the governess and the nanny ushered you away in opposite directions, their sharp voices ringing in your ears. Yet, as you glanced over your shoulder, you caught one last fleeting glimpse of Choso, his hesitant gaze finally meeting yours for the briefest of moments. It held a quiet resolve that only deepened your frustration.

“Wait and see,” you muttered under your breath as you were dragged back toward your chambers. “I’ll change this someday.”

That was the last time he ever spoke your name aloud; now, you were only Your Highness and The Royal Princess. It irritated you to no end; you were his friend, not his superior. But he insisted, falling deeper and deeper into the depths of social proprietary and hierarchy his nannies and parents were no doubt pressuring him into. You could only take what you had; if he was refusing your affection, he would at least not refuse royal commands of rendezvous.

Years had gracefully unfolded since that day, and now, as teenagers, your clandestine meetings in the royal gardens had blossomed into cherished rituals beneath the cloak of night. The gardens, adorned with that glowed under the moon's gentle gaze, became the sanctuary where you and Choso could momentarily escape the rigid expectations of courtly life.

As you approached the secluded alcove near the ancient marble fountain, your heart fluttered with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement. 

And there he was.

Choso waited beneath the willow tree, his dark eyes darting between the swaying branches and the dimly lit path beyond. The shadows stretched long in the garden, and the faint sound of patrolling guards put a furrow in his brow. He shifted on his feet, arms crossed tightly as though bracing himself for some reprimand.

When you finally appeared, dressed in your lighter night robes, he let out a small breath of relief. “Your Highness, you shouldn’t—”

“Can you stop that?” You whine, brushing him off and making a move to sit in the swing right by the tree. You lightly swing your feet, establishing a gentle rhythm while you grin mischievously at him, meeting your lighthearted eyes with his furrowed, slightly worried ones. “Don’t be such a spoilsport, Choso. No one’s going to catch us.”

He can only shake his head, for after years of friendship had led him to know one universal truth: if there was one thing, it was that your mind, once resolute, could not be changed. “I don’t know how you keep wanting to risk them discovering this.” Then, he sighs, lamenting weakly, “and why I have to dragged into this.”

You flash him an innocent smile, about to give a cocky response about how you’re the princess and it’s not like Choso doesn’t want this…right? but both of you pause, deadly still, when you hear the undeniable clinks of armor.

Patrolling guards.

Choso’s head snapped toward the sound, his body going rigid. It kind of dazes you, in a way, how his curriculum as a warrior leads him to be so alert. It’s also this moment that you realize how grown you both are becoming; it feels as if you’re stuck as a dainty princess, while he’s steadily growing taller and bigger, a smaller picture of his formidable father.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.

You froze, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with him before instinctively ducking behind the grand marble fountain. The cold stone pressed against your back as the guards’ footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the bobbing light of their lanterns.

“Who’s there?” one of them called out, his voice sharp and commanding.

Choso shifted beside you, his breath quick and shallow. Your hand brushed against his arm in reassurance, but it did little to ease the tension radiating off him. The guards’ lanterns swept methodically across the gardens, their shadows flickering on the trees.

“Stay still,” Choso mouthed, his dark eyes fixed on the approaching light.

The guards drew closer, their boots crunching against the gravel path. You could feel your pulse hammering in your ears, each second dragging on unbearably.

Then, a faint rustle to your left—a squirrel darting across the underbrush. The guards turned toward the noise, their lanterns swinging wide.

“Must’ve been an animal,” one muttered, though he sounded unconvinced.

“Keep looking,” the other replied gruffly. “The king’s orders were clear—no one’s to linger in the gardens after dark.”

The pair continued past, their voices fading as they moved toward the far side of the grounds.

You let out a shaky breath, but before you could fully relax, Choso grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. “We need to go deeper,” he said urgently, his voice low.

Without waiting for your agreement, he led you away from the fountain, weaving through the hedges and into the denser parts of the forest. The shadows thickened as the soft glow of the garden lanterns disappeared behind you. Branches brushed against your arms, and the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves filled the air as you ran.

“Choso!” you whispered breathlessly, struggling to keep up with his longer strides. “They’re gone!”

“Not far enough,” he replied, glancing back at you. “We can’t risk them doubling back.”

The forest grew darker the deeper you went, the canopy above blocking out most of the moonlight. Finally, when the sound of your own breathing seemed louder than anything else, Choso slowed to a halt beneath a towering oak.

“We should be safe here,” he murmured, releasing your hand.

You both sank to the ground, the soft carpet of moss cushioning your fall. For a moment, neither of you spoke, too winded to do anything but sit there, catching your breath. Then, a stifled giggle bubbled out of you, unable to contain the absurdity of the chase.

Choso shot you a warning look, but his resolve cracked when you pressed your hands over your mouth, failing to muffle your laughter. A small laugh escaped him in turn, and soon you were both doubled over, trying in vain to quiet yourselves.

“Shhh!” Choso whispered, though he was grinning. “You’ll get us caught.”

“You’re the loud one,” you whispered back, nudging him playfully.

Soon, the laughter slowly subsided, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. Choso leaned back against the tree, his expression softening as he glanced up at the canopy. His eyes caught on something above, and he pointed. “Look—fruit.”

Following his gaze, you spotted the cluster of small, round pomengrenates hanging from a low branch. Choso stood, brushing dirt from his trousers, and reached up to pluck one. He examined it briefly before biting into it, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

“Are you just going to eat that without offering me one?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He smirked, holding another pomengrenate aloft. “You want it?”

“Obviously.”

But instead of handing it over, Choso lifted it above his head, his smirk widening. “Come and get it.” You stood up, moving closer to him to make a motion to grab the fruit. Alas, the effort was not fruitful. 

“Choso!” you hissed, glaring at him as he kept the fruit just out of reach. You try many things: you grab his shoulder, tickle him on his stomach, and arms. However, it all is in vain.

“You’re the one who wants it,” he said, his head peering down at you in amusement.

You stood, determination written all over your face. “Fine. If you think I can’t—”

You leapt, swatting at his hand, but he easily moved the fruit higher, his height giving him the upper hand.

“You’re insufferable!” you said, laughing despite yourself as you tried again, this time jumping with more force. Still, you missed.

“Perhaps you should’ve been born taller,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Or perhaps you should stop being such a—” Before you could finish, he lowered the fruit suddenly, pressing it into your hand.

“There,” he said, smirking. “Satisfied?”

You took a triumphant bite, your glare softening into a grin. “For now.”

Settling back down, you both shared the fruit in companionable silence, the earlier tension of the night dissipating in the quiet forest. Yet, as you sat side by side, something about the way his gaze lingered on you—or perhaps the warmth blooming in your chest—made you wonder if these late-night meetings were becoming something more.

And then, years later, he left for war. Choso left for the battlefield, summoned to serve alongside his father as the general’s son. 

The morning he departed was etched into your memory with painful clarity. The air was crisp, the kind that stung your lungs when you breathed too deeply, and the courtyard was alive with the sounds of preparation. Soldiers moved with purpose, their boots striking against the cobblestones in rhythmic determination. Horses snorted and pawed at the ground, their breaths rising like smoke in the cold air.

You stood at the edge of it all, your hands clasped tightly in front of you, trying to keep your expression composed. This was no place for a princess to display her feelings, no matter how tightly they knotted in her chest. Your father was nearby, speaking with the general in low, serious tones, his gaze sweeping over the troops with pride. Your mother was absent, as always, too preoccupied with courtly matters to concern herself with the departure of soldiers—even one who had once been your constant companion.

When Choso emerged from the crowd, his figure clad in the red, utilitarian uniform of a soldier, it was as though the rest of the scene blurred. The boy who had once darted through the gardens with you, his hair wild and his hands dirtied by mischief, now looked every inch the man his father had raised him to be. His hair was tied back, his face set in an unreadable mask of calm, and he carried himself with a solemnity that felt foreign.

He always did make you feel like a child. While you were still delaying acceptance of your fate as the princes—future queen—-he had grown into a man, fated to be a war general. 

He approached slowly, each step deliberate. When he stopped before you, he did not smile. Instead, he bowed low, his dark eyes briefly meeting yours. “Your Highness—”

But you had enough of that godforsaken title. “Why must you leave?” You cried, your voice breaking as Choso stood before you in the courtyard.

The image of the steeled soldier crumbled as his eyes softened in fondness and melancholy. “You know I must.”

You shook your head fervently, as if to vehemently deny what was undeniably the truth. “You know that’s not true.” And it wasn’t, for it would only take an imperial command of yours to bar him from ever entering the battlefield.

But it was his dream; you saw the way he looked at his father. To deny Choso the sword and the glory he was destined for was to chain him down, and you knew that. So instead, you shook off the idea, then blurted, “You’ll write to me, won’t you?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with expectation. He hesitated, a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossing his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “If time allows.”

That was all he offered. No promises. No reassurances. Just a vague, distant answer that left your heart sinking.

Outraged, and a bit petulant, you exclaimed. “What do you mean if time allows? Will you be so busy that you won’t have time? Are you not at least going to grant me some peace of mi—what is that?”

In the corner of your eye, you see something in his hand catch the sunlight, and glimmer. He hesitates, his hand clenching before inevitably opening his palm. A timid, “For you, Your Highness.”

An instinctual don’t call me that dies out in your throat as he shows you what he was hiding. In it he uncovers a small, delicate object—a pin shaped like a blooming flower, its petals carved with meticulous detail and painted in hues of white and gold.

You stared at it, your hands trembling as you took it from him. “What is this for?”

“It’s a symbol,” he explained, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Of where I’ll always be, even if I’m not here. Keep it with you, and you’ll know that... that I’ll do everything I can to return.”

“Oh, Choso.” Your bottom lip trembled as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your fingers closed around the pin, the intricate craftsmanship biting into your palm. Somehow, the weight of it felt heavier than it should’ve been. “I don’t want a pin, Choso,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I want you to stay.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might reach out to you. But then he stilled, the rigidity in his posture a clear reminder of the boundaries he refused to cross.

Even so, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful. The gift, despite your pain, was beautiful, and its meaning wasn’t lost on you. You sniffled, brushing a tear from your cheek with a trembling hand. “But it is beautiful, regardless,” you murmured, holding it up to the light. The golden edges of the petals gleamed softly, like sunlight captured in metal. “Put it in my hair?”

Choso blinked, caught off guard by the request. His gaze flickered between you and the pin, uncertainty etched into his features. “Your Highness, I—”

“Please,” you interrupted gently, tilting your head slightly toward him. “Just this once.”

He hesitated for a long moment, his fingers flexing at his sides as though he were battling some internal conflict. Finally, with a barely audible sigh, he reached out and took the pin from your hand.

You held your breath as he stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. His hand brushed against your hair and your neck as he carefully gathered a small section, his touch warm and deliberate. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips, earned from countless hours of swordsmanship, yet his movements were painstakingly gentle.

“There,” he said softly, stepping back to examine his work. His gaze lingered on you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his formal mask cracked ever so slightly. There was something in his eyes—something raw and unspoken—that made your chest tighten.

You reached up instinctively, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of the pin now nestled securely in your hair. “How does it look?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the lump in your throat made it difficult.

Choso’s lips parted, but no words came. He swallowed hard, his gaze darting away as if he couldn’t bear to look at you any longer. “It’s beautiful,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The horn sounded again, louder this time, breaking the fragile moment between you. Choso stepped back, the walls of propriety rising between you once more.

“Thank you,” you managed, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest.

He bowed deeply, avoiding your eyes. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with the faint scent of earth and steel, the pin in your hair a bittersweet reminder of the distance that now separated you.

For weeks after, you found yourself restless, wandering the garden paths where you had once talked and laughed together. You scribbled letter after letter, pouring out questions and updates, recounting bits of palace gossip and even sending sketches of the places you’d been. But no reply ever came.

At first, you tried to excuse it—surely, he was too busy, too occupied with the rigors of war to respond. Still, you kept writing, sending your letters to the front lines with the faint hope that one day, you’d receive one in return.

“Any news of the general’s son?” you would ask your father over dinner, feigning casual interest.

“He’s doing well,” your father would reply, distractedly cutting into his meal. “His tactics in the northern campaign have earned him commendation. A fine young soldier.”

You pressed further, ignoring the disapproving look your mother shot you. “And... is he safe?”

Your father raised a brow but indulged you. “Of course. The reports say he’s advancing quickly through the ranks. A promotion to captain is already under consideration.”

Your chest swelled with pride at the thought, but it was quickly eclipsed by frustration. If he was receiving such accolades, surely he could find the time to write a simple letter?

“Why do you trouble your father with such questions?” your mother chided later, her tone clipped. “The general’s son is serving the nation. You should focus on more important matters, like preparing for your duties.”

But your concern for Choso only grew. Whenever news from the front lines arrived, you would listen intently, hoping to hear his name mentioned. When you did, it brought a fleeting sense of relief, but it never lasted long.

