#i need aid for my concentration so i use a CONCENTRATION AID
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citriarchive · 11 months ago
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for me my meds are like my cane: i would like to not need them, but in my case they are objectively a net positive (i know this isn't the case for everyone) and i will use them because i want and deserve to feel better.
and honestly even then i've evolved with my personal feelings on my usage of both. gone from not wanting to use them at all ever to being thankful i have them when i need them.
it's a crutch in the same way a cane—or a fucking crutch—is a crutch. if you tell me not to use my cane when i know i need it because "i need to learn not to use it" as if I hadn't BEEN doing that, you're getting thwacked over the head with it.
there's a difference between advocating for not IMMEDIATELY overmedicating people (which is good, 100%, jumping immediately to especially high doses of or generally potent medications which could be dangerous for someone is a shitty practice) vs. shaming people for taking medication at all and some of y'all would do well to learn it.
“if you take medication for that, you’ll be taking medication all your life!!” yeah, and?? bud, i already put on my glasses every morning. it’s like. a condition of mine, not a side hobby i’m pursuing irresponsibly. 
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coquelicoq · 2 days ago
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watching cdramas with french subtitles is the best idea i ever had. if the show is in a language i don't speak i'm already going to have to be closely reading the subtitles, so why not also use it as language practice? the subs go by so fast i don't have time to translate them internally into english, i just have to absorb the meaning without doing that (which is how it's supposed to work but i've never been fully able to do that before). AND the best part is that when i'm going about my day i'm finding that some of my internal monologue is just in french now?? i think it's because subs are almost entirely dialogue...i'm getting hours of dialogue practice without actually having to converse. it's also fun with cdramas specifically because i have by now picked up some chinese vocabulary from watching tv and i get to see how that vocabulary is translated into french. idk man i'm just having a great time.
#i used to watch stuff in english with french subtitles but it's just not the same#maybe it would be more interesting now that i'm better at french but idk it didn't really do much for me#because i'd mostly be understanding via the english i was hearing and didn't have to rely on the french for much#but with chinese there are only like. 20 sentences you could say that i wouldn't need a translation for#anything other than that and i have to rely on the subtitles#so i have to comprehend the french or i won't know what's happening at all#the other great thing about this method of improving comprehension is you can rewind!!!#you can pause. you can repeat it if necessary. you can theoretically do that in real conversations but watch out#so like. when i'm just reading a novel i can read at any old pace. and in fact since i always read aloud i can only read at#the speed at which i can speak french. which is faster than it used to be but still not as fast as i can read silently#but reading subs forces you to read pretty fast. which is good practice. and then whenever you miss something you still have#the option to back up#my posts#french#subtitles#i always have subtitles on even when it's english subs for oral english#but in that case the subs are an aid and i'm mostly comprehending by listening#auditory processing is easier with hints lol#so it's usually possible for me to say chop vegetables or something while watching english-language media#because i'll just look up when i need help understanding something. but i'm not reading all the subs#not the case for a show in any other language. if i'm going to watch a show in chinese i have to sit down and concentrate#if i'm already concentrating and reading all the subs might as well make some progress
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enthusiasticharry · 6 months ago
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the one where YN is the governess for Harry's children, and they cannot hide their growing affection for each other.
author's note: part one of governess!yn (who is my lil angel baby). after the love on good omens, i finally got my mojo back and i'm back with another work! pls be kind and definitely let me know what you think (and what you would like to see in part 2!)
word count: 12.4k of mutual pining (but they just don't know it yet), friends to lovers, employer/employee relationships going out of the window and meddling modistes!
WARNINGS: death during childbirth, child abandonment, parent death, death of a spouse (you have been warned)
let me know what you think of daisies here! mwah <3
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YEAR ONE
“Noah!” YN called from where she sat on a picnic blanket on the house grounds, “Slow down, wait for your sister!”
“But Miss. YN,” The younger boy groaned, a second away from stomping his feet YN assumed, “She’s so slow.”
“Noah,” YN warned again with a tilt of her head, watching as the little boy stopped and waited for the even smaller girl behind him, “Thank you.”
YN loved her life.
Whilst YN had not had the easiest of upbringings in life, she had truly found her passion and calling in being a governess. The Styles household had not been the first family she had worked for – but they were her favourite. Noah, the six-year-old little boy, was bubbly, mischievous and had a penchant for teasing his younger sister made her life interesting every day. Honorah, who was just three years old was the complete opposite of her brother – quiet, sweet and the happiest little girl YN knew.
The family that YN had been with before were difficult to work with. There was an absent father and a mother who interfered with YN’s work too much for her liking so when Mr Styles asked her to come and work for his family – she did not even have to think about it. Mr Styles loved his children, but from what YN had heard – he had loved his wife too. Mrs. Styles had died during the birth of Honorah, and from what YN had experienced it had shaken the family.
YN had started working for the Styles about three months ago. Before, Mr. Styles had relied on his mother and his household staff to aid with the upbringing of his children. Unfortunately for them, his mother had been unable to continue helping in her old age and that was when they sought out help from YN.
“Miss. YN,” Honorah’s voice shook YN out of her daydream, “I picked this for you.”
“Thank you, Norah,” YN smiled, accepting the small daisy that the girl was holding out for her, “This is a lovely daisy.”
The girl sheepishly smiled, rocking on her feet slightly as she stood above the older woman. YN smiled, tapping the space on the blanket next to her for her to drop down.
“How about this…” YN smiled, pulling out some paper and pencils that she had packed in a basket and placing them in front of the girl, “I packed these for you, would you like to try and draw the daisy?”
Honorah nodded, accepting the paper and pencils from YN. The older woman watched with a smile on her face as the girl carefully placed the daisy down in front of her, her tongue slightly slipping out from her lips in concentration as she grabbed the pencil and started to sketch. In her peripheral vision, YN could see Noah chasing what looked to be a butterfly around some of the flowers in front of them.
YN loved the summer, and the Styles children did too it seemed. They had a perfectly good classroom spare in the house to use but when the weather was this lovely, YN saw no need to keep the children holed up within the four walls. They had completed spelling tests each earlier in the morning, and seeing as though it was a Friday, YN saw no need to overwork the children.
“Miss YN,” Noah screamed, running over to her with his hands clutched tightly in front of him, “I caught it!”
“You caught it?” YN’s eyes widened, trying to match the younger boy’s excitement, “What did you catch, Noah?”
“The butterfly I was chasing!” The younger boy’s words were followed by a giggle and a small shake of his shoulders, “It is tickling me.”
“That is probably because it is scared, Noah,” YN explained, placing the younger boy’s hands in hers, “Remember how small the butterfly is? Small enough to fit in your hand. Even though you are a little boy, you are big and scary to the butterfly.”
“Oh,” Noah’s face dropped, his shoulders dropping slightly, “I do not want to scare it.”
YN nodded, “Should we let it go?”
Noah nodded, accepting YN’s help when she cupped his hands and opened them and there was the butterfly. It immediately flew away from them, and Noah saw that as the opportunity to go chasing after it again, Honorah could not resist abandoning her drawing and running after her brother.
YN leant back on her hands lightly and watched as the scene unfolded in front of her. YN had come to terms with the fact that she would not have children of her own, and these two little ones filled that void. YN had been trained with people that she knew would not be the kindest of governesses and at most hated children and she swore she would never be like that. She had been dealt this life, but she was not going to let it change her.