The silence from him felt heavier with each passing month. You couldn’t understand it—how could someone who had once been your closest companion, who had sworn to always protect you, sever that bond so easily?

And yet, you never stopped writing. Each letter was folded with care, sealed with your personal wax stamp, and sent off with the same unwavering hope. Even if he didn’t reply, even if you didn’t understand why, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

The city was alive with celebration, a symphony of cheers, music, and the occasional crackle of fireworks that lit up the night sky. The soldiers had finally come home after a long winded war, and you just couldn’t miss out on the excitement. After Choso’s departure, you had grown. Before you were a gangly teenager, but now you were a young woman. With this came you forming your own opinion, independent of our parents, and had developed a habit of frequently sneaking out of the palace.

You couldn’t bear to stay confined to the palace, not when the air was thick with excitement and the news of the army’s triumphant return had set the entire city alight. The soldiers, clad in polished armor that gleamed even in the dim light, strode through the streets in small groups while the people cheered on the sidelines. They carried themselves with the confidence of men who had seen battle and emerged victorious.

Young ladies lingered at the edges of the crowd, their eyes alight with hope as they watched the soldiers pass. Some called out to them, their voices playful and lilting, while others merely smiled shyly, clutching kerchiefs or flowers they clearly longed to offer. The soldiers, for the most part, maintained a stoic demeanor, though a few exchanged grins or nodded in acknowledgment, their faces betraying a mix of pride and exhaustion.

Children darted between legs, waving tiny flags and shouting in delight, while their parents looked on with a mix of relief and gratitude. The scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine wafted through the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the soldiers’ armor. It was a night of unity, of celebration, where the lines between commoner and noble blurred in the shared joy of victory.

Draped in a simple cloak to conceal your identity, you slipped past the guards at the palace gates, your heart pounding with both exhilaration and trepidation. The anonymity of the cloak felt liberating as you merged with the crowd, the world suddenly vast and unguarded in a way it never was within the palace walls.

Laughter surrounded you, the contagious energy of the revelry lifting your spirits as you wandered farther from the familiar confines of royal life. You paused to admire a street performer juggling flaming torches, your cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. But before you could move on, a sudden gust snatched the handkerchief tucked into your cloak.

You gasped, your fingers grasping for it, but the delicate fabric was already airborne, dancing above the heads of the crowd. You watched helplessly as it soared higher, carried by the playful wind. Instinctively, you gave chase, weaving through the throng of revelers as your heart raced with the thrill of pursuit.

The handkerchief drifted out of sight, disappearing beyond the swell of people. Your steps faltered, and you stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowd in vain. It was only then that a firm hand shot up above the sea of heads, catching the fluttering fabric mid-air. The sight of your handkerchief, caught in a strong, gloved grip, sent a jolt through you.

Your gaze traveled upward, and there he stood—a figure that was at once familiar and startlingly different. His broad shoulders and proud stance were unmistakable even before he turned, his dark eyes locking with yours.

“Your Highness?” His voice was deep, steady, and entirely too familiar. Then, his eyes went to your hair—you, still wearing the hairpin he gave you that day—and they filled with a conflicted, longing sort of expression.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you froze. He looked so much…bigger. He always had muscles due to his frequent physical lessons, but he was so much taller now, his face a lot more sculpted. Before you could interpret what the lurching in your heart meant, he took a step towards you. But before he could take another step toward you, you turned and ran instinctively, the sound of his voice chasing you as surely as his footsteps.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! If Choso knew you had sneaked out, he would send you right back, citing useless things about duty and protecting you. While your traitorous heart started beating faster as soon as you saw him—different, but still undeniably Choso—you knew your liberty was at an end if he sent you home and informed your parents of what you did.

You bolted as fast as you could, your cloak billowing behind you as you darted into a narrow alley. Footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, heavy and deliberate, chasing you down. You reached the end of the alley and stopped, your chest heaving, unsure whether to keep running or face him.

“Your Highness,” the voice came again, closer this time.

You spun around, and there he was. Choso. But he wasn’t the boy you remembered—he was a man now. Broad shoulders filled out his uniform, the insignia of his rank glinting on his chest. His hair was tied back, revealing a face hardened by battle and time. Yet his eyes, dark and intense, still held the same quiet depth you’d known as children.

He dropped to one knee, his hand over his heart. “Your Highness.”

You gaped at his display. Since when did he start kneeling? “What are you doing?”

His voice came out, devoid of the warmth you had once known. “It’s protocol, Your Highness.” His head remained bowed, his knee pressed to the uneven cobblestones, the hand holding your handkerchief resting against his heart.

But you were in denial, scrambling to pull him up by his arms. It was futile; he was way stronger than you, and at your touch, he jumped back, as if stung. Wounded, you urged him. “Get up,” you stepped closer, “Choso, it’s me. You don’t need to—”

“I must, Your Highness.” His tone was calm but resolute, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Unless you are issuing an imperial command, I have no choice but to honor the rules set forth by your station.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “An imperial command?” The words tasted bitter on your tongue. You didn’t want commands; you wanted familiarity, the easy camaraderie you once shared.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He finally lifted his gaze to meet yours, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “If you do not wish me to kneel, then say it as such. Otherwise…” He lowered his head again. “This is my place.”

“Your place?” You felt a flicker of anger rise in your chest. “Choso, your place is by my side, as it always has been! Don’t—don’t treat me like some distant monarch.”

His shoulders tensed, and you thought you caught a flash of something—guilt, perhaps?—in the way his fingers tightened around the handkerchief. But still, he didn’t move.

Frustrated, you stepped even closer, your voice rising despite your efforts to remain calm. “Get up,” you said, reaching out and tugging at his arm. “I said, get up!”

“I cannot,” he said softly, the words cutting through your frustration like a blade. “Not unless you order it as my superior.”

You stared at him, a mix of hurt and disbelief swirling in your chest. “Fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “If that’s what it takes, then I command you—get up, Choso. I command you to stand!”

For a moment, the tension lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. Slowly, reluctantly, he rose to his feet, towering over you with a presence that felt both familiar and foreign.

But as you looked up at him, your frustration only grew. “This isn’t you,” you said, your voice softer now, tinged with sadness. “You’re treating me like I’m just your princess, like I’m someone you barely know. Do you even know how much it hurt when you never wrote back to me? I kept sending letter after letter, but it was like you didn’t care. Like you forgot about me.”

Choso’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “It wasn’t my place to respond, Your Highness.”

It was that damn phrase. “Your place?” you echoed, now even more bitterly. “You were my friend, Choso. My closest friend. Now you stand here, calling me Your Highness like I’m a stranger, like we never ran through the gardens or talked under the stars. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

For a moment, his expression softened, but it was fleeting. He straightened, his demeanor distant once more. “It’s dangerous for you to be here,” he said quietly. “I need to call for a carriage to take you back to the palace.”

Your heart sunk to your derriere. If Choso did indeed send you back, your parents would undeniably discover that you’ve been sneaking out. “No!” you snapped, stepping forward. “You can’t. If my parents find out I was here, they’ll—”

“They’ll ensure your safety,” he interrupted, his voice steady but firm. “And that’s what matters.”

You stared at him, now anger bubbling in your chest. “So you’ll just hand me over like I’m some burden to be dealt with? What about you?” Then, in a strong fit, you bursted out. “Are you going to stay here and fool around with girls while I’m locked away in the palace?”

His eyes widened briefly at your accusation, a flicker of surprise breaking through his stoic mask. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step back. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly.

“Fair?” you shot back, your voice trembling. “What’s fair about any of this, Choso? You’re not even trying to fight for us—for the friendship we used to have.”

He hesitated, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then make it simple!” you demanded, your heart aching with every word. “Stop pushing me away. Stop acting like I don’t matter to you anymore.”

For a moment, you thought he might say something—something real, something that would bridge the growing chasm between you. But instead, he turned away, his voice steady and distant as he said, “Wait here. I’ll call for the carriage.”

You watched him walk away, the ache in your chest spreading until it felt like it would consume you entirely. The handkerchief in your hand trembled as you clenched your fingers around it, your anger and sadness swirling into a storm of emotion.

And yet, even as he disappeared into the bustling streets, a part of you refused to believe this was the end. You couldn’t let it be.

Ever since his return to the palace, Choso has been ignoring you.

It’s not that you were spending every hour and every minute with him before, when he was just your childhood friend. However, you would meet everyday, whether it to be sneak off into the gardens at night, or meet for lunch or dinner. Even a request of yours could’ve secured a visit to town, the both of you going to town to eat pastries and street food while accompanied by a chaperone. Of course, that was due to your incessant pleas to your disapproving mother, but you could score an occasional playdate outside the palace every month or so.

But it feels…different. And he feels different.

You oft find yourself daydreaming about him, older and a decorated soldier. And before you can catch yourself, you find your cheeks heated and your heart set aflutter. It’s a bit mind-boggling, really. Ever since Choso left, none of the future dukes and lords had ever caught your attention, even at balls. Their gentle, weak disposition didn’t compare to your Choso, you always thought. Back then, you had always thought of it as pride for your best friend, but now…..

Musing aside, you’re tired of this distance Choso has created between you. So you choose to seek him out.

The castle courtyard was alive with the sharp clang of swords and the rhythmic stomp of boots on hard-packed dirt. You leaned over the balustrade of the upper terrace, concealed behind a stone pillar, watching the soldiers below. It wasn’t the sparring or the strategy that captivated you—it was Choso.

The sun bore down on him as he moved with precision and power, his blade a silver blur as he sparred with one of the veteran knights. His whole torso is bare; damp with sweat, the sun shines against the cords and cords of muscle that then lead to a string of hair that trails into his trousers. The muscles in his arms ripple with every swing and parry. You bite your lip, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks that you stubbornly attributed to the summer heat.

He had changed so much. Gone was the boy who had laughed with you under the willow tree and run with you through the gardens. In his place was a man who carried the weight of war on his broad shoulders, his every movement deliberate, his expression unreadable. And yet, despite the distance he put between you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

When the sparring session ended, Choso handed his sword to a squire and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. You straightened as he turned, half-expecting him to glance up and spot you. But he didn’t. Instead, he spoke briefly to the knight, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. You couldn’t keep hiding and watching from afar. You had to speak to him, to demand answers for why he had been avoiding you since the day in the alley.

Quickly, you made your way down to the courtyard, your pulse racing as you rehearsed what you would say. But when you reached the training grounds, Choso was already heading toward the barracks.

“Choso!” you called out, your voice echoing across the courtyard.

He froze mid-step, his shoulders tensing before he turned slowly to face you. His expression was neutral, guarded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something he quickly masked.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head. “What brings you here?”

You frowned, frustrated by the formality in his tone. “I wanted to speak with you,” you said, stepping closer. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

He shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve been busy with training and my duties.”

“That’s a lie,” you said, crossing your arms. “You always find a reason to leave whenever I try to approach you. You didn’t even look at me after the alley—”

“Your Highness,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not proper for you to be seen in the training grounds.”

“Proper?” you repeated, anger flaring in your chest. “Since when do you care about what’s proper? You didn’t care when we were sneaking out or when we were running through the gardens—”

“That was different,” he said, his tone softer now. “We were children. Things aren’t the same anymore.”

“Why not?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the soldiers milling about in the distance. “I’m not pushing you away,” he said finally. “I’m doing what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “How can ignoring me and avoiding me be what’s best for me?”

Choso didn’t answer. Instead, he bowed his head again, his hands clenched at his sides. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I need to return to my duties.”

And before you could stop him, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the courtyard, your heart aching with every step he took.

You paced the length of your chambers, clutching the skirts of your dress. It’s been two times that Choso dismissed since his arrival. Did he abhor you so?

It was as if an invisible wall had been erected between you, the builder of it Choso for some mysterious reason. Proprietary aside, it would be okay for the occasional chat, would it not? After all, he was still a noble in his own regard, and a conversation or two wouldn’t be frowned upon. So why was he ignoring you entirely?

You couldn’t take it anymore. If he wouldn’t come to you, then you would ensure he had no choice but to stay by your side. If he truly detests it, you will let him go, no matter how painful it would be and how ardently you would mourn your friendship. But you needed to know.

Resolved, you marched to your parents’ audience chamber, where they were seated in quiet discussion. Your father looked up first, his brows furrowing slightly at your abrupt entrance. “What is it, my dear? You seem troubled.”

Your mother glanced at you as well, seated right next to the king, her sharp gaze assessing. “Has something happened?”

You straightened your shoulders, facing them both, willing your voice to remain steady. “Father, Mother, I have a request.”

Your father tilted his head, curious. “Go on.”

You hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “I would like Choso to be assigned as my personal guard.”

The queen blinked, her lips pressing into a thin line, and questioned, “Choso?”

“Yes,” you said quickly to prevent your mother from getting a word in. “He’s proven himself in battle, hasn’t he? He’s been promoted several times for his skill and loyalty. Who better to protect me?”

Your father leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “It’s true he’s risen quickly through the ranks. He’s a fine soldier.”

“And he’s someone I trust,” you added, stepping closer. “He’s been by my side since we were children. I feel safer with him than with anyone else. With me growing into adulthood, there would be no one better to be by my side.”

Your mother’s gaze sharpened. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with his recent return to the palace, would it?”

You met her eyes, refusing to back down. “It has everything to do with the fact that I need someone I can rely on. Someone who knows me.”

Your father exchanged a look with your mother, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. I will speak to the general about the arrangement.” Then, a little wryly, he adds, “Although, I did hear that it was him that reported you when you were sneaking out in public. Perhaps it would be a fine match.” At that, your mother visibly bristled at the memory of hearing that you were out, unguarded.

At the king’s words, relief washed over you, but it was quickly tempered by your mother’s stern voice. “This is highly unusual, you know. A princess requesting a specific guard. People will talk.”

Inwardly, you rolled your eyes, but showing sass to your mother would mean that she would argue further.  Instead, you went and showed her your pride. “Let them,” you said, lifting your chin. “I don’t care what they say.”

Your father chuckled softly, knowing you would say something of the sort. “Spoken like a true princess.”

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head. “Both of you, Father and Mother.”

As you left the chamber, your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was your chance—your chance to bring Choso back into your life. Whatever walls he had built between you, you were determined to tear them down.

The water was warm, steam curling gently around you as you leaned back in the large marble tub. The golden light of the setting sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting vibrant patterns across the tiled floor. It was one of the few moments you had to yourself, free from the watchful eyes of attendants and the endless constraints of royal duty. You closed your eyes, sinking deeper into the water, allowing yourself to relax—until the door to your bathing chamber slammed open.

“Your Highness, why did you—” At first, Choso raised his voice slightly, storming in. Then, he stopped right in his tracks as he noticed you, and your face, your neck and then the rest of your body engorged in soapy, steamy water. Blushing furiously, he turned, scrambling for the door. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to—”

He was rigid as he stormed toward the exit, and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the sight. “Choso, wait,” you called, your voice laced with amusement. He stopped abruptly, halting awkwardly in his tracks. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm for your new title,” you teased, “I’d prefer if you didn’t barge into the bathing chamber. Let us count ourselves lucky that you had not seen… more.”

It was nearly impossible not to laugh now. Even the back of his neck was flushed a deep crimson, and it struck you as absurdly endearing. The aloof and stoic soldier who had spent weeks ignoring you had crumbled into a shy boy at the mere sight of you in a tub. You supposed it made sense—he’d likely not had much interaction with women, what with his rigid dedication to the army. Still, his reaction felt... exaggerated.

Choso let out a shaky exhale, his voice strained when he finally spoke. “I apologize,” he said, his tone clipped as though to mask his discomfort. “But I must ask—why did you instate me as your guard?”

The answer was simple, and you played absentmindedly with a soap bubble as you replied, “Because there is no one I trust more than you.”

For a moment, the room was silent save for the faint dripping of water. Then, Choso spoke, his voice low and almost pained. “Why must you do this to me? Why must you torment me so?”

What?

His words pierced through the lighthearted atmosphere, leaving you stunned. A pang of hurt welled in your chest at the sharpness of his tone. “Does it torment you to be in my company?” you asked, laughing scornfully to hide the sting.

When he didn’t answer, the silence was louder than any words could have been.

“If it torments you,” you continued bitterly, “then so be it. You have already had my one liberty stripped away. Mother and Father have doubled the surveillance on me, all thanks to you.” The memory of your recent restrictions only added fuel to the fire of your frustration. “Is this not fair? An eye for an eye, then. Perhaps your torment will teach you to stop pretending you know what’s best for me.”

Still brimming with anger, you lifted your chin and gestured to the door. “You may leave now.”

For a moment, he stood there, the weight of his presence filling the room. Then, with a stiff nod, he turned to the door. “Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice cold and formal.

And then, he was gone.

You really do abhor dinner parties.

There’s much wrong with them, and if you had to, you could do a systematic rundown of every single grievance. The first and foremost was the absurd inability to properly enjoy the food. The chefs’ hard work deserved to be indulged in, not nibbled delicately with those ridiculous little spoons. And then there was the matter of breathing, which you could barely manage with your waist cinched so tightly and your bodice forcing your chest up like some cruel display. Sitting down practically demanded you forgo the simple luxury of air.

But the worst part? Having to entertain men.

“And I have acquired double the profits of Lord Gojo,” Lord Naoya declared, puffing his chest like a rooster preening in the henhouse. His voice boomed with self-importance, his words spilling out in a showy, rehearsed cadence.

You couldn’t help yourself—you smiled. And while it appeared to him as admiration, it was born of pure amusement. The man clearly thought you were too dim to know better, but you were well-versed in state finances. Lord Naoya’s exaggerated claims were as transparent as glass.

On your right, Choso sat silently, his role as your personal guard justifying his unusually close position. He had been quiet all evening, his eyes scanning the room more than his plate.

“And surely, a woman as lovely as yourself would agree that business acumen is the truest mark of a man’s value,” Naoya continued, leaning closer to you with a smirk you found utterly punchable.

You giggled, not at his words, but at the sheer absurdity of them. You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, but your amusement couldn’t be fully hidden.

When you finally turned to glance at Choso, however, your mirth faltered. He wasn’t looking at Naoya anymore—his dark eyes were locked on you, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

He looked very upset.

You blinked, confused, before glancing back at Naoya, who was still prattling on, utterly oblivious. Was Choso… angry at you?

It didn’t make sense. After you had initiated him as your guard, he’d been resigned after that confrontation in your bathing chambers. Ever since, you’d seen him stoic, protective, and even exasperated, but this—this was different. The weight of his gaze lingered on you like a reprimand, and it unsettled you in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

“Your Highness, I trust you’d agree,” Naoya pressed, oblivious to the charged air.

“Agree?” you echoed, snapping back to attention. You hadn’t been listening, too distracted by Choso’s silent brooding. “Oh, of course,” you said vaguely, waving your hand with a polite smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Naoya looked pleased with himself, but you barely noticed. Your focus shifted back to Choso, who had turned his head forward, his jaw tight. You leaned closer to him, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Is something the matter?”

He didn’t look at you, his tone curt. “Nothing, Your Highness.”

Your stomach twisted at the formality. The night had already been exhausting enough, and now Choso was acting like you’d personally offended him.

“Choso,” you pressed, your voice softer now, “if I’ve done something to upset you—”

“It’s not my place to say,” he interrupted, finally looking at you. His gaze was sharp, cutting through your defenses. “But if I may offer counsel, I’d suggest not wasting your smiles on men like him.”

You blinked, taken aback. His words weren’t loud, but they struck with the force of a hammer.

“What does that mean?” you whispered, your amusement long gone, replaced by confusion—and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“It means,” Choso said, his voice low, “that he’s not worth it.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with implication.

Before you could respond, the clinking of glasses drew everyone’s attention, and you were forced to look away as a toast was made. But even as the room filled with polite applause and laughter, your thoughts were consumed by Choso’s quiet but pointed remarks.

When you glanced back at him, his focus was elsewhere, his expression carefully neutral. Yet something about the tension in his shoulders told you that the conversation wasn’t over—not really.

And for the rest of the evening, Naoya’s words became nothing more than background noise, drowned out by the quiet storm brewing in Choso’s eyes.

The air in your chambers was warm, the faint crackle of the fireplace soothing you as your maid finished tugging the laces of your nightgown into place. The fabric was delicate, thin enough to feel the cool evening breeze against your skin despite the room's warmth. With a bow, the maid excused herself, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Ever since that dinner party with Naoya, Choso had been more distant than ever. Before, it had seemed that he had warmed up to the task of being your guard; whenever you walked through the garden, you eventually warmed him enough that the both of you could converse during the stroll. Of course, it hadn’t returned to what it was like before, but it was still progress. However, now it seemed that all he had to offer was curt responses and avoidant stares. 

The change grated on you, more than you cared to admit. You weren’t naïve; you knew something had shifted that night. The way he had looked at you, the way his words had cut—it all lingered, a splinter in your chest that you couldn’t pull free.

Still, tonight was meant to be routine, a brief reprieve from the emotional turmoil. You always ended your evenings with a massage, a small luxury that helped soothe the tension from the day. Summoning Choso to your chambers, you intended for him to call for the maid who usually performed the task.

When he arrived, his expression was as stony as ever. “You called for me, Your Highness?”

“Yes, Choso,” you said, smoothing your hands over the hem of your nightgown. You lazed back on your chaise lounge, head against pillow as you looked at him. “I need the maid for my massage. Could you fetch her?”

He hesitated. “The maids have retired for the night. Shall I summon someone from the servants’ quarters?”

You frowned. The thought of disturbing anyone at this hour felt excessive. Then, your gaze drifted to Choso, his broad shoulders rigid, his hands clasped behind his back in his usual formal stance. An idea struck you, and you spoke before fully thinking it through.

“Then you’ll do it.”

His dark eyes snapped to yours, wide with disbelief. “Your Highness, I—”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence but unable to fully hide the mischief in your smile. “Oh, come now, Choso. You’re stronger than any maid. Surely, your hands would be better suited for the task.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you as though you’d just declared the sky was green. His lips parted, but no words came out, his gaze darting nervously around the room before settling back on you. “I don’t think that’s… appropriate,” he said carefully, his voice low and strained.

You leaned back slightly, arching a brow. “And why not? It’s just a massage. Surely, as my personal guard, it’s your duty to ensure my comfort, no?”

“Your Highness—”

“Choso,” you interrupted, your tone softening as you leaned forward slightly, letting your hair cascade over one shoulder. “You’ve sworn an oath to protect me. Are you really going to deny me such a simple request? Besides,” you added with a teasing smile, “I trust you. Who better to take care of me?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his shoulders visibly tensing. It was rare to see him so uncharacteristically flustered, and you found it almost endearing. Still, you could see the war waging behind his eyes—the struggle between his rigid sense of propriety and his inability to deny you.

“Choso,” you said again, gentler this time, “it’s just us here. No one else needs to know. Please?”

The word seemed to undo him. After a long, weighted pause, he exhaled sharply, his hands clenching at his sides before he gave a stiff nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

You smiled in satisfaction and shifted, lying down on the chaise lounge with your head resting on your folded arms. The thin fabric of your nightgown clung to your back and shoulders, leaving little to the imagination, but you paid it no mind. Choso, however, hesitated, his gaze flickering over you before he finally moved to kneel beside you, his movements almost painfully hesitant.

You settled onto the chaise lounge, lying on your stomach and pulling your hair over one shoulder to expose the curve of your neck. The thin fabric of your nightgown clung to your body, leaving little to the imagination, but you paid no mind to it. Choso, however, lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his dark eyes flickering over the exposed skin before quickly darting away.

The tension in the room was palpable, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his hesitation. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until finally, he knelt beside you, his movements stiff and deliberate. His hands hovered just above your shoulders for a moment, as if he were debating whether to go through with it, before he finally made contact.

The first press of his palms was firm, his calloused hands warm against your skin. He worked in silence, but his touch was tentative, almost reluctant, as though every movement was a battle against himself. His fingers found the knots in your shoulders, but his grip tightened slightly as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“You’re good at this,” you murmured, your voice languid. “I should’ve asked you sooner.”

Choso didn’t respond, but his hands stilled for the briefest moment, his jaw tightening. He resumed a beat later, his touch growing more confident as his fingers moved lower, kneading along the length of your spine. Yet, there was something almost possessive in the way he worked, his hands lingering at the curve of your back, brushing the edges of your nightgown with an intimacy that felt deliberate, even if unspoken.

Heat pooled in your belly, but the mood shifted when Choso spoke, his voice low and edged with something that made your breath catch.

“Do you let all your guards do this to you?”

Your eyes snapped open, the sharpness of his tone cutting through the haze. You turned your head to look at him, frowning. “What?”

He straightened, pulling his hands away, anger visible on his face. “Do you let all your guards touch you like this, or am I just the special fool?”

The accusation in his voice stung. You sat up on the chaise lounge, clutching the fabric of your nightgown to your chest. “What are you implying?”

“I’m implying,” he said, his eyes dark and filled with something unnameable, “that you smiled at Naoya like he was the only man in the room. That you entertained his nonsense—his lies—like you actually enjoyed it.”

A sharp laugh escaped you, incredulous and hurt. “You think I was flirting with Naoya? That I would ever entertain a fool like him?”

“You did tonight,” Choso shot back, his jaw clenched tightly. “You smiled and laughed at him, as if he deserved it. As if you weren’t above him. The you I knew wouldn’t have entertained someone like Naoya for a second. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

That cut deeper than it should have. Your breath hitched, and frustration welled in your chest, bursting free before you could stop it.