“The last time he caught a bug it took us three hours to convince him to set it free,” YN jumped at the sound of Mr. Styles’ voice from the side of her, the man standing a few feet away from her with his hands in his pockets.
YN smiled, turning her attention back to the children, “I must admit I am surprised he gave it up so easily.”
Mr. Styles chuckled, his hand pointing to the blanket next to her, “May I join you?”
YN nodded, “Of course.”
She tried not to stare as he sat down. There was a decent amount of space between them, and whilst YN’s legs were curved to the side of her – Harry’s extended in front of him. YN would be lying if she said her employer was not attractive. Even with his mood which often reflected the tragedies he had experienced in his life – his features still stood out to YN. Mr. Styles was not shy about eye contact, and every time YN was under his gaze her heart fluttered – just as she was now.
YN looked out at the children who were now chasing each other around a tree, “They completed their spelling lessons an hour or so ago, and instead of keeping them indoors I thought this was a better way for them to spend their time.”
“I am in no position to criticise your methods, Miss YLN,” Mr. Styles nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips as he watched his son taunt his daughter from behind the tree, “If anything, this will ensure that bedtime goes smoothly.”
YN chuckled, watching as the children spotted their father and came bounding over to him. Noah immediately latched onto his father’s side, with Honorah wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Papa, did you see?” Noah’s beaming face almost shouted at his father, “I caught a butterfly! But I let it go because it was scared.”
“I did see, Noah,” Mr. Styles nodded, pulling down his son’s shirt that had rolled up at the back, “It was very nice of you to let it go.”
Noah nodded, obviously trying to suppress the smile on his face due to how his father was happy with him. Honorah, obviously feeling slightly left out of her father’s attention, picked up her half-finished daisy and passed it to him.
Even though YN knew the difficulties of making sure that each of the children had equal attention, Mr Styles did it so effortlessly. After YN’s first experience with a family, one in which she was sure that the father had no idea as to what his children’s names were – it was a lovely sight. He managed to ensure that each one of his children knew that they were loved, and he did everything he could to ensure that they did not feel the hole that the loss of their mother created.
“How about we go inside for supper?” Harry offered to the children, both of whom nodded their heads and scrambled to stand up.
YN took that as the opportunity to start packing up the things she had brought out with them and retire for the evening. Just as YN was about to fold up the blanket, Mr. Styles had already beaten her to it. He smiled at her as he offered the folded blanket to her, which she accepted with a nod of her head and placed it within the basket.
Just as she was about to turn and walk towards the house, Mr. Styles cleared his throat.
“Would you like to join us for supper?”
“Oh,” That stopped YN in her tracks immediately, “I… I should not…I would not want to intrude.”
“You would not be intruding,” Mr. Styles shook his head, “I am offering. There is no need for you to eat alone when you can dine with us.”
YN contemplated his words for a second or so before nodding with a small smile on her face, “Thank you.”
Walking side by side, the two adults followed the children as they ran ahead – a supper waiting inside for them.
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For the last three weeks, YN had not eaten alone.
To anyone else, that may have not seemed a fate that would be something to be concerned about – but it was strange. It had started with the supper after the day in the garden with the children and had then been followed by an invitation to breakfast the next day.
YN supposed that it had been for ease, and even more so to allow for her teachings of the children to continue into the rest of the day rather than just to the previous allotted times. The only issue that YN had found with the new arrangement was how YN was being affected by the newly increased amount of time she was spending with Mr. Styles.
Throughout the day YN did not see much of him (just like before) as he tended to retreat to his study to take care of the estate and any other issues that may be presented before him. During mealtimes, however, Mr. Styles now took his place to the left of her at the dining table.
Their conversations never strayed far from the weather, food or most likely the children. Whilst it was strange for YN to join them for these meals, there was a slight comfort that was now found between the two of them. YN never saw Harry converse with friends or leave the house late at night to engage with mistresses which had been a favourite pastime of the previous husband she worked for. A part of YN just assumed that maybe he was lonely, and a conversation with someone that was above the age of six was something that he wished for.
There was also a side of YN that missed the quiet that eating alone gave her. It allowed her time to pause and think. Whilst she loved her job, and she loved the children more than anything YN often wondered what her life would have been like if things were different.
Similarly to the Styles children, YN’s mother had died in childbirth. She had known nothing of her but that information. Her father, a gentleman from the city had remarried almost immediately and his new wife had wanted nothing to do with YN – so she had been abandoned at an orphanage. It was only due to her father’s lineage (even though she had not the faintest idea of who he was) that she had not been made to work, and instead had been trained to be a governess.
YN often wondered what would have happened if that was not the case, if she had not been abandoned in the way she had. She could have been married and had children of her own by now. At the age she was (eight and twenty) the only way in which she could even register the thought of getting married was to a businessman in the village, and yet she did not venture into the village long enough for that to even be a possibility. These thoughts would swirl around YN’s head, just as they were doing now, but then she would be reminded of how fulfilled she was in this role and none of these thoughts would matter.
Whilst YN would often brush these thoughts out of her head, there was a slight comfort in imaging what her life could have been.
YN sat on the steps outside of the residence, a cup filled with tea next to her and the light summer’s breeze a comfort to her. It was deep into the night, and there had not been movement in the house for a few hours and YN was at peace. Dressed in just her nightgown and shawl, the only comfort to her being the silence and the night sky – YN was happy. This time, whilst it had become few and far between recently was the time that she cherished.
“It is a lovely night.”
YN jumped out of her skin at the sound of Mr. Styles’ voice behind her, just as she had done in the garden a few weeks ago. With a hand pressed firmly on her chest in hopes of calming her heart rate down, she turned to look at the man.
“Mr. Styles,” YN gasped, her hand still clutching her chest, “I am afraid you quite terrified me.”
“I apologise,” He offers her a smile, “I heard footsteps earlier and I thought it was the children, but then I saw you sitting out here, and I am now assuming it was you.”
“I apologise,” YN was quick to insert, unable to hide her embarrassment at the situation, “I had no intention of disturbing you.”
“I am most certain you did not,” He pointed to the space on the step next to her, as though asking her permission to sit down and she nodded, watching as he dropped down next to her, “In fact, you were very quiet, it is just me who is a light sleeper. Since my wife…I became the one who had to listen out for the children.”
YN’s body froze when she heard Harry mention his wife. It had been Mr. Styles’ mother who had initially told her about the death of Mrs. Styles. YN had never heard Harry even mention her. She had not a single idea as to whether he spoke to the children about her. She assumed that whilst he may not speak about her now, he must at some point speak to them. YN knew what it was like to have not met a mother, and she knew the pain that it causes and would certainly not ever wish that upon anyone else – especially not those darling children.
“We had another eventful day in the garden today,” YN explained, “I attempted to teach the children how to play pall mall with the old set I found but we instead ended up with a game of cat and mouse – and I am therefore not surprised that they are worn out.”
Harry chuckled, “My family and I used to play pall mall when I was a boy. I had hoped that I would get around to teaching them, but I never had.”
YN’s eyes immediately widened, “I apologise if I overstepped Mr. Styles – I was merely attempting to make use of the day.”
“No, no do not apologise,” Mr. Styles shook his head, “I heard their joyful glees earlier in the day – I would allow for anything to continue to hear those sounds.”
YN wrapped her arms around her knees, bringing them closer to her chest, “I know that I have given you this information before, but you do have two beautiful children, Mr. Styles.”