“You don’t know me anymore?” you echoed, your voice trembling with emotion. “Well, Choso, I don’t know you either! You’re the one who left me without a word. You’re the one who never answered my letters, who pushed me away for no reason. You didn’t answer them for years, Choso. For years! How can you stand there and talk about me changing when you’ve done everything you could to shut me out?”

He flinched, as if your words struck a nerve. His gaze fell to the floor, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I didn’t answer because I thought it was better that way,” he said quietly. “Because I knew… whatever this was—whatever we were—it couldn’t last. I didn’t want to make it harder for you.”

Your heart cracked at his words, tears threatening to spill over. “You didn’t want to make it harder for me?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You made it unbearable, Choso! You didn’t just leave me, you abandoned me. Without explanation, without closure. You were my friend, my closest ally, and you just… disappeared!”

“I was avoiding the inevitable,” he said, his tone low and bitter. “I was saving us both from something that could never be.”

“And why not?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Why couldn’t we have stayed friends? Why couldn’t you have stayed as someone I trusted, someone I could rely on?”

Choso let out a harsh, incredulous laugh, his head bowing as his hands rose to rub at his temples. When he looked back at you, his eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You think I just want to be your ally?” Choso’s voice cracked, his tone harsh and trembling, a storm barely contained within him. He stepped closer, his shadow stretching toward you in the dim light. His dark eyes blazed, raw and unguarded, piercing straight through you.

“Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life standing at your side, pretending it doesn’t destroy me every time you smile at another man?” he continued, his voice rising with emotion. “Do you think I want to be some nameless figure in your life, someone who exists only to bow, to nod, to follow orders while the rest of the world gets to bask in your warmth?”

Your breath hitched as he took another step, the space between you shrinking.

“I don’t want to be your ally, your friend, or some loyal servant,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I want you. I have always wanted you.”

His confession struck you like lightning, setting every nerve ablaze. You could see the anguish etched into his features, the way his hands shook as if he was struggling to hold himself back.

“I want to touch you without wondering if it’s inappropriate,” he went on, his words tumbling out, unrestrained. “I want to kiss you without the weight of the crown between us. I want to wake up beside you every morning, knowing you’re mine—truly mine—and not just some unattainable dream I’ve been foolish enough to carry.”

“Choso…” you whispered, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

“I want to tear apart every damned rule, every line drawn between us,” he continued, his voice thick with frustration and desire. “I want the world to see that you’re mine—not Naoya’s, not some prince’s, not anyone else’s. Mine.”

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair, his composure unraveling further. “But that’s not what the world allows, is it?” he said, his tone laced with venom. “Because I’m not a prince or a duke or anyone worthy of you. I’m just a man—a soldier. And the world says I can’t have you.”

His chest heaved with the force of his confession, and his eyes—God, his eyes—burned with a pain so deep it was almost unbearable to witness.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as his words sank in. “You could have had me,” you said, your voice trembling, tears stinging your eyes. “If you’d just stayed, if you’d let me in instead of shutting me out. We could have figured this out together, Choso. I would have fought for you.”

His expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his anger. “And what would you have me do?” he asked hoarsely. “Stand beside you while everyone whispers that I’m unworthy? Watch as suitors line up for your hand, knowing I can’t stop them because it’s my duty to protect you, not love you?”

“I don’t care what the world says!” you burst out, stepping closer, your voice rising with desperation. “I don’t care about duty or station or rules. All I ever wanted was you, Choso. You, as my friend, my ally, my—”

“Your what?” he interrupted, his voice low and rough. “Say it. Say what I’ve been longing to hear and dreading all at once.”

Your breath hitched, tears streaming down your face as you met his gaze. “My everything,” you whispered.

For a moment, the tension between you hung thick and electric, the weight of years of unspoken words pressing down on you both. Then Choso stepped back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight.

“That’s why I stayed away,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “Because I knew if I didn’t, I’d lose myself in you completely. And I wouldn’t be able to let you go. This is why I must stay away.” 

For a moment, he lingered there, his hand flexing at his side as if fighting some invisible force. His gaze dropped, and when he finally turned away, it was slow, deliberate, each step a struggle. He didn’t look back as he crossed the threshold, the heavy sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the silence.

The silence in your room was suffocating. Curtains drawn tightly, the dim flicker of a single candle cast wavering shadows on the stone walls. Plates of untouched food sat on a tray near the door, abandoned by the maids you had dismissed hours ago. The only sound was the faint rustle of your gown as you shifted on the edge of your bed, your arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold your broken pieces together.

A soft knock broke the stillness, tentative and almost hesitant. You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to see anyone, let alone speak. Whoever it was would surely leave if you didn’t respond.

But the door creaked open.

Your heart twisted. “I told you all to leave me be,” you said hoarsely, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I’m not one of your maids,” came a quiet reply from a voice that was all-too-familiar.

Your head snapped up, breath catching in your throat as Choso stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. His dark eyes, always so steady and unreadable, now held an uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“Get out,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended, though the hurt behind it was impossible to mask. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“I know,” he murmured, taking a hesitant step forward. He held something in his hands—a small stack of parchment, edges worn and yellowed. “But I have something to say to you.”

You frowned, your gaze darting to the papers he carried. “What is that?”

“Letters,” Choso said, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard before continuing, “The ones I wrote to you but never sent.”

You stiffened, your heart lurching painfully in your chest. “Why are you showing me this now?”

“Because I should have given them to you a long time ago,” he said simply. “And because I need you to know… what I couldn’t say before. But what I feel I must say now, for I am done with pretending I am not a selfish, selfish man.”

He stepped closer, setting the letters on the bed beside you. For a moment, he hesitated, then knelt before you, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked up at you with a mixture of guilt and determination, as if he had made a decision. And you fight desperately to not yourself believe that, perhaps, he has changed his mind, that he will finally take you in the way you desire.

But you steel your heart as you cautiously look at him. 

“Read them,” he said quietly. “Please.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the stack, the paper cool and rough beneath your touch. The first letter was dated years ago, the ink slightly smudged, as if his hand had lingered too long on the words.

My dearest friend,

I’ve written and torn up this letter a dozen times. How do I explain the ache I feel every night I march under foreign stars? How do I explain that even on the battlefield, amidst the chaos, my mind drifts to you? I think of our secret meetings in the garden, the way you’d laugh as you dared me to meet you in the willow tree every night. Do you remember that night we barely escaped the guards? Your laughter, your gown splayed across the forest floor. I dream of those nights—of you leaning close to steal the fruit in my palm, staring up at me, the world disappearing, and wishing I could ask for more. For you close to me not under the pretense of stealing the pomegranate in my hand, but for something more.

Your voice broke as you read, tears pooling in your eyes. Choso remained silent, his head bowed, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You moved to the next letter.

The scent of jasmine haunted me on the journey here. Every step of the way, I remembered you crouched beneath the trellis, daring me to pluck the flowers despite the gardener’s wrath. When I handed you the bouquet, your smile made me feel invincible, as though I could conquer kingdoms just to see it again. I wished then that I could have told you the truth—that every reckless moment we shared was a reprieve from the weight of duty. I wanted to kiss you in the moonlight, to tell you that you were more than a dream to me. I tried to, in part, with the hairpin I gave you, one that amplified your gentle beauty even more than I thought possible. But how could I ruin what little time we had?

“Choso,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why didn’t you send these?”

“I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought it was kinder to stay away. To bury how I felt. But it wasn’t kinder, was it?”

You shook your head, unable to speak as you continued reading, each letter peeling away the walls you’d built to protect yourself from the pain of his absence.

When you reached the last letter, your breath hitched.

If I were braver, I’d tell you this to your face: I love you. I’ve loved you since the first time we ran barefoot through the gardens, laughing until we couldn’t breathe. I’ve loved you since you bandaged my hand after my sparring lessons, scolding me and treating me gently as if I weren’t a warrior, as if my rough, damaged hands were worth your care. I love you with a desperation that terrifies me, that kept me awake in camp as I replayed your smile over and over. If I lose you now, it will be my own doing. But still, I love you.

Your tears fell freely now, soaking the parchment. Choso rose slowly, his hands lifting as if to touch you but stopping just shy of your skin.

“Say something,” he pleaded, his voice raw.

Instead, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to meet you. Your lips found his in a kiss that was fierce and unrestrained, pouring every ounce of longing, anger, and love into the connection.

Choso froze for a heartbeat before melting into you. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

His hands moved to grasp your waist, as if afraid you might vanish. Before they could touch you, he paused as if doubting his ability to be able to touch you. To your frustration, the heat of his almost-contact pulled away. “Your Highness—”

“Choso,” you pleaded, grasping his hands in yours and placing them on their rightful place: your body. You dragged his hands down your torso, helping him explore your curves sensually, intimately as he squeezed his brows together, eyes shut, conveying his inner turmoil. His resolve almost cracked as you begged him, “Take me. Please.”

With agitation, he withdrew his hands from your grasp, painfully clenching them by his sides as he groaned. “Your Highness, you’re playing with fire. I mustn’t. Your body is of a thousand gold, and I would never dare to touch you with my hands—”

But you interrupted him by snorting. “If it is of a thousand gold, or whatever archaic term the royal legends have invented, then you are a thousand gold richer.” You gently took his face in your arms, kissing his forehead. “I am yours, and if you believe that anyone will have my heart after you, then you are most grievously mistaken.” 

He still looked at you, both kneeling on your bed, with a conflicted expression. You gave him a reassuring look before pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. Then, you teased him softly. “Will you not fight for my hand? Will you truly let me be promised to another man after this?”

His eyes darkened in a possessive manner, as he joined his lips against yourself furiously. “I would never,” he punctuated his interruptions with a searing kiss. “let anyone have you after this.”

With tender hands that heavily contrasted his desperation, he slipped the shoulder of your dress, dragging the hem down and down until your breasts were bare to the air. “So, so beautiful,” he whispered before enclosing your nubs in his mouth, kissing them both tenderly.

You could only but gasp, victim to his ministrations as he sneaked another hand up your legs, gently caressing your thighs until he met your core. He groaned, louder than ever, when he was met with the bare heat, wet with your desire and arousal all for him. With painstaking gentleness, he eased a finger in, drinking in your moans and sounds of pleasure. 

He couldn’t help but smile at the small scream that escaped you when he curled his fingers up. It seemed he had found the place that pleasured you most, one that you had stayed unbeknownst to. And he definitely couldn’t stop himself from torturing and repeatedly hitting against it with the way squeals of his name left your mouth whenever he did so.

Before you knew it, an unknown feeling washed over you as Choso kept continuing his touches, one that seemed like worship with how he was looking for your reactions, for your pleasure. A gush of slick escaped you, and Choso kissed your breasts one final time before drawing out his finger.

You peered down at him, flushed, as his eyes stayed trained on you while he slowly drew his finger inside his mouth, seeming to savor your taste. At last, he pulled it away from his mouth and asked, voice hoarse, “how are you feeling?”

You laugh bashfully and look away, blushing. “You know you don’t need to ask that. But,” and you pause, looking at him through your lashes, “you know I want more.”

The flush that was only apparent on his cheeks spread to his entire face and neck and he whines as he buries his face in your breasts once more, now to evade eye contact. “Don’t say things like that. It makes holding back even more arduous.”

You stroke his hair, smiling softly. “Would you have any qualms about taking my…maidenhood if you were my husband.”

His answer is immediate. “Absolutely not.”

“So you want to…make love with me?” You heat up at your own words, nervously looking at him in fear of his rejection.

He pauses, but then slowly nods. “Well, yes, but—”

“Then we shall put archaic traditions aside. Choso,” and you look at him mischievously as he squints at you, “I command you to make love to me.”

The reaction is immediate. As if animated again, he pins you down against your mattress, eyes feral as he takes your lips with his once more. With both hands, a riiiip echoes across the room as he entirely tears your shift in his bare hands. Mind you, it was not weak material, and you lay dumbfounded as he strips his shirt off.

You don’t even have time to admire his bare torso, muscled as you knew it would be. Your eyes automatically trail down to the string of hair that leads down to his v-line as he rids himself of his trousers. 

What gets uncovered makes you pray for your life, and you gasp, eyes wide. “How is that even supposed to go inside—”

He says your name, reassuringly, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I will take the utmost care of you. I promise.” He lines his length with your entrance, and, with another kiss, he pushes in gently.

When his member first breaches you, you gasp, dizzied by the fullness. Then, as he slowly bottoms out, you whine while impaled on his cock. “More.”

Basking in the euphoria of your clenching heat around him, at your request, he curses. He pulls out his length—slowly, gently—and then slams back in, and you squeal, whispering a breathless utter of his name once more. 

He continues making love to you, the sounds of his devotion echoing across the room. When you both climax, it is down with a prayer of the other’s name, as a promise. That you are both each other’s, and no qualms about proprietary and status could any longer apprehend either of you.

When the both of you settle down, him having gently cleaned you with a cloth, he collapses next to you in bed, bare arms engulfing you and pulling you closer. As you both lie there, skin to skin, you giggle at your own thoughts.

At the sound, Choso perks up, looking at you in soft amusement. “What’s the matter, my love?”

Ignoring the way your heart fluttered at the nickname, you replied, “I daresay you will be the strongest prince consort in the history of our kingdom.”

The mention of the weak nobles that had ascended the throne in centuries past makes him snicker smugly. “I would agree,” he muses, amused like you. “They would not have been as tall as me, or as strong, or as good in bed—-”

“Choso!” you squealed, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it.

Grinning like a devil, he dodged with ease, catching your wrist and pulling you down onto the bed. Before you could protest, he wrestled himself on top of you, pinning your arms above your head and smothering you in kisses.

After his barrage was over, he turned solemn once more. “I’m serious,” he murmured, his tone softer, more sincere. His dark eyes searched yours, and his voice dropped to a near whisper. “I’ll protect you, stand beside you, love you until my last breath. You’re my queen in every way that matters. And no matter what, I’ll never leave your side again.”

Your breath hitched, his words settling deep in your chest. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you smiled, warmth flooding your heart. “And I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts promise and devotion. It wasn’t hurried or frenzied, but slow, a tangible declaration of everything you both had endured to reach this moment. Here, in the quiet of your chamber, with his weight grounding you and his lips marking you as his, you found the only place you wanted to be—by his side, now and always.

general masterlist

a/n AHH HI POOKIES!! I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED MY FIRST CHOSO FIC?? let me know if i do him justice this was written with my pussy and me having a specific hyperfixation :3 anyways i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you guys did too :')

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3

[townpostin]

DAV Bistupur: Storytelling, Play-Based Learning Highlighted on Final Day of Teacher Training

The second day of the Capacity Building Programme for in-service teachers focused on storytelling and play-based learning for early childhood development. The second day of the Capacity Building Programme for teachers centered on the significance of storytelling and play in early childhood education, offering strategies for effective teaching and assessment. JAMSHEDPUR – The final day of the…

[reasonsforhope]

"Indonesia’s new government started an ambitious project on Monday [January 6, 2025] to fight malnutrition by feeding nearly 90 million children and pregnant women that is expected to cost $28 billion through 2029, although critics question whether the program is affordable.

The Free Nutritious Meal program delivers on a campaign promise by President Prabowo Subianto, who was elected last year to lead the nation, which has more than 282 million people and Southeast Asia’s largest economy. He said the program aims to fight the stunting of growth that afflicts 21.5% of Indonesian children younger than 5 and would raise the income of farmers.

Subianto has pledged to accelerate GDP growth to 8% from 5% now.

In his inauguration speech in October, Subianto said many children are malnourished. His promise to provide free school lunches and milk to 83 million students at more than 400,000 schools is part of a longer-term strategy to develop the nation’s human resources to achieve a “Golden Indonesia” generation by 2045.

“Too many of our brothers and sisters are below the poverty line, too many of our children go to school without breakfast and do not have clothes for school,” Subianto said.

Subianto’s signature program could cost upward of 450 trillion rupiah ($28 billion) by the end of his term in 2029. He said his team has made the calculations to run such a program, and “We are capable.”

The government’s target is to reach an initial 19.5 million schoolchildren and pregnant women in 2025 with a budget of 71 trillion rupiah ($4.3 billion) so as to keep the annual deficit under a legislated ceiling of 3% of GDP, said Dadan Hindayana, the head of the newly formed National Nutrition Agency...

Nearly 2,000 cooperatives will be involved in the free meals program by providing eggs, vegetables, rice, fish, meat, milk and other food, Cooperative Minister Budi Arie Setiadi said.

On Monday, a truck carrying food arrived at SD Cilangkap 08, a primary school in the Jakarta satellite city of Depok. The 740 students were provided rice, stir-fried vegetables, tempeh, stir-fried chicken and oranges.

“We will send a team to each school to facilitate the meal distribution to students every day,” Hindayana said, adding that the program will provide one meal per day for each student from early childhood education to senior high school, covering a third of the daily caloric needs for children, with the government providing the meals at no cost to recipients...

According to the 2023 Indonesian Health Survey, the national stunting prevalence was 21.5%, down around 0.8% from the previous year. The United Nations Children’s Fund estimated that one in 12 Indonesian children younger than 5 suffers from low weight while one in five is shorter than normal. Both conditions are caused by malnourishment.

“That’s so bad and must be solved,” Suwarso said. “Child malnourishment has severe consequences, threatening the health and long-term development of infants and young children throughout this nation.”"

-via Time, January 6, 2025

[totaly-obsessed]

Nerves

Alessia Russo x reader request

-> Reader navigates the uncertainties of her career, academic studies, and the pressures of her first senior England camp, finding solace and comfort in her relationship

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

As a female football player your future career was not guaranteed - one wrong step and all this could be over. Your dream and passion since childhood days could be over.

Anxious as you were, you decided to do something on the side, educate yourself further, and so that it wasn’t as far off from your day job, you had started to study sports science two years ago. The choice of study had been made quickly, after all, you couldn't imagine a life away from the pitch.

Alessia, your girlfriend, stood fully behind you - ready to drive you to the few in-person lectures you had. The blonde would do anything for you. Washing dishes, doing the laundry, sweeping, cooking? One little smile from you and the housework-allergic striker turned into a housewife.

Being called up to your first-ever senior England camp had not been in the plans. Sure it was always something you thought about, especially when Less left for the camps, but you never thought that you would make it this far.

Your girlfriend however had a feeling that you would join her this time - and she was proven right when Sarina called you. The blonde jumped up and down in celebration, pulling you up with her. But once she saw the tears streaming down your face, you were in her strong arms, ready to dry them with her sweater.

The weeks leading up to camp were anything but relaxing - one exam after the other. And they wouldn’t stop for a couple of days either. 

Alessia had been watching you wear yourself thin, most days were filled with practice, media, recovery, and games. Nights were spent studying methods to reduce the risk of sports injuries and strategies for rehabilitating injuries when they occur as well as analyzing the social and cultural aspects of sports participation, organization, governance, and marketing.

If the half-Italian was honest, she didn't understand most of the things you were reading about. Making one flashcard after the other in desperate attempts to get it in your head as she watched the circles under your eyes darken.

The day you left for camp she had been hopeful that things would change from now on. You were out of the comfort of your home, confronted with new and old acquaintances and friends.

But of course, it didn't go as planned.

“Are you sure that you even have a girlfriend, Less?”

You had barricaded yourself in your room for the third evening in a row, trying to prepare for the last exam as well as you possibly could.

“We’ve been over this Tooney, just a few more days!”

The following Monday Alessia had woken you up early, shaking you softly as a paper stuck to your cheek. You had fallen asleep on the desk, and by the look of the untouched bed, this probably wasn't the first time either.

“Buongiorno amore mio, è ora di svegliarsi!” Time to wake up? No that couldn't be.

But a glance at the watch on the wall confirmed your girlfriend's words, you really had to get up now. “Thanks, Lessi.”

A soft peck on the lips later and your girlfriend was willing to help you get ready, or rather gather your things and pack your bag while you were in the bathroom. 

The car ride to your Uni had been peaceful. Just you and Alessia. It hadn't been like that for a while as you were always studying.

“I’m sorry for being a shit girlfriend lately, Less.”

The blonde's head snapped over so fast that you couldn't even blink. “Don’t you dare say that! You’ve been such a good student, and after this, I won’t let you go that easily.”

“Less, eyes on the road!” your clumsy girlfriend had filled with sudden rage at your guilt, headed straight towards a tree on the side of the road.

“Whoops.”

Alessia could see an immediate difference in you when you sat down in her car again. You felt happier. Not a single word was lost in regard to the exam when it had been all you could talk about before. 

While you felt freer you still looked and were incredibly tired, something even Tooney could see, who had been excited to get your lively person back. She missed her go-to person when Less was boring and wouldn’t run around like a crazy person with her.

So when you refused to play darts with her, clinging to your girlfriend on a couch, she was incredibly disappointed. 

“C’mon, I just got you back - play with me before you go back to fucking London!” But the brunette's whining just earned her a shove from her best friend.

“Leave us alone Ella.”

A whisper went through the room, everyone quietly watching as they glared at each other while you snuggled deeper into Lessi’s neck, desperate to sleep.

“No fair! You have her all the time!” She looked like a little kid whose toy had been taken away. And in a way it had been.

“I don’t care Ell-”

“Okay, off Ella!” It was Mary who pulled the angry chihuahua off Alessia's legs and now pointed up at the stairs, “You two, upstairs!”

The blonde didn’t hesitate and stood up, careful not to jostle you too much as she made her way up the stairs. Ella could only watch, mouth wide open, as you waved her goodbye, your head resting on your girlfriend's shoulder.

“You brat!”

[astroismypassion]

✨PART OF FORTUNE IN SIGNS AND HOUSES SERIES: 11TH HOUSE✨

Credit: Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

ARIES PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Aries and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via launching or joining a tech startup, focused on innovative technologies or disruptive business model, via work in community organization or activism, via work in digital marketing or social media management, via providing consulting services to businesses or organizations, advising them on innovation strategies, product development or new market exploration, via work in crowdfunding or fundraising. You feel abundant when you align with social causes, focus on group dynamics and embrace innovation.

TAURUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Taurus and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via work in investment management, focusing on building and managing portfolios that provide stable returns, via art colleting, dealing or curation focusing on pieces that have enduring value, via work in interior design, via work in hospitality management (in luxury hotels, resorts or event planning). You feel abundant when you embrace sustainable and ethical practices, when you practice patience and persistence.

GEMINI PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Gemini and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via engaging in activism, advocacy work, via work in public relations, graphic design, via creative writing, screenwriting, content creation, teaching, tutoring, joining or starting a tech company focused on innovative products or services. You feel abundant when you are focused on community, collective goals, when you stay versatile and adaptable.

CANCER PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Cancer and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via pursuing a career in early childhood education or childcare, nursing, caregiving, mental health services, via work in family and parent education, pursuing culinary arts or catering, engaging in art and design. You feel abundant when you focus on community, social connections, embrace technology and innovation, promote security and stability and use your intuition and emotional intelligence.

LEO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Leo and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can find abundance by managing a charitable organisation. You can earn money via work as a creative director or manager, overseeing projects in fashion, advertising or design, via writing, blogging, content creation focused on inspirational and motivational themes, via work in charity or fundraising, work in teaching (drama, art, public speaking). You feel abundant when maintain confidence in your vision and abilities, when you embrace charisma, leadership and when you pursue a creative career.

VIRGO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Virgo and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via work in tech support, quality assurance, systems analysis, work in non-profit management, pursuing teaching or training roles, engage in environmental research, when you organise workshops or seminars on practical skills, health and wellness. You feel abundant when you focus on health, wellness, when you network, collaborate and when you use technology.

LIBRA PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Libra and Virgo Sun people in your life. You can create wealth by creating and selling DIY kits or tutorials. You could also learn digital or 3D art. You could sell photos on sites like Shutterstock or Adobe Stock. You earn money via event planning, specializing in weddings, social events and community events, work in legal services, such as family law, meditation or contract negotiation. You feel abundant when you embrace collaboration and partnerships, focus on aesthetics and creativity.

SCORPIO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Scorpio and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via holistic healing, alternative medicine, energy work, via astrology, metaphysical studies, spiritual counselling, via biotechnology, healthcare technology, environmental technology, via work in cybersecurity, data analysis or investigative journalism. You feel abundant when embrace deep, transformative work, engage in financial and strategic roles.

SAGITTARIUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Sagittarius and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via career in diplomacy, teaching, lecturing, work in tourism industry, work in educational publishing, work in broadcasting or journalism, work in editing or translation. You feel abundant when you engage in social and humanitarian causes, focus on education and communication, when you embrace international cultural perspectives.

CAPRICORN PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Capricorn and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via real estate development, work in corporate training and development, taking on leadership roles in non-profit organizations that focus on social justice, community development or environmental sustainability. You feel abundant when emphasize practical, realistic approach, when you use network and social connections.

AQUARIUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via streaming on platforms (Twitch), participating in esports or creating gaming content. You earn money via scientific research, when you create or support educational programs that focus on skills for the future (digital literacy, innovation), when you create content that explores futuristic concepts, technology trends or social change using platforms like YouTube, a blog, podcast. You feel abundant when you focus on technology and future trends and when you stay true to your unconventional nature.

PISCES PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Pisces and Aquarius Sun people in your life. You can earn money via storytelling, work in holistic healing fields, massage therapy, via painting, writing, music or film, via offering spiritual or life coaching services. You feel abundant when stay true to your intuitive insights, embrace spiritual and healing practices and when you focus on humanitarian and compassionate work.