Mr Styles’ face beamed a smile, as though he was proud to be hearing such information. If YN had heard this information about her children she would not have been prouder to be a parent. Mr. Styles’ face reflected that.
“I wish I could take all of the credit but indeed I cannot,” Mr. Styles sighed, a hand running over his face, “Norah, is, well… she is exactly like her namesake. My wife was sweet, gentle, and kind. She was inquisitive, just as Noah is. Unfortunately for him, he may have inherited my unfortunate mischievous side which I had as a child.”
YN chuckled slightly before offering him a small smile, “It must be lovely to see her in them. To know that she is still here, in them.”
Mr. Styles hesitated. YN’s heart dropped, the fear that she had overstepped coursing through her veins.
“Mr. Styles, I apologise,” YN’s chest started to rise up and down, this time from the nerves rather than being scared, “I completely overstepped. I did not mean to offend you.”
Mr. Styles shook his head, “You did not, and please forget the formalities – call me Harry.”
YN nodded, “I am still sorry if I offended you, Harry.”
“You did not, YN, I can promise you that,” Harry offered her a smile which settled any of the woman that might have still harboured, “In truth, you are correct. Whilst she is no longer with us, I see her face every day. I see the aspects of her that I fell in love with day after day. Whilst it does not fill the hole of what we have lost, it offers a sense of comfort that I am more appreciative of than words could ever explain.”
A comfortable silence loomed over the two of them, the words that had just been spoken dancing around them, invading their thoughts. It was at this point that YN felt her sense of loss wash over her.
“I, uh, well…” YN offered Harry a sad smile, “My mother died giving birth to me too. I do not wish to bore you with the details, but I did not have a father looking out and loving me in the way that you do. Your children will be grateful in the future for that – I promise you.”
Harry nodded, “I am ever so sorry for your loss, YN.”
YN shrugged, “It was a long time ago now, Harry. Whilst I do not advocate the idea that wounds heal with time, I suppose that the effects of such become easier to deal with.”
“I tell them stories of her every night,” Harry offers her a small smile, “I will not allow them to forget her.”
“Then that is all that you can do.”
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YEAR TWO
“I do so wish that I could dress you proper, Miss YN,” Miss Francis, the modiste, spoke as she continued to pin the dress on YN’s body.
YN chuckled, “I do not need them, Miss Francis. It would be a waste of an expense.”
The older lady sighed, continuing to pin the length on YN’s new-day dress. It was in a delightful lilac, trimmed with lace that around the cuffs and soon to be the hem.
“But you would look so gorgeous adorned in the latest fashions,” YN sighed but allowed Miss Francis to continue, “I do not know if you have heard, but Mr Jacobs’ son is looking for a wife.”
YN sighed and shook her head, “You know that I do not entertain myself with the idle gossip of the village.”
“Well, I for one believe you should,” Miss Francis stood up, her eyes focusing directly on YN, “You have done your duty as a governess, and I am sure the Styles’ are nothing but grateful for your service but there is a time where one must think for themself.”
YN shook her head, not allowing her words to infiltrate her mind at all, “I would never betray my role. Those children need me… Mr. Styles –”
“Mr Styles can find another governess at the drop of a hat,” Miss Francis sighed, “I am sure that if an advertisement went out today there would be a line from here to London hoping for the role.”
YN scoffed and shook her head, “We both know that is an exaggeration.”
“From here to Manchester, then,” Miss Francis corrected.
YN sighed and stepped off the podium, allowing Miss Francis to help her remove the dress on her body and return to the gown she had arrived in. Today the children had gone with Mr Styles to his mother’s house, something that they did every so often and allowed for YN to have a day just to herself. It was a rarity, and in some parts, YN was thankful to receive these days but sometimes she truly did just miss the children. She would also be lying if she said that she did not miss Harry.
In the last year that she had worked for him, she would say that their relationship grew to what YN would deem as a friendship, to more than just an employer-employee relationship. That in itself was something she cherished alongside the life that he had given her. They still ate meals together with the children, and more often than not in their alone time she would find herself in his company. Even if the room was quiet – they would be together.
To anyone looking in, their situation would seem strange. In all honesty – it was. But no matter how strange the situation, YN would not change it for the world.
“I am happy just the way I am, Miss Francis,” YN smiled at the woman, “I do not need to change anything.”
The older lady just scoffed, “Well, if you are ever to change your mind I would be happy to arrange a meeting.”
YN just shook her head, “I promise that shall never be the case.”
It was at this point that YN could tell that the older woman was slightly annoyed with her, “I shall send your gown to the Styles residence when it is ready.”
“Thank you, Miss Francis,” YN smiled, “Do not be too angry with me.”
“I am not,” Miss Francis shook her head, “I just wish that one day you realise your full potential, my dear.”
YN left the modiste with her brain spinning with the words that Miss Francis had said. It was not that she was taking account of anything that Miss Francis said about marriage because she knew that was not on the cards for YN. She had made her peace with that a long time ago. It was more so that YN was struggling to decipher what the older woman meant by saying that she had not met her full potential.
All of her life, YN knew that her only job in life was going to be a governess. The orphanage had made that very clear to her, and fortunately for YN – it was also something that she enjoyed. That was her potential. That was the start of it, and that was the end of it. There was nothing else that anyone could say to change that.
It began the age-old question discussion again. It started YN’s spiral as to when she would think about what life could have been like if certain things were different. Then, no matter how much she would imagine what her life could have been like – she always circles back to right now and how this was where she wanted to be.
Sighing, YN stepped out from the side of the building and onto the road in hopes of crossing it and continuing her journey home. Just as she was about to step out, a hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back by the side of the building. It was just as she had been pulled back that a carriage went riding past her, too fast for the speed of a normal carriage.
It was only then that YN realised that whoever the person was who had pulled her out of the way of the carriage had pretty much just saved her life.
“Oh,” YN sighed, her hand lifting to rest again on her chest – her heart rate rising once more.
“Are you okay, miss?” The saviour asked, his hand reaching out to touch her arm.
For the first time, YN’s eyes turn to meet the man and they widen. He was tall, and the only word that YN would have to describe him would be rugged. But in between all of that ruggedness, he was handsome, and YN was not ashamed to admit that.
“I am fine,” YN offered him a small smile, “I… Thank you for that. I fear I was not paying much attention to my surroundings.”
“I gathered that,” YN’s eyebrows furrowed at him, “From the way you ignored my calls for you to stop.”
“I, uh, I did not hear you,” YN chuckles, “I was just…”
“Not paying much attention,” He chuckles.
It was then that YN realised that her hands were shaking. In the adrenaline of it all, she supposed that her near-death experience was finally catching up with her body.
“I… I, uh, thank you for… saving me,” YN nodded, pointing across the road, “But I must be getting home.”
“Allow me to fetch a carriage for you, miss?” YN shook her head at the gentleman’s offer.
“No, I cannot, but thank you,” YN gave him a small smile, “I would very much prefer to walk.”
“Then allow me to escort you,” The man continued to press, obviously not wanting to take her no for an answer, “Just to ensure you are out of the path of any other carriages.”
YN chuckled but again shook her head, “Sir, even if I was to say yes I know better than to accept offers from strangers.”
The man offered her a smile, “Well, that is an issue that is immediately fixable – Mr Jacobs, it is lovely to make your acquaintance Miss…”
“…YLN,” YN chuckles, realising by the second that this man was insanely stubborn, “But I assure you, Mr Jacobs, I am perfectly capable of walking myself home.”
“Well, Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs presses, “How about instead of me walking you home it turns out that the two of us are just walking in the same direction.”
YN tilts her head at the man, “I fear that may be worse.”
“Yes,” The man laughs, unable to stop himself, “I knew that the minute I said so.”
There must have been something that made it so that once Miss Francis had mentioned this man to her she would meet him. YN would not say that she believed in fate, but this was certainly an odd coincidence.
“Whilst I am not saying yes to your offer,” YN started, offering the man a small smile, “I suppose I cannot stop you from joining me if you do so wish, Mr Jacobs.”
“Very well,” He opened his arm out in the direction she had been walking in, “After you, miss.”
YN makes it obvious that she double-checks whether or not any carriages are coming down the road before she attempts to cross it. Her heart has calmed down, as well as the shaking in her hands but in all honesty she would rather curl up with a book and relax.
“Seeing as though we are walking in the same direction, would it be improper of me to ask you a question or two?” Mr Jacobs prompted from the side of her.
“I would say that I owe you as much,” YN sighed, offering him a small smile, “Seeing as though I could have been in a very different situation if it was not for you.”
Mr Jacobs laughs, “Yes, I must admit saving one from a carriage is a much better play.”
YN shrugged, “Ask away.”
YN was surprised. The conversation, barring the near-death experience, seemed to flow with ease. More often than not, YN found herself laughing. Whilst she loved the conversations that she had with Harry, and she would say that he was her best friend within this world – it was nice to converse with someone who did not necessarily know her.
Whilst it had been nice (as it always is) to play make-believe for a little while, she knew that the second the turn-off for the Styles estate came into view she would have to return to her reality.
YN stopped just at the turning, and Mr Jacobs had not anticipated this as he continued to walk. She cleared her throat, and that was when he stopped and turned around – his eyebrows furrowing at her stopped movements.
“This is me,” She pointed down the road.
He pointed down the road, “The Styles estate?”
“Yes,” YN nodded, lifting her hand to brush her hair out of her face, “I… I am their governess. I work with the Styles children.”
“Oh,” Mr Jacobs seemed to relax slightly, “An honest profession, I must say.”
YN just smiled, “I do appreciate you walking with me, and also not allowing the carriage to run me over.”
Mr Jacobs shook his head, “Do not mention it – I would do it over again if you needed.”
YN opened her mouth but shut it again almost immediately. YN just decided to offer him a smile instead.
“Well, thank you again,” YN pointed down the path, “I must go but I hope you have a good rest of your day.”
Mr Jacobs nodded, “As I wish you do too,” YN turned and started to walk down the path when his voice called out again, “Stay out of the way of any carriages!”
YN could not help the chuckle that left her lips at his words.
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The second that YN had returned to the house she had dropped down in the drawing room and stayed there. The house was still silent, letting YN know that neither the children nor Mr Styles were back at the house, and surprisingly to her YN was thankful for that.
Near-death experience aside, YN had enjoyed herself. It was always a pleasure to see Miss Francis (even though she enjoyed meddling more than anything) but the real shock of the day had been her walk and subsequent conversation with Mr Jacobs.
The issue that YN found herself in was that the bridge between her thoughts and her reality had started to merge. From one conversation YN could not presume that she was going to marry the man and she was certainly in no place to do that – but she could not say that the prospect was not there.
YN could have been sat there for an hour, or maybe even five by the time that she was knocked out of her daydreaming. She had not even heard Harry walk into the room and it was only when he moved to stand in front of her was when she realised that he had returned.
“I have been looking for you everywhere,” He sighed, dropping down on the settee just next to her, “Did you not hear me calling your name?”
“I seem to be doing that a lot lately,” YN sighed, offering him a small smile but saying no more.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the state that she was now in which was very different from the one that he had left her in this morning.
“That was not ominous at all,” Harry stated as though it was the most obvious thing, but YN seemed to be paying no attention, “Are you going to give me an explanation at all?”
“I was nearly hit by a carriage today.”
“What?” Harry’s eyes widened, his body immediately leaning towards her, “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“No, no I’m fine,” YN shook her head, leaning back on the seat she was on, “I am just…”
YN’s sentence trailed off and then she did not say a single thing. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed again, and he decided then that he did not believe her, “Are you sure you were not injured? You did not bang your head or anything?”
“Harry, I did not hit my head!” The exclaimed rather loud, earning a laugh from Harry from across the room, “I am perfectly okay.”
The silence washed over them again. YN’s eyes continued looking forward, out of the window and to where the trees were slightly swaying in the breeze. She could hear the children squealing throughout the rest of the house, and she was reminded that they were probably happy from spending the day with their grandmother.
“How was your day?” YN asked, still not looking away from the window, “How did the children enjoy it?”  
“They loved it, as they always do,” Harry shrugged off their questioning, “But, and promise me you will not be angry with me –”
“Harry, we both know that if you start a sentence with that I am probably going to be angry with you.”
“I know this but still, I have to ask,” Harry sighed, “Are you positive you are okay?”
YN went silent, her hands messing with a loose thread of fabric on her dress. Harry looked at her, still unable to figure out why on earth she was acting so strangely.
“Do you ever think of marriage?”
Harry’s mouth opened once, before shutting again. He then sighed, and then the realisation of what had been said washed over her and her eyes found his.
“Harry, I am so sorry,” YN shook her head, completely unable to understand why on earth she would have said that, “I should not have said that, God, I do not understand why I said it.”
“No,” Harry shook his head, “I must admit I was a little shocked but do not apologise. My mother had a lot to say about marriage earlier today.”
“She did?”
Harry nods with a slight shrug of his shoulders, “She just mentioned how beneficial it would be for Noah and Norah if they had a mother in their lives. And when I say mentioned, I mean brought up every other sentence.”
YN chuckled. She would be lying if she said she did not love Harry’s mother. She was lovely, and just a ray of sunshine. Whilst she had not experienced having a mother in her life, she did have some idea as to what it would have been like to have a meddling mother. She also had the experiences with Miss Francis, and she gathered that it must have been something like that.
“So, you have considered it?” YN asked, her fingers still pulling on the thread of her dress.
“No, I would not say that,” Harry shook his head, “I would not say consider, but rather had the idea in my head for a few seconds before removing it altogether.”
YN laughed, “I honestly do not blame you for such.”
“Have you…” Harry’s eyes found her, “Thought about it?”
“I do, sometimes,” YN shrugs her shoulders, “I would not say very often but sometimes I find myself doing the same as you. I think about it, and then I remove it from my brain.”
YN laughs, but Harry does not join her. Once she realises her laughter drowns out, she finds herself under his gaze. She should not be so surprised that someone she has lived with for almost two years now knows her so well, but it still shocked her. Just as it had done earlier on in the day, YN found herself unable to stop the increasing of her heart rate. It was silly. He had not even said anything to her, and yet she was completely and utterly a mess under his gaze. It should not be like this, and yet it was.
“It is not unnatural to think about marriage, YN,” Harry says, and YN can tell that every single word he was saying was sincere and he believed true, “Whilst as your employer I should be saying to you not to marry because my children and I… they need you, I cannot in good conscience say that. If marriage is what you wish – then nothing should stop you from doing so. As your friend, I would even go as far as to say that any deserving man would be lucky to have you as his wife.”