Credit: Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

[schizoidvision]

🔤 Schizoid Words: A Guide to Understanding Adaptation...

Definition: Adaptation refers to the process of adjusting to new circumstances or environments in order to survive or thrive. In psychology, adaptation involves modifying one's thoughts, behaviors, or emotions to better fit the demands of a given situation.

The Schizoid Experience...

- Adaptation plays a strategic role in the lives of individuals with schizoid dynamics or schizoid personality disorder.

- Individuals develop adaptive strategies as a means of protecting themselves from perceived threats to their emotional well-being.

- Schizoid adaptation is characterized by a withdrawal from emotional engagement in social interactions.

- Individuals prioritize self-reliance and autonomy to avoid potential vulnerabilities or hurts.

- This adaptation may manifest as a preference for solitude, introspection, and independence.

- Schizoid individuals seek to create a safe emotional distance from others.

- Additionally, schizoid adaptation may involve a focus on intellectual pursuits or solitary activities.

- It serves as a means of finding fulfillment and meaning outside of social relationships.

Reasons for Schizoid Adaptations...

- Schizoid adaptations can arise from various factors, including lack of parental attunement, early childhood experiences, and environmental stressors.

- Individuals may develop adaptive strategies in response to adverse or traumatic experiences, such as parental neglect, rejection, or emotional abuse.

- Individuals who have made schizoid adaptations often come from backgrounds where they were not treated as a person in their own right and did not have their emotional needs recognized by their caregivers.

- These experiences may lead them to withdraw from emotional connections to protect themselves from further harm.

- Genetic factors may also contribute to schizoid adaptations, as certain personality traits or temperament may predispose individuals to prefer solitude and introspection over social interactions.

- Environmental stressors, such as societal pressures or interpersonal conflicts, may further reinforce schizoid adaptations as individuals seek to navigate the complexities of their social environment while maintaining their autonomy and integrity.

Schizoid Education Videos

[orochiposting]

Naomi Senju ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ | Bio and Facts 

art by the incredible @ its.sunjyo on instagram <3

Name: Naomi Senju 直美 千手 Nickname(s): Nao, Nao-Nao, Mi-Mi, Little Mouse, Princess Naomi Age: 26-27 (Part 1), 30-31 (Part 2), 33 (The Last), 52 (Boruto) Date of Birth: July 13th | 07/13 Status: Alive Current Affiliation: Konohagakure Parents: Tsunade Senju and Jiraiya: The Toad Sage Height: 5’2 or 157.5 cm (Part 1), 5’4 or 162.5 cm (Part 2 & Onward). Weight: 120 lbs or 54 kg Rank: Jonin / Medical Nin MBTI: INTP Gender & Pronouns: Ciswoman & She/Her Sexuality: Bisexual Romantic Interest: Orochimaru (mostly enemies to lovers)

Short Facts

Child Prodigy 

Daughter of Lady Tsunade and Jiraiya

Attained one of Orochimaru’s curse marks around the same time as her teammate Anko. (one of the early forms, before Jugo)

Capable of Water and Earth Release. Eventually learning how to perform Wood Style Release due to a mixture of reasons such as; Her Senju heritage, her natural chakra nature being water and her being capable of earth release, her chakra control and ability to mix the natures at will, and the Hashirama cells from Orochimaru’s initial curse mark form. 

Created her own version of her father's hair needle jizo technique.

Assigned to keep an eye on Orochimaru during Boruto, alongside Yamato. 

In her free time whenever she isn't surveilling Orochimaru, Naomi works at and with children from the ninja academy as a tutor. 

She views Mitsuki as a son

Fun Facts

She is ambidextrous (both right-handed and left-handed, technically.)

Naomi roughly translates to “straight and beautiful.” The kanji for Nao means “blunt, honest, and/or frank.” And Mi which means “Beauty.” 

A heavy drinker and regular smoker

She's read every one of her father's 'romance' novels

Close/Best friends with Kakashi, previously close & even protective of/with Obito during their childhood

Like her mother, she's often called a 'princess' due to her clan and heritage relating to the Hokages throughout the village's history.

Her favorite color is lilac

She's an 'oddly skilled cook' according to anyone who's eaten food prepared by her.

Despite taking after both of her parents in a multitude of ways, she refuses to ever begin or try gambling due to how it affected her relationship with her mother when she was young.

Likes

Reading

Romance or Action/Adventure Novels

Rain

Drinking

Training

Red Spider Lillies

Mice / Small Rodents

Smoking

Snakes

Cooking Meals (for herself or others)

Picnics 

Long Hair (both on her or those she finds attractive)

Routine/Repetition

Competition 

Caffeinated Drinks (Especially Tea)

Studying (Jutsu’s, Science and History) 

Particularly Fond of Biology 

Teaching / Educating 

Dislikes

High Pitched Voices

Hot Weather

Eggplant (the actual vegetable) 

Having Her Picture Taken

Crowded Rooms

Mushrooms

Winged or Flying Insects / Bugs

Sweating

Lightning 

Riddles

Her Hair Being Touched 

Losing to Those She Considers Weaker than She is

Gambling Without a Strategy (So Most Gambling)

Sour Sweets or Foods

Laundry

Personality Traits 

Positive – Persuasive, Analytical, Convincing, Intuitive, Efficient, Caring, Blunt, Honest, Often on High Alert, Observational, Compassionate, Passionate, Intelligent, Calculated, Ambitious, Tactical, Usually Unselfish, Creative, Studious, Witty, Unconventional, Aloof, Merciful, Understanding, Hardworking, Innovative, Resourceful, Resilient

Negative – Abrasive, Emotional, Bipolar, Stubborn, Morbid, Obsessive, Indecisive, Undisciplined, Somewhat Disorganized, Addictive, Impulsive, Jealous, Paranoid, Resentful, Self-Destructive, Temperamental, Snarky, Restless, Sarcastic, Perverted

Life Motto – “If you’re not obsessed with your life, change it.”

Nindo: “What is meant to be will always find a way.” referring to how she truly believes if something is meant to be, it’ll happen no matter what.

Clan Info

Clan Name: Senju Specialty: The Senju clan is known as "the clan with a thousand skills" (千の手を持つ一族, "sen no te o motsu ichizoku") because they can master ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, and other techniques to give themselves a variety of skills for fighting. The Senju clan's name, "Senju" (千手), directly means "a thousand skills" or "a thousand hands." Kekkei Genkai: Wood Release  Ninja Information Birth Village: The Hidden Leaf / Konohagakure  Current Village: The Hidden Leaf / Konohagakure Academy Graduation Age / Genin Age: 6 Chūnin Promotion Age: 10 Rank: Jonin Previous Teammates: Anko Mitarashi & Tokuma Hyuga Previous Sensei(s): Orochimaru Natural Chakra Nature: Water (although capable of Earth, Wind, and Wood.) Weapon(s): Initially, simple kunai and a regular katana– but following Orochimaru being sealed by Itachi, Oro drops the Sword of Kusanagi/The Grass-Mowing Sword and while Pakkun is searching for Sasuke it is found. When returned to the village, Pakkun gives the sword to Kakashi– who gives it to Naomi to keep.  Talents/Skill(s): Master of Most Medical Ninjutsu/Completed Tsunade’s Medical Ninjutsu training. If marked with an (O) she learned it from Orochimaru. If marked with a (T) she learned it from her mother, Tsunade. If marked with a (J) she learned it from her father, Jiraiya.  Jutsu(s): Teleportation Technique, Substitution Technique, Hidden Shadow Snake Hands(O), Mist Servant Technique, Sly Mind Affect Technique, Water Release Hiding in Water Technique, Water Release Water Gun, Water Release Wild Water Wave, Water Release Water Dragon Jutsu, Wind Release Gale Palm(O), Water Severing Wave, Wind Release Great Breakthrough(O), Vacuum Sword, Earth Release Hiding Like a Mole Technique(O), Earth Release Shadow Clone, Earth Release Swamp of the Underworld(J), Bruising Sky Leg (T), Wild Lion’s Mane Technique, Needle Jizo Technique(J), Hair Needle Senbon(J), “Gallant Needle Hedgehog Technique” (self-made, named after her father + hair manipulation sub-jutsu), Reserve Seal-The Hundred Healings Mark(T)

(incomplete) Backstory  (will be updated...)

Naomi Senju is the only daughter of Lady Tsunade and The Toad Sage Jiraiya— a result of a one-night stand between the two legendary sannins who shared a complex relationship. She was raised by her mother, unaware of who her father was until she was 4 years old due to her mother’s wariness on Jiraiya’s stance on fatherhood or his ability to commit to such a life. But he adored his daughter once finding out about her, despite still being gone most of the time to ‘research’ for his novels or on actual missions. When he would visit the village, he’d spend days with both his daughter and Tsunade. Bonding with both of them and even training Naomi little by little— and she was a little prodigy. Her chakra control and output being her strong suit even when just enrolling in the academy– which she did early at just age 4.

As Naomi aged, her mother’s gambling addiction grew ‘worse’ and she too was often gone— Leaving a young Naomi to become self-sufficient early on. She studied on her own, and with the sensei’s from the academy more often than she’d do anything else. However, her years in the ninja academy were vital for her— making a select few friendships that would last a lifetime with her fellow classmates. The young Senju struggled with making friends, though mostly due to how hot-headed she came off at that age. Not tolerating bullying around her, and not hesitating to fight others that tried to push her too far. She would have gotten in trouble if it wasn’t for how the adults seemed to favor her, be it for her young talent or sannin parentage. 

The competitive prodigy she was, once Naomi heard wind of her friend Kakashi taking the graduation exam early, she couldn’t bear falling behind. Frustrated, the young girl stormed off in a fury without thinking— not paying attention to if anyone was watching her or where she was going. She found herself lost in the forest outside of the village before several large, ferocious animals approached her. Snarling and sniffing at her before relaxing, rubbing against her extended hand for them to smell. It was confusing and odd, both for Naomi and Orochimaru who watched from a distance. The scene before the sannin taught him not to move any closer, expecting the animals to be sensitive to who could get to whatever they were guarding. But for some reason, Naomi was allowed— in fact, one of the oversized hounds began to lead her further into the woods. It was in this forest she’d find the Senju Clan’s hideout for the first time, reading a small inscription that guided her on entry before making her way inside. Curiously and anxiously looking around before spotting scroll after scroll, and book after book. She stayed in the hidden temple for hours, reading and attempting to replicate what she’d learned. When she finally left the building, Naomi knew she had learned something that would for sure convince the academy to allow her to graduate early too. 

When she returned to the village, being guided out of the thick of the forest by the oversized puppies(in her eyes), Naomi went straight to her sensei and insisted he’d watch her perform a jutsu for graduation. Once given permission, she led the teachers outdoors and began to form hand signs in quick succession before a beam of wood protruded from the palm of her hand. Extending towards a tree only 3 yards away from the young girl, before falling onto the ground. With an annoyed huff, she stomped and released the jutsu- allowing the wood to fall from her hand before she crossed her arms over her chest in a pout as she complained she didn’t do it correctly. Despite this little tantrum for not being ‘perfect,’ both the teachers and Orochimaru in the distance were astonished to see the young girl performing wood-style release even if unpolished. She was instantly granted the right to graduate alongside Kakashi. Although neither of them would be placed on teams of 3 until later, they instead did small solo assignments within the village until the rest of their class graduated. 

It was due to her unexpected ability to hone wood-style jutsu that Orochimaru would take an initial interest in her- her potential rather, especially considering the experiments he was actively working on at the time in secret. He’d start to come by more often, offering her guidance in her training until she would eventually be placed on a team of 3 alongside her friend Anko under the sannin’s tutelage. Like Anko, Orochimaru would bring Naomi to his laboratory and teach her. Both the young girls looked up to him, and Naomi even felt pride at how well she retained information or would actually assist in his work- even if she didn’t understand what was going on with it, or any of the real details. Years would pass of Naomi growing close to her sensei, attached to both him and the lab itself– almost seeing it as a safe place to do and say as she pleases. And yet, it was one fateful day when Orochimaru would bring Naomi to his lab that would change her life, and how she’d view those ‘happy’ memories of training with him for years to come. The day he would place the curse mark on her before doing the same to Anko days later, the original version of it— with Hashirama cells, curious to see how she’d react compared to the Senju children like Tenzo he was experimenting on. It was painful, confusing, and horrifying for the young girl— but she survived, and that was a positive. Soon after both she and Anko return to the village, the third coincidentally finds out about Orochimaru’s experiments on the different children and humans. Leading the girl’s sensei to abandon both them and the village altogether. 

Following Orochimaru’s disappearance, Naomi struggled to manage her curse mark while still training for the chunin exams– Seeing as when Orochimaru was still both her and Anko’s sensei he recommended the team for promotion. All three of his previous students would pass the exams and become chunin. 