YN was silent, taking in his words with nothing but shock swirling around her head. To hear him say those words, as well as the look his face held whilst he said them shook YN to her core.
“Harry I…” YN shook her head, attempting to not focus on the tears that were starting to collect in her waterline and more so on her breathing.
Harry cleared his throat, attempting to mask the awkwardness that now loomed over them, “I apologise if I spoke out of turn, YN.”
“No, you did not,” YN shook her head, “And I appreciate everything you have said, Harry, I truly do but… today must have just been a lapse in my judgement. I would be lying if I said that I am not happy here because I truly am.”
YN’s face could not help the smile that crossed her features at the sight of the one across Harry’s lips.
“I truly do not believe that I could have asked for a better life, and you are the one I have to thank for that.”
Harry just nodded, “Whilst as your employer I am more than happy to hear those words, as your friend I am just delighted that I have managed to help you in this way.”
YN smiled, finally feeling as though whatever mood she had found herself in after today had been brushed off. She stood up, her eyes catching Harry’s as she motioned her head towards the door.
“Let us go find your children and get them ready for bed before they terrorise the rest of the staff.”
Harry laughs and stands up, following YN out of the room and towards the sound of children’s laughter down the hall.
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YEAR THREE
“Noah, it is not appropriate to throw food at your sister,” YN warned from her seat next to Harry.
The little boy did not seem to care about her warnings and continued to load grapes onto his spoon and launch them at his sister.
“Noah,” Harry was the one to warn the little boy this time, “Pass me the spoon?”
Harry held his hand out for the spoon. Noah continued to hold the spoon, his eyes darting between his father and the grapes set out in front of him. Harry just raised his eyebrow at his son who sighed and placed the spoon in his father’s hand. YN watched as the boy picked up the grape and without his spoon launched it at his sister.
“That is it, Noah,” Harry shook his head, “If you carry on with this behaviour you will be staying here instead of going to your Grandmother’s house tomorrow.”
That was all that the little boy needed to drop the grape that he had picked up and sit up straight in his seat. YN pursed her lips in hopes of suppressing the giggle that was attempting to escape her lips at the child’s antics.
“How about the two of you go to the classroom and wait for Miss. YN?” Harry asked, a smile present on his lips, “I just need to have a quick word.”
YN nodded, wiping her hands on her napkin, and placing it on the table next to her plate. YN watched with a smile as the children started a race upstairs to the classroom. YN knew that they were going to be a handful today as they always were when they were going to see their grandmother. It was as though the excitement of waiting for tomorrow was too much for them.
“Is something the matter?” YN asked, taking a sip of her tea.
“I had a question to ask you,” Harry started, “It is about tomorrow.”
“Oh,” YN smiled, “Do you mean your birthday? Something about your birthday?”
Harry sighed, shaking his head and the girl giggled. YN knew that Harry did not enjoy his birthday and that made it ever so easy to tease him.
“It is unfortunately something about my birthday,” Harry sighed, “Even though I am not supposed to know, I do know that my mother is throwing a ball for my birthday tomorrow night. She has tried to for the past few years, and I asked her to wait, and she has.”
“That should be lovely,” YN smiled, “I have heard from others how enjoyable your mother’s balls are. I hope you have a lovely time, no matter how much you hate it.”
Harry shook his head, knowing that he would be unable to stop the girl’s teasing, “I was wondering whether you wanted to join me? At the ball?”
YN’s eyes widen. That was certainly not what she was expecting him to say. YN thought that she would do what she normally does when Harry and the children go to his mother’s house which was have a day to herself. She honestly would never have thought would be what he was going to say to her, and yet here he was asking her this.
“Harry I…” YN shook her head, “I… even if I did, I do not have anything to wear.”
“That is an easy rectifiable issue,” Harry sighed with a smile on her face, “I will take the children for a few hours this afternoon so that you can go and see Miss Francis.”
“I do not… how will she even manage to…”
Harry shook his head, “Please stop your worrying, there is no need for it. Do not worry about the cost or the timing for I am sure that Miss Francis will be happy to do this for you to attend the ball.”
YN just shook her head, “I shall be so out of place, Harry.”
Harry placed his hand on the table, leaning forward to offer a comforting look, “No you will not. You will be with me, and I am positive some of your acquaintances from the village shall be there. And even if they are not, it is my birthday, and you are my best friend, and I will not go unless you are there.”
YN sighed and shook her head, “You will upset your mother by doing that.”
“You will upset me by not coming,” Harry retorts quickly.
YN sighs, and nods her head, “Will you send word to Miss Francis that I shall be coming to see her later?”
Harry beams a smile at his friend and nods, “I will do so immediately.”
A few hours later YN was standing in front of Miss Francis with an already complete dress on her body. YN was shocked, and confused as to why there was an already complete garment ready for her but then she remembered Miss Francis’ penchant for meddling and the fact that Harry knew that she would not have been able to say no to him.
“When Mr Styles sent word of the ball a few weeks or so ago, I knew that this fabric would be perfect for you,” Miss Francis explained as she pinned the hem of the dress for the girl.
YN’s mouth opened in shock as the older woman’s words registered in YN’s head, “I saw you just a week ago to alter my winter dresses and you made no mention of the ball.”
The older woman’s face broke out in a smile, “Mr Styles wished for it to remain a secret and who am I not to oblige?”
Even though YN was pretending to be annoyed with the woman, she was sort of pleased that she had only been told about the ball the day before. Whilst the children had known they had been going to their grandmother's for the last few weeks and each day they had become more and more excited, YN would not have experienced that. If YN had found out about the ball at any time before today, she knew that she would have convinced herself not to go. Finding out so late and knowing that a dress had already been made for her – there was no way that she could convince herself not to do so.
“This gown is truly beautiful, Miss Francis,” YN smiled, “You truly have outdone yourself.”
“I have said to you all along my dear, if you allowed me to dress you in the latest fashions you could have suitors lining outside the door.”
YN sighed and shook her head. Since YN’s conversation with Harry last year after her near-death experience with a carriage, she had not even thought about marriage. When she had said that she was happy during that conversation – she had truly meant it. She was happy in her current situation, and she would not change it for the world.
But, seeing herself in this dress she would be completely and utterly lying to herself if the thought had not crossed her mind one more time. This could have been her life if things were different – these outfits, and balls could have been her day-to-day life. But, there were balls, and these dresses were now her day-to-day in this life and to her that meant everything.
“I must admit, Miss Francis, I am completely out of my depth with this entire thing.”
Miss Francis just shook her head, “Do not worry, my dear. There is no pressure on you, at all. At most, you will have a few drinks, some sweet, possibly a dance if you are lucky and that is it.”
YN sighed with a chuckle, “Goodness, I have not danced in years.”
Miss Francis placed a comforting hand on YN’s arm, “As long as you do not stand on your partners’ feet, I believe you shall be okay.”
“That is easier said than done, Miss Francis.”
The older woman aided YN out of the gown and into her previous outfit so that she could make the last amendments to her gown.
“If I were you, every time that you find yourself nervous, or without somebody to talk to I would just remind yourself of why you are there – because Mr Styles is your friend, and he wishes you there.”
YN reached out to grab Miss Francis’ hand and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you. If anything, I am lucky that you are my friend.”
Miss Francis held up her finger as if to delay that thought for a second and moved into the back room. She came out with a wooden box in hand, unlocked the clasp and passed it to YN.
“This belonged to my mother. It was a family heirloom of sorts,” Miss Francis explained, “I always thought that I would pass it to my children, but that never came to be. I wish for you to have them, and to wear them tomorrow.”
YN gasped as she opened the box, placing her hand on her chest as she peered at the matching diamond necklace and earrings that were inside. YN had seen the jewellery that many members of society wore, and whilst this was not like that – YN preferred it more. The earrings were modest, with a tiny diamond falling from a gold stud and the necklace matched. It was beautiful, and it was timeless.
“Miss Francis, I do not know what to say,” YN shook her head, “I cannot accept this.”
“You can, and you will,” The older woman nodded, “You are the closest thing that I have to a daughter in this world, and this is your first ball, and you deserve to show yourself off.”
YN chuckled through the tears that were collecting in her waterline, shut the box containing the jewels and wrapped her arms around the older lady. Miss Francis laughed in obvious shock at the girl’s antics.
“I do not know how to thank you,” YN muttered into the woman’s shoulder.
“Do not thank me,” Miss Francis shook her head, “Just promise me that you will have a good time and enjoy yourself.”
“I promise,” YN nodded.
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YN had never felt more out of place in her entire life.
She knew that the way that she had grown up was different to those in society, but being surrounded by them in the way she was truly allowed YN to realise how much of that was true.
YN did not even know where to begin.
That was how she ended up standing, hovering by the wall as people mingled and danced around her. She had arrived with Harry earlier in the day but had left the family alone to celebrate with each other. Once she had joined the festivities of the ball, she still had not seen the birthday boy. Of course, he could have been anywhere in this room and YN would have missed him entirely due to the amount of people there.
With a sigh, YN’s eyes fluttered around the room until she spotted Harry and his mother walking into the room. YN would be lying if she said that the smile adorned on his face did not cause a matching one on hers. He truly did look happy. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks were red, and YN wondered whether or not he had some liquid courage before joining the party. YN could not blame him and chuckled to herself at the thought.
“Miss YLN,” YN jumped out of her skin slightly at the sound of a voice next to her, but relaxed when she saw that it was only Mr Jacobs, “Is something amusing you?”
“Oh, no,” YN shook her head with a small shrug, “Just an amusing thought, that is all.”
Mr Jacobs just hummed, “I must admit, it is nice to see you. When I received the invitation for the evening I did wonder whether or not you were going to make an appearance, and I am happy that you did.”
YN just smiled, dropping her head slightly. She had not seen Mr Jacobs (or thought about him at that) since the almost fatal carriage incident day. It amused YN to no end that had not been the case for Mr Jacobs, and he had thought about her. Maybe she left more of an impression on people than she had thought.
Mr Jacobs looked around the room and cleared his throat, “How are you enjoying yourself so far?”
YN chuckled again, “I would be withholding the truth if I did not say I am slightly overwhelmed, but, I must admit there has been a lovely turnout to celebrate Mr Styles’ birthday.”
Mr Jacobs just hummed again, “That itself is not surprising.”
YN’s eyebrows furrowed in the man’s direction, “And why would that be?”
Mr Jacobs lifted the glass he held in his hand up to his lips and shrugged, “I heard that Mrs Styles extended invitations to every eligible lady in the county, as well as a few from London, seeing as though Mr Styles wishes to take a wife.”
YN nearly choked on her spit at his words but attempted to cover it up in hopes of not raising any questions. This was the first that she had heard of this subject. The last time that she and Harry had conversed on this subject he had made it painfully aware that he was not thinking at all of marriage. Of course, that conversation had been almost a year ago and his intentions could have changed since then. The only question that floated around in YN’s brain was – if so, why had he not said anything to her?
“Oh,” YN faked a laugh, “Well that does make sense. If Mr Styles wants to marry again, he should ensure that he makes the correct choice.”
Mr Jacobs’ eyebrows furrow, “You did not know that he was looking for another bride?”
YN lightly shook her head, “I am not shocked, though. I am only his governess, he does not have to discuss such important, personal matters with me.”
“I just thought that since you had been invited to the ball perhaps you were friends,” Mr Jacobs pressed, confusing YN slightly.
“To a degree, yes,” YN nodded, “But not to the degree of discussing these matters, I suppose.”
Mr Jacobs nodded, finished his drink, and placed his glass down on the table behind them. YN had hoped by that point their conversation would be over, and she could go back to watching the room – but that was not to be the case. YN was admittingly shocked when Mr Jacobs extended his hand out before her.
“Miss YLN,” He spoke, a small smile etching across his features, “Would you do me the honour of joining me in the next dance?”
“Oh,” YN shook her head, “Thank you, Mr Jacobs but I will have to politely refuse – I have not danced since I was a child.”
“Well,” Mr Jacobs shrugged, “To me, it seems there is no time like the present to start again.”
YN watched from over his shoulder as other couples began to migrate to the dancefloor. Exhaling a nervous breath, YN nodded and placed her hand into Mr Jacobs’. He led her towards the dancefloor, and they somehow ended up directly in the middle. Her eyes fluttered to the left and the right of her before they settled directly in front. Mr Jacobs offered her a smile, and that was seemingly all it took for her nerves to dissipate almost completely.
The music started, and they danced.
What YN could not see as she moved around the room, her hand tightly placed in Mr Jacobs was the two eyes watching her from across the room. Harry had been speaking to one of the many ladies that his mother had invited without his knowledge (he will remember this for next time) when he saw them. There was not a possible way that he could have missed her. When he had instructed Miss Francis to make her a dress, he knew that the older woman would succeed at making it beautiful but the only word that seemed to stand out in his head was breathtaking.
Harry tried to listen to the conversation he was in, but he could not. The only thing he could pay attention to was how she floated around the dance floor. She was smiling, an indication to him that she was enjoying herself. At one point he even saw her share a laugh with Mr Jacobs, a man that Harry knew of but not very well. A wave of longing washed over him, a longing for that to have been him.
“Mr Styles!” A voice called from the side of him, “Mr Styles?”
“Hmm?” He hummed, turning back to the lady who had grown impatient at the expense of his distraction, which was now finishing thankfully.
“I asked whether or not you enjoyed dancing?”
Harry’s eyes caught YN walking over towards the refreshment table, alone, and he saw this as his opportunity. He excused himself from the lady, who stood there in shock and watched as he walked away. Harry made a beeline for the refreshment table, ignoring any calls of his name the entire way there.
YN had just picked up a glass to take a sip when she felt someone beside her. She turned, saw that it was Harry and smiled – only for that smile to drop when she saw the expression on his face. The once smiley Mr Styles had been replaced with a look of sadness. It concerned YN to no end.
“Harry?” She dropped the drink back down on the table, “Is everything okay?”
He sighed, “I require some air. Would you care to join me?”
YN just nodded, knowing that he was probably wanting to talk to her more than have some air. Saying that, the room was quite stuffy with the amount of bodies occupying it so she would not be shocked. She followed him through the house until they could slip out of the back door. There was a chill in the air, seeing as though it was February, but that was not the important thing right now.
YN stood by the door, hoping to guard herself from the child slightly as she watched Harry pace in front of her. With each step, she grew more concerned for the man.
“You are worrying me now, Harry,” She started, her voice turning to a slight plead, “Would you please tell me what is wrong?”
Harry sighed and stopped his pacing before turning and walking so he was standing just a few feet from the girl.
“If you wish to marry Mr Jacobs then you should do so.”