For 4 years, Naomi went on missions with other chunin or assisted Jonin on any assignments she could get in between her solo training– trying to make up for the loss of a teacher on her own. Although, she finally got some solid one-on-one training with her father, Jiraiya, in this period of ‘peace.’ He’d finally teach her about his hair manipulation technique or more specifically the Needle Jizō technique. 

When the nine tails attacked, Naomi was 14. Despite all she’d seen and gone through up to this point, the destruction left on her home by the nine-tails was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The horrors she saw from the attack caused her to put her studies and training into overdrive as if she wasn’t already overworking herself. In just two years after the nine-tails attack, Naomi had successfully passed the exam and additional requirements to be promoted to Jonin at age 16.  (I will make posts with art of her I get commissioned over time to describe and talk about her life during the series !! and potentially write more about her as a whole.)

[mariacallous]

Building on the evidence from the first paper in this Series highlighting the fundamental importance of healthy and nurturing environments for children's growth and development in the next 1000 days (ages 2–5 years), this paper summarises the benefits and costs of key strategies to support children's development in this age range. The next 1000 days build on the family-based and health-sector based interventions provided in the first 1000 days and require broader multisectoral programming. Interventions that have been shown to be particularly effective in this age range are the provision of early childhood care and education (ECCE), parenting interventions, and cash transfers. We show that a minimum package of 1 year of ECCE for all children would cost on average less than 0·15% of low-income and middle-income countries' current gross domestic product. The societal cost of not implementing this package at a national and global level (ie, the cost of inaction) is large, with an estimated forgone benefit of 8–19 times the cost of investing in ECCE. We discuss implications of the overall evidence presented in this Series for policy and practice, highlighting the potential of ECCE programming in the next 1000 days as an intervention itself, as well as a platform to deliver developmental screening, growth monitoring, and additional locally required interventions. Providing nurturing care during this period is crucial for maintaining and further boosting children's progress in the first 1000 days, and to allow children to reach optimal developmental trajectories from a socioecological life-course perspective.

[anarkittyuwuuniverse]

"We have to take what useful work remains and transform it into a pleasing variety of game-like and craft-like pastimes, indistinguishable from other pleasurable pastimes except that they happen to yield useful end-products. Surely that shouldn’t make them less enticing to do. Then all the artificial barriers of power and property could come down. Creation could become recreation. And we could all stop being afraid of each other.

I don’t suggest that most work is salvageable in this way. But then most work isn’t worth trying to save. Only a small and diminishing fraction of work serves any useful purpose independent of the defense and reproduction of the work-system and its political and legal appendages. Thirty years ago, Paul and Percival Goodman estimated that just five percent of the work then being done—presumably the figure, if accurate, is lower now—would satisfy our minimal needs for food, clothing and shelter. Theirs was only an educated guess but the main point is quite clear: directly or indirectly, most work serves the unproductive purposes of commerce or social control. Right off the bat we can liberate tens of millions of salesmen, soldiers, managers, cops, stockbrokers, clergymen, bankers, lawyers, teachers, landlords, security guards, ad-men and everyone who works for them. There is a snowball effect since every time you idle some bigshot you liberate his flunkies and underlings also. Thus the economy implodes.

Forty percent of the workforce are white-collar workers, most of whom have some of the most tedious and idiotic jobs ever concocted. Entire industries, insurance and banking and real estate for instance, consist of nothing but useless paper-shuffling. It is no accident that the “tertiary sector,” the service sector, is growing while the “secondary sector” (industry) stagnates and the “primary sector” (agriculture) nearly disappears. Because work is unnecessary except to those whose power it secures, workers are shifted from relatively useful to relatively useless occupations as a measure to ensure public order. Anything is better than nothing. That’s why you can’t go home just because you finish early. They want your time, enough of it to make you theirs, even if they have no use for most of it. Otherwise why hasn’t the average work week gone down by more than a few minutes in the last sixty years?

Next we can take a meat-cleaver to production work itself. No more war production, nuclear power, junk food, feminine hygiene deodorant—and above all, no more auto industry to speak of. An occasional Stanley Steamer or Model T might be all right, but the auto-eroticism on which such pest-holes as Detroit and Los Angeles depend is out of the question. Already, without even trying, we’ve virtually solved the energy crisis, the environmental crisis and assorted other insoluble social problems.

Finally, we must do away with far and away the largest occupation, the one with the longest hours, the lowest pay and some of the most tedious tasks around. I refer to housewives doing housework and child-rearing. By abolishing wage-labor and achieving full unemployment we undermine the sexual division of labor. The nuclear family as we know it is an inevitable adaptation to the division of labor imposed by modern wage-work. Like it or not, as things have been for the last century or two it is economically rational for the man to bring home the bacon, for the woman to do the shitwork and provide him with a haven in a heartless world, and for the children to be marched off to youth concentration camps called “schools,” primarily to keep them out of Mom’s hair but still under control, but incidentally to acquire the habits of obedience and punctuality so necessary for workers. If you would be rid of patriarchy, get rid of the nuclear family whose unpaid “shadow work,” as Ivan Illich says, makes possible the work-system that makes it necessary. Bound up with this no-nukes strategy is the abolition of childhood and the closing of the schools. There are more full-time students than full-time workers in this country. We need children as teachers, not students. They have a lot to contribute to the ludic revolution because they’re better at playing than grown-ups are. Adults and children are not identical but they will become equal through interdependence. Only play can bridge the generation gap." -Bob Black, The Abolition of Work

[jeannereames]

Based on the tactics vs strategy component of your most recent ask (on how ATG should or should not be depicted on TV)—do you think, if he hadn’t died so soon and lived a little longer, he might’ve been able to improve his strategic mindset? I think that’s how Philip became good at it, right? After experiencing some failures. I think perhaps that’s one of the tragedies of Philip not being around longer—he might’ve been able to show his son how to handle mistakes and move on from them.

Oh, I think Alexander was definitely improving as a strategist. He was never bad, he just wasn’t Philip… who was exceptional. But Philip had to learn very early, just to survive. I doubt the man had much of a childhood.

A quick review of Philip’s early life, for those reading who may not already know. We think he may have been sent to the Illyrian court of Bardylis at some point in his childhood; for how long is unclear. (If I ever get around to a Philip novel, that’s where I’m starting it, too.) Then he must have come home, only to be sent down to Thebes as a hostage when he was in his early teens. He returned to Macedonia once Perdikkas was no longer a minor himself and could kill his erstwhile regent. Some years later, Perdikkas made him archon of a canton (maybe Amphaxitis?), probably when he was c.18-20 years of age, where he had his own little militia to train. Perdikkas was dead on a battlefield, fighting Illyria, before Philip was 24.

So, he came to the throne a bit later than Alexander but suffered a MUCH more uncertain childhood. It makes Alexander’s look like the “poor little rich boy,” tbh. This is why I respect Philip so much. No, I don’t think he was “greater than Alexander” (as per Richard Gabriel), but I do think he earned his place as, per Diodoros, “the greatest of the kings of Europe.”

I will also add that I suspect Philip benefited a lot from his mother Eurydike’s advice, as did his brother Perdikkas. There was a woman to be in awe of! I also think it’s why Philip was so damn determined to see that Alexander got a “proper” education. Yes, it owed the influence of Thebes’ upper-crust circles…but also residue from his own “school of hard knocks” upbringing.

It also explains why he was a master chess player. He’d had to be, just to stay alive.

Alexander learned quickly, but he didn’t have to exercise it quite as young; Daddy was there to take care of things. Mostly masterfully (outside his private life). Then Philip got himself killed, and Alexander was on his own at just 20. No surprise if he made mistakes, but being king already, they were on full display for posterity in a way Philip’s weren’t. (In fact, we know almost nothing of Philip’s childhood, as evinced by the brevity of my summary above.)

To my mind, one of the tragedies for both men was Philip’s sudden death. While it’s possible they might have clashed even more as Alexander aged, their friction may also have eased. Alexander was right on the cusp of that age when teenaged boys transform back into somewhat sane human beings. Ha. My own seemed to change virtually overnight between about 22 and 23. Philip had been dead two years by then, and Alexander invaded Persia at 22.

Many years ago, I wrote an alternate history short story for Gene Borza’s birthday, wherein Philip died at Chaironeia, and Alexander was taken captive, then had to escape and re-do everything Daddy had done. It was fun to imagine what might have happened, in part to underscore how singular/important Chaironeia was for not only Philip, but Alexander too.

Yet an equally interesting “What if?” would be that Philip wasn’t assassinated in 336 and did invade Persia that autumn. But let’s say he didn’t survive “Granikos” or “Issos” (or whatever those would have been for him*), while Alexander did. What might that have looked like, giving Alexander another 2-3 years under Philip, only becoming king himself around the same age his father had? (23-24?)

I love alternate history scenarios when well-done. (Maybe why I’m a big fan of Melissa Scott’s A Choice of Destinies.)

So in short, yes, I agree that it was a tragedy that Philip didn’t live at least a few years more. And somebody needs to write that alternate history. Then send me the link. Ha.

——

* I think, if it HAD been Philip at the head of the army, Darius would have taken him much more seriously, probably moving up the timeframe of a serious clash (such as Issos). I suspect Philip, like Alexander, would plan to take the Asia Minor coast the same way, to cut off the navy. Darius might have come after him with a bigger army somewhere in Asia Minor. But I also think Asia Minor would have gone over to Philip more easily, as he was proven material and that area had already rebelled against Artaxerxes only about a decade or so prior.

[archersarrow-tarot]

| The 12 Astrological Houses |

Each house is associated with a zodiac sign and it’s planetary ruler.

House 1: House of Self😬

Aries • Mars

“I am.” The first house influences your image, your appearance, your ego, identity, your temperament, how charismatic you are, your attitude, your dignity, your self-image, your consciousness, first impressions people have of you, your sense of self, how you interact with the world, self-awareness, your outlook on life, self-actualization, and your choices.

House 2: House of Posessions🪞

Taurus • Venus

“I have.” The second house influences your earning ability, how you spend money, personal resources, self-worth, your assets, possessions, finances, values, earnings, loans, accumulations, lending, attachments.

House 3: House of Communication

Gemini • Mercury

“I think.” Third house influences your communication, thought processing, Curiosity, perspective, language, how you transport, technology, early education, learning, your relationships with your siblings and neighbors, reactions, how you learn.,

House 4: House of Roots

Cancer • Moon

“I nurture.” The fourth house influences your home, family, childhood, how you practice self-care, emotional security, private life, you roots, ancestry, genetics, foundations, old age, real estate, traditions, youth, agriculture, mining, nurturing.

House 5: House of Fun

Leo • The Sun

“I will.” The fifth house influences your beauty and what/where you find beauty, love, passion, talents, self expression, pleasure, children, gambling, integration, performance, vacations, romance, hobbies, fertility, casual sex, and inner child.

House 6: House of Service

Virgo • Mercury

“I serve.” The sixth house influences your health, wellness, service, duty, routines, healing, coworkers, forgiveness, pets, diet, mentorship, meditation, hygiene, helpfulness, forgiveness, and skills.

House 7: House of Relationships

Libra • Venus

“I partner” The seventh house influences your partnerships, relationships, connections, marriages, contracts, foreign affairs, feedback, equality, confrontation, invention, and how you relate.

House 8: House of Debt

Scorpio • Pluto

“I desire” The eighth house influences your death, magic, tattoos, inheritance, authority, occult, regeneration, Transformation, how you bond with others, your attitude towards growth and change, other peoples money, reproduction, respect, and your regulations.

House 9: House of Opening

Sagittarius • Jupiter

“I see” The ninth house influences your big ideas, beliefs, education, philosophy, expansion, publishing, media, Internet, legal, understanding, purpose, spirituality, ethics, love, religion, and how you interact with in-laws.

House 10: House of Public Space

Capricorn • Saturn

“I use” The tenth house influences your professional path, social standing, public personal, ambition, fame, career, reputation, social status, power, boss, public space, and business.

House 11: House of Hope

Aquarius • Uranus

“I aspire” The eleventh house influences your groups, networks, aspirations, community, coalitions, social circle, cooperation, earned wealth, teamwork, wishes, strategies, goals, balance, art and culture trends.

House 12: House of Transcendence

Pisces • Neptune

“I dream” The twelfth house influences your introspection, your unconscious, your shadow self, your remedies, your discriminations, what you fantasize about, your secrets, how much you isolate self, your problem-solving, how you release, your addictions, and how you follow orders.

[kxttsstuff]

Borrower Age & Education 

🐿️;; When a borrower is born, they're already considered a child, not a ‘baby’ in the human way of seeing it. Because of that, they already have very important responsibilities on their backs. And their very first task is to learn how to walk, which they learn to do in their first month of life. This is why it is said “Borrowers are born working”

🐿️;; Borrowers are surprisingly fast learners, and it enhances their ability to adapt to multiple situations and skills that require a creative or a physical input. They also have a natural sense of curiosity, to learn how things work. To be curious for a borrower is healthy and normal, but when it's too much, it can lead to the awful consequence of being caught.