YN feels as though all of the air has been sucked out of her body. Her heart begins to beat uncontrollably – the only sound she can hear is her heartbeat throughout her body. Out of everything that she thought he was going to say, that had certainly not been it. She could not even imagine why it had made him act in this way.
“Harry, I…” YN shook her head, unable to hold back her laugh, “That is… I had not even… I only danced with the man Harry.”
Harry shook his head, “I need you to know that if you wish to marry him, then you should.”
YN laughed again, “Harry you are being preposterous! You cannot just go around saying things such as that! But, seeing as though you have said such things, I would like to reiterate all of the information which you already know – I am happy just as I am, with you and with the children.”
Harry sighs, “You do not have to lie to me, YN. I can take the truth.”
“By this display of emotions Harry I find that very hard to believe,” She shakes her head once more, “And even so, I am not lying to you. I merely offered a dance, and I accepted and whilst I do not have the most experience with balls – I have gathered that this is something that usually happens at them!”
Harry’s eyes narrowed at YN once more, and that is when she noticed that his chest was heaving just as much as hers was. The more that they were standing staring at each other, the more confused YN became. That all came to a head when Harry turned and walked away from her, walking into the house without a single second look at her.
YN watched him as he walked away, and she was overwhelmed with the want to cry. She took a deep breath, lifting her hand to rest a hand on her chest in an attempt to calm her breathing. YN took a few steps away from the house so that she could rest against the wall surrounding the steps, the chill in the air the last of the worries.
YN sighed, lifting her hand to her forehead in hopes that would help regain even an ounce of or so of calm again. It was no use though as all she could think about was Harry, and what was the reason behind his sudden outburst of emotion.
“Oh, Miss YLN,” YN lifted her head at the sound of her name, “Are you quite alright?”
There was a part of YN that wanted to groan slightly at the fact that Mr Jacobs had somehow found her even admits the festivities. Instead of groaning, however, YN, found herself offering him a smile.
“I am fine,” She nodded, “Just needed a breath of fresh air.”
Mr Jacobs nodded, approaching where she was sitting on the wall. She did feel bad for the man, seeing as though he was the cause of so much turmoil and yet he had no idea of it. At the end of the day, Mr Jacobs had technically done nothing wrong, and she could not blame the man for something that was between herself and Harry.
He dropped down on the wall with an adequate space next to her and ran his hands over his trousers, “I did wish to ask you something after our dance, before I realised you had disappeared.”
YN just nodded, “Of course, Mr Jacobs.”
“I do not wish for you to read too far into this, Miss YLN, but I do enjoy your company,” Mr Jacobs started, “And, even though I had wanted to do this the last time I saw you I knew it would be inappropriate, but now I do not think the same.”
“Mr Jacobs, you do not have to justify yourself to me,” YN offered him a small smile, “Please, ask whatever it is you would like.”
Mr Jacobs nodded, “Would you care to join me for a promenade tomorrow?”
For the second time in a short period, YN found herself short of breath. She could not believe how these declarations were coming one after the other.
YN knew that if she lingered on the thought too much she would lose herself or talk herself out of it. She supposed, in deciding for herself for once she nodded her head at Mr Jacobs.
“I would very much like that.”
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YEAR FOUR
“Do you think Father is scared of bees, Miss YN?” Noah asked, holding YN’s hand as they walked back towards the house.
YN shrugged her shoulders slightly, “I do not know, Noah, you should ask him yourself.”
The little boy nodded, “I do not wish for them to sting me, but I would not say that I am scared of them – not like Norah is.”
The little girl’s head perked up at the sound of her name, “I am not afraid! I just do not like them very much.”
YN chuckled at the discussion between the small children. They both pulled away from YN once they reached the steps to the house, turning it into a race just as they did with everything. Sighing, YN followed them up the steps slightly slower than they had done. Once she stepped inside the house, she saw both children standing in the doorway of the sitting room with shocked expressions on their faces.
“What is it?” YN questioned, turning to look at what both of the children were staring at. She stopped in her tracks at what it was.
Sitting on the settee was both Harry and Mr Jacobs. YN could not figure out the expression that Harry’s face held, but she could see that Mr Jacobs seemed to be one of happiness. YN placed a hand on the back of the children’s shoulders.
“Why don’t you both get yourself cleaned up for supper?” She smiled, ushering the children out of the room before she stepped inside.
YN stayed standing up just by the door as she watched the uncomfortable air that seemed to be passing between the two men. In all honesty, YN believed that this was probably the first time that they had met properly. They had both been a topic of conversations with YN but had never spoken directly. It caused YN’s stomach to twist. 
YN had agreed to meet Mr Jacobs the day after the ball mainly to spite Harry, and the words that he had shared with her just a few moments before. What she had been surprised by was the amount she had enjoyed herself. Their walks had been few and far between over the past year or so, as YN would not have let herself forget the real reason she was there in the first place – and that was the children. She could tell that Mr Jacobs had wished for more, but she was unable to give him that. In all honesty, she did not know whether she wanted to give him that.
She had not expected him to show up at her house, though.
“Mr Jacobs,” YN greeted with a small smile, “It is lovely to see you.”
“As it is for you, Miss YLN.”
YN’s eyes flickered between Harry and Mr Jacobs, “May I ask the reason for your visit?”
Harry cleared his throat and stood up, looking at YN with an unreadable expression on his face, “He is here to ask you a question, YN. Or really, to ask me whether it is agreeable for me if he was to ask for your hand in marriage.”
YN gasped. Out of everything that Harry could have said, she had not expected that. Whilst it had shocked her, there was another feeling present that YN couldn’t quite put her finger on.
With a slight drop of her head she looked towards Harry, “Mr Styles, would you mind leaving the room?”
The second YN said those words, she regretted it. The expression on Harry’s face had gone from unreadable to pained, and she knew that she was the cause of this. She hoped that he would not let himself get too worked up over this. Whilst YN had no idea as to how this would play out, she had hoped that Harry would have a little more faith in her than to just abandon him in this way.
With a nod, Harry nodded and walked past her to leave the room. The door shut behind him, and she was finally alone with Mr Jacobs. That was when she realised the other emotion that was swirling within her – it was anger.
“Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs stood up, “I had hoped that I would be able to…”
YN shook her head and held her hand out so that he knew not to take a step closer to her, “I do not want to hear it, Mr Jacobs.”
He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowing at her words, “Miss YLN, if I have done something to offend you –”
“You have,” YN nodded, unable to hold back her anger, “You have offended me, Mr Jacobs. You have offended me by coming to my place of employment to ask for my hand in marriage instead of coming to me.”
“You have avoided me for weeks, Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs responds, his tone turning stern, “Of course, I had wished to speak to you first, but I was unable to do so.”
“So you thought your best course of action was to show up here and what?” YN sighed, laughing slightly at the absurdness of the entire situation, “Ask Harry for my hand in marriage?”
“I only wished to ask…” Mr Jacobs stopped in his tracks, his expression changing once more, “Harry?”
YN shakes her head, even more confused, “What?”
“You call Mr Styles by his first name?” Mr Jacobs presses once more.
YN scoffs a laugh, “Yes I do, Mr Jacobs, but I do not see how that is your business.”
“I think it is,” Mr Jacobs nods, “Seeing as though he is your employer, and you call him by his first name.”
“Yes,” YN nods, “My employer who is also my friend, and has been for the past four years.”
Mr Jacobs scoffs, “I should have known. I should have known when you were at the ball, even more so when you refused to join me on promenades, and this has just made it even more apparent.”