Education

🪡;; Obviously, borrowers normally don't have access to formalized forms of learning like schools or colleges, most of them would be what humans call homeschooled so that means most of their knowledge comes from his family and community. That also means families can prioritize certain skills over others, skipping them entirely or even teaching extra things, so this will list the most general possible of things borrowers learn since their early childhood in order to be considered independent and fully capable once they reach adulthood.

🪡;; Most commonly, borrowers learn by example and observation, some parents might do something once and expect their child to figure it on their own. However, children get involved in almost any task or chore.

🪡;; All of these skills are almost never restricted to gender.

🪡;; Regarding mentality, borrowers are heavily encouraged to learn patience, perseverance, resilience, and develop quick problem-solving, decision-making, and critical-thinking trains of thought. These are all traits that portray a borrower as well educated.

🧵;; Sewing, embroidery and knitting. Borrowers learn to make and modify their own clothes according to the materials available and the season. Parents give children their first set of clothes, but they are encouraged to modify them themselves as they grow, or even start making their own.

🏹 ;; Hunting, skinning, tanning, tracking and crafting traps. Even though borrowers tend to prefer just borrowing food, in times of scarcity they'll resort to hunting so they must know different strategies for different prey, how to fight them, how to make full use of it, and are desensitized from a young age to what this entails.

🏥 ;; First aid. Borrowers are taught from a young age how to perform CPR, how to disinfect, stitch and cauterize wounds, make splints, treat poison, treat choking, bites, burns, and even panic attacks.

🔥 ;; How to ignite a fire without matches, to keep warmth, to cook food or to ward off predators. As well as learning how to obtain potable water in different circumstances.

⚔️ ;; How to craft and use weapons/shields of different kinds. They also learn how to make a variety of knots for this purpose, but also to make other tools or even shelters. Also, hand-to-hand combat.

💪🏻;; Techniques of self-defense, and evasion. Weapons aren't usually the response of a borrower at feeling threatened, so they must learn how to avoid a fight to escalate; by running, hiding, dodging, being stealthy or camouflaging.

🪚 ;; Making of shelters, miscellaneous tools, and basic carpentry (mainly to maintain their homes and furniture)

🌸 ;; Knowledge about the local fauna and flora. For most modern borrowers, “local fauna” might refer to cats, dogs, rodents and bugs.

🍓 ;; Foraging. Borrowers close to the wild might be more specialized in this. Those living in homes could identify edible plants and fungus, and in what stage of growth they are, as well as identifying herbs with medicinal value.

❗;; Specific communication-based skills; these might be unique based on gesture, sounds, symbols, or other non-verbal means of  borrower communication.

❓;; Basics of human psychology, biology and behavior; like why humans do some things and how to ‘read’ them. This knowledge might probably not be accurate to reality, but it has worked for them in the long-run. This can intertwine with their culture, generating fear-inspiring stories that ward off curious borrowers. They're also often expected to learn how to adapt to human routine.

📚 ;; Cultural values which often include the borrower rules, oral storytelling, resource management, risk assessment, environmental awareness and cooperation/teamwork.

🔢 ;; A very rudimentary math, mainly used to tell the time, counting things and do basic operations.

[cripvideoproductions]

Join Margot Cole from Crip Video Productions as she shares her invaluable insights on Cerebral Palsy with future educators in Professor Carol Carielli's class on early childhood education and development. This presentation is a must-watch for anyone looking to deepen their understanding of disability advocacy and accessible teaching strategies.

Margot, a passionate advocate and storyteller, draws from her own experiences and the mission of Crip Video Productions to create films that increase understanding of disabilities through engaging storytelling depicting disabled people living vibrantly in the film’s narratives. Her talk is informative, providing practical tips for new educators on how to create a fully accessible classroom environment for all students.

During  this enlightening presentation, other impactful resources are discussed such as videos created by Dylan Rothbein, including those about the historic capitol crawl in 1990. https://youtu.be/7srPFCa2QU0?si=5N_vVTGlfkZQV1CY  These videos offer a glimpse into the pivotal moments of the disability rights movement and serve as a powerful educational resource, along with information about Teatro Paraguas https://www.teatroparaguasnm.org .

‍ What You'll Learn:

•  Understanding Cerebral Palsy and its impact on learning.

•  Effective teaching methods for students with disabilities.

•  The importance of disability advocacy in education.

Further Viewing:

"A Stroke of Endurance" - A film by Margot Cole

“Drama Sighted” A Film by Margot Cole

•  Dylan Rothbein's videos on the capitol crawl, a significant event that led to the Americans with Disabilities Act 

For more information on Crip Video Productions and their work, visit their official website http://www.cripvideoproductions.com/. Don't forget to like, share, and subscribe for more content on disability awareness and advocacy.

This video is posted with Carol Carrielli’s full permission.  

[prabhatjairam]

Coping Strategies for Children with Learning Disabilities

Learning, playing, and growing are the primary objectives of childhood. All kids learn to make sense of the world at an early age. However, some of them face certain challenges. They fight with an undiagnosed disability that prevents them from learning skills. When taught traditionally, having a learning disability interferes with the ability to master various concepts.

Students with learning disabilities have difficulty recognizing content in their minds. They struggle with information integration, such as the ability to sequence, organize, and retrieve skills. So, here are some pointers and tricks to make their life easier. These tips will help disabled children become stronger and more resilient.

Learning Disability: An Overview

The term "learning disorder" is a neurological condition affecting the intellectual ability to send, receive, and process information. It is a problem that prevents students from learning a skill and applying it effectively. A child with this kind of disability may face problems in reading, listening, speaking, writing, and understanding mathematical concepts.

Types of Learning Disorders

A learning disability alters brain functioning in such a manner that it affects cognitive processes related to learning. Some of the notable problems that interfere with learning basic skills are discussed below:

Dyslexia

Dyslexia is one of the major learning disabilities that is neurobiological in origin. It involves trouble reading due to problems recognizing speech sounds and learning how they relate to words and letters. It commonly affects spelling, word recognition, and the potential to match characters to sounds. The primary cause of dyslexia is not completely understood as it could be related to genetic factors that affect brain development. 

Dyspraxia

Dyspraxia is a common mental disorder, also known as DCD (Developmental Coordination Disorder), that affects movement and coordination. Children with dyspraxia reach their developmental milestones late and behave immaturely. Messages sent from the brain to the muscles are disrupted in this neurodevelopmental disorder, causing problems with tying shoelaces, handwriting, grabbing items, and so on. It also makes riding a bicycle and playing sports difficult for children. There is no single cause of dyspraxia, as it can occur due to genetic components, damage to the brain, premature birth, or an accident.

Dysgraphia

Another learning disorder, dysgraphia, causes difficulty in turning thoughts into written language. It affects adults and children, impairing their writing ability which involves spelling, word spacing, grammar, punctuation, legibility, and expression. When compared to an intellectual child, children with dysgraphia frequently have to work much harder to produce written work. The actual cause of dysgraphia is unknown, but when it develops in adults, the cause is usually a brain stroke or injury.

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The best tips for dealing with a child’s learning disability

Kids with learning disabilities experience anxiety, low self-esteem, and depression. They require motivation and support from their peers and educators. Parents should never minimize their role in helping their children learn at each level. The support that they provide to their kids boosts confidence and determination, which are needed to achieve goals in their lives. Here are various tricks that can be beneficial for parents dealing with their child’s learning impairment.

1. Appreciate your kid’s efforts.

A child with a learning disability needs instructions and careful guidance to master the skills needed to be independent. Parents should appreciate their child’s efforts so they can give their best despite the attributes of failure for "not trying enough." When peers praise their kids, they focus more on improving and practicing skills.

2. Builds a strong connection.

Disabled kids need more love, care, and support. The most important thing for parents of disabled children is to create a good relationship and take an active role in their kids' activities. If teachers and parents have a strong connection with their children, they feel secure and safe. Through a positive outlook, you can easily understand your child’s behavior, which motivates them to complete their tasks smoothly.

If you want to enhance your child’s learning skills, get help from an online education portal like “study24hr.com”. It is an exceptional platform that delivers the best services and facilities to its learners. The platform aims at creating a collaborative environment where children can ask their queries and easily interact with their educators. In addition, “study24hr.com” allows teachers and educational institutes to publish notes, question papers, and mock test papers on its website for student enhancement.

3. Provide emotional support.

As a parent, focus on your kids’ abilities and what they can do rather than their disabilities. Usually, disabled children need physical and emotional support. If caretakers help them throughout their interesting tasks, they feel motivated and enthusiastic. Remember, whenever you’re communicating with your child, make sure to use polite and soft language.

4. Spend quality time.

Guardians and peers should ensure that they spend time talking with their mentally disordered kids. They must explain in simple language what it is they're doing, telling them all about their environment, smiling with them, and making noises around them so they can respond to noises. This will enhance their thinking and learning skills.

5. Identify your child’s learning style.

Every child is unique and has a different learning style. Some kids learn best by listening (auditory learners), some by doing (kinaesthetic learners), and some by visualizing (visual learners). To help your kids with learning disabilities, try to identify your child’s preferred learning style and appreciate it.

The Epilogue

Understanding a child’s concerns and requirements should be the primary concern of parents. As a parent, you should never stop trying because it’s only you who can care for and support your child. Remember, if you make an effort, you’ll get the best outcome. Always try to provide positive reinforcement and encourage your child to perform well. However, every kid is unique and important. So, take help from the tips listed above and make your child’s learning journey better.

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Refined Consequences: A bitter truth about refined sugar

Refined sugar has become a staple in our diets, hidden in everything from beverages and chocolates to cereals, protein bars, and countless processed foods. Its presence in almost all packaged and canned products makes it difficult to avoid (Snow, 1948). While sugar may make food taste better, its impact on public health is far from sweet. The overconsumption of refined sugar has become a serious societal issue that demands effective solutions.

Excessive sugar intake can lead to chronic health problems such as obesity, high blood pressure, tooth decay, fatigue, and even skin conditions. Children are especially vulnerable. High sugar consumption in childhood often leads to lifelong health problems, including early-onset obesity, which is closely linked to type 2 diabetes (Snow, 1948). Sugar can harm brain health, impairing memory and cognitive function, and potentially increasing the risk of Alzheimer’s disease (Moreira, 2013).

It’s important to note that not all sugars are created equal. Natural sugars found in fruits, honey, and molasses are easier for the body to process when consumed in moderation. These natural options often come with added benefits like fiber, vitamins, and antioxidants. In contrast, refined sugar provides empty calories, with none of the nutrients that the body needs.

Addressing this sugar crisis requires both personal action and broader societal changes.

First, better nutrition education is crucial. Many people don’t realize just how much sugar they consume because it’s often hidden in processed foods under different names. The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends that sugar make up no more than 10% of your daily energy intake, which is around 12 teaspoons (or 50 grams) for adults (World Health Organization, 2024). Reading nutrition labels more carefully can help people cut back on their sugar intake.

The food industry also has a role to play. In response to growing health concerns, many companies are replacing sugar with healthier alternatives, like stevia or monk fruit, which don’t spike blood sugar or lead to weight gain. This makes it easier for consumers to choose healthier products without feeling deprived.

Governments can also introduce sugar taxes, which have been shown to reduce sugar consumption in countries like Mexico and the UK (Lean, Garcia & Gill, 2018). Research reveals that by making sugary products more expensive, people tend to choose healthier alternatives, leading to better long-term health outcomes, such as lower obesity rates and fewer cases of type 2 diabetes (Lean, Garcia & Gill, 2018).

Promoting whole foods is another key strategy. A diet rich in fruits, vegetables, and whole grains naturally lowers sugar intake, while also providing essential vitamins, fiber, and antioxidants. Governments can encourage this by promoting policies that limit the availability of overly processed foods and make healthier options more accessible.

The overconsumption of refined sugar is a public health crisis with serious consequences. By combining better nutrition education, food reformulation, policy interventions, and promoting whole foods, we can reduce sugar intake and improve the health of future generations. Tackling this issue will require both individual action and broader societal shifts, but the benefits are clear: a healthier, longer life for all.

Bibliography

Lean, M.E., Garcia, A.L. and Gill, T., 2018. Sugar taxation: a good start but not the place to finish. The American journal of clinical nutrition, 108(3), pp.435-436.

Moreira, P.I., 2013. High-sugar diets, type 2 diabetes and Alzheimer's disease. Current Opinion in Clinical Nutrition & Metabolic Care, 16(4), pp.440-445.

Snow, H.L., 1948. Refined sugar: its use and misuse. The Improvement Era Magazine, 51

World Health Organization, 2024. Use of non-sugar sweeteners: WHO guideline summary. World Health Organization.