YN shook her head, “Made what even more apparent?”
“That your affections lie with Mr Styles, or Harry is it?”
YN could not believe what she was hearing. It angered her more so than she thought anything ever could. The audacity of this man to say such a thing – make such a claim when he did not the extent of the accusations that he was making.
“I think it is time for you to take your leave, Mr Jacobs,” YN stated coldly.
“No,” Mr Jacobs shakes his head, placing his hands upon his hips, “Not until I receive my answer from you.”
“I think my asking of you to leave is answer enough.”
Mr Jacobs sighs, “Will you not at least give me a reason as to why?”
“I said leave!”
“I will not,” YN was surprised at the level at which Mr Jacobs raised his voice, “You have no authority to order me out of this house.”
That was when the door opened and Harry stepped in, the look on his face matching Mr Jacobs in anger.
“That is where you are wrong, Mr Jacobs,” Harry speaks calmly, “This is just as much Miss YLN’s house as it is mine, and if she does not wish for you to be here anymore then you should leave. If you refuse, well that is when I shall step in – and I have no qualms in physically removing you from the property.”
Mr Jacobs looks at YN one last time before scoffing and practically storming out of the room. Once she hears the front door from the side of them slam shut, YN thankfully knows that she is in all clear. It takes all of a few seconds before she breaks down, the tears streaming down her face involuntarily.
“Oh, YN,” Harry takes one look at her shaking body, and he is there, wrapping his arms around her shaking body. The pressure of his body against hers was all she needed to collapse, her legs giving way and her body falling to the ground.
Harry is there to catch her, pulling her body even closer to his. Her hands grasp at the lapel of his jacket, hoping that would give her even an ounce of relief.
“Harry,” She gasps, the tears still streaming down her face, “I am so sorry.”
Harry shook his head, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”
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YN was sitting at the front of the classroom, the complete silence in the room offering an inch of comfort to YN after a difficult few days. 
She was not necessarily one who thought that silent reading time was the best for the children, but she had no other option. The past few days she had not been herself, and unfortunately whilst she had tried to not let it affect her work – there was unfortunately no way that it would not.
YN was staring out of the window when the door opened, replacing the silence in the room with footsteps that could only belong to one person. It was at that point that YN realised that the children had not been reading, and instead had been occupying themselves in other ways. The pencil that Noah had been attempting to balance on his face fell off and clattered to the ground the second his father made an entrance into the room, and Norah dropped the hair that she had been attempting to colour with her crayons.
“Noah, Norah,” Harry addressed his children, “How about you go and find the cook. From what I have heard, she has a plate of treats waiting for you both.”
The children’s faces broke out into smiles, and they bounded past their father, the two of them making it a competition as they did. YN sighed, offering Harry a small smile as he closed the door to the classroom. It was the first time that the two of them had been alone since the incident occurred and YN supposed that was not for a lack of trying on Harry’s part – more so that YN had been avoiding him.
“I know what you are here to discuss, and I fear we cannot,” YN shook her head, watching as Harry leant against the children’s desk and crossed his arms over his face.
“We can,” Harry nodded, “You cannot avoid me forever, seeing as though we live in the same house, and you are the governess to my children. And more importantly, you are my friend.”
YN sighed, “There is nothing to say, Harry. We both know what happened, and I believe the best thing for us to do is move on as though nothing has happened.”
“But we both know that is not the case,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I know that you think the best thing for us to do is ignore the situation, YN, but we cannot.”
YN sighs and nods her head, “Very well, then. Say what you need to.”
Harry sighed and stood up, taking a step closer to YN from over the desk, “Did you want to?”
“Did I what?” YN offered him a puzzled expression.
“Want to marry him?” Harry asks, “Mr Jacobs?”
YN sighed and almost immediately shook her head, “No. I did not. If I had, I would have accepted his hand right then and there. I have told you time and time again, Harry, I am happy just where I am.”
Harry nodded, starting to pace up and down in front of her just as he had the night of the ball. If he was not careful, she would not be surprised if a scuff mark appeared on the floor from his shoes.
Harry stopped directly in front of her and nodded again, “Then marry me.”
YN’s eyes widen. Whilst the last proposal she was shocked and appalled by – this one, she was just shocked. YN could not even believe that those words had just come out of Harry’s lips, and more so that it was directed at her.
“Harry,” YN addressed with a laugh and a shake of her head, “You cannot mean that.”
“But I do,” He nodded, walking around the table so that he was directly in front of the chair that she was sitting in, “I do mean it.”
YN scoffed, “I understand if you are upset with what happened with Mr Jacobs but Harry, what you are saying is preposterous.”
“It is not,” Harry shakes his head, dropping down so he is at eye level with the girl, “I know that you wish to marry, YN, and I am saying – let that person be me.”
“Harry…”
YN’s eyes start to fill with tears, even more so when he reaches forward to grab her hands, “I know that I need to marry, and I know that somewhere, deep down you would like to. We are already acquainted, and I would definitely say that we are friends and I already know that the children like you. I mean – it makes perfect sense to me.”
YN sighed, beginning to shake her head again, “No, Harry you do not mean that.”
“But I do,” He nods his head, his eyes never leaving hers, “I do not think I have ever meant anything more in my life. I lov…” Harry’s eyes widen at his words and then he shakes his head, “I appreciate you more than anything, YN. You have changed my life and my children’s lives for the better. We do not have to care about what society may think, all we have to care about we think. Let me change your life.”
YN opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was truly and honestly in a state of shock.
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spilledkaleidoscope · 7 months ago
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Activation Energy and Executive Dysfunction
A bunch of people (with executive dysfunction I assume) reacted a little disheartened to how I described the phenomenon.
The gist is that I used activation energy, a concept from chemistry, as a model for how executive dysfunction can keep you from doing things. Activation energy is the minimal energy that has to be available for any chemical reaction to occur and that amount is specific to every reaction.
Executive Dysfunction to me means, that this activation energy is always high, even for tasks other people experience as spontaneous reaction (yes the amount of ae and spontaneity of a reaction are not connected necessarily but bear with me here). A good example is showering or feeding yourself or sometimes getting up from the couch.
The tricky thing here is that the energy put into trying to reach activation energy is still *expended*, so while it might seem like nothing happens, you still get drained, making it harder to reach activation energy levels.
So what can we do?
In synthesis, if your activation energy is too high you basically can do two things: you either add a catalyst, or you find a different way to get to your result altogether.
The latter can be choosing a simpler recipe to feed yourself, graze on random items without making a meal until you are full or ordering food for example.
This is not always possible, but it *is* worth thinking about. An example from my life would be that I open my mail outside at the trash bins and immediately discard what I don't need because otherwise, I have paperstuff flying around my appartment that I don't get rid of.
"Weird" is not something that should factor in here. Make it functional and helpful.
The catalyst is my favourite solution however, and I can give you some tips here that you can *immediately* use. I won't know if they work for you, but they do for me (sometimes! be kind to yourself).
CATALYSTS AGAINST EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION
Have your tasks broken down: when you have energy, make sure that the thing on your to do list is something you can *actually* physically immediately do. Don't write "make reservation", but "call restaurant" along with the number. Not "clean kitchen" but "move dishes to sink" etc
Doorway Effect: The Doorway effect describes that silly thing that, when we cross a boundary, we sometimes feel like we've been soft reset ("what was I going to do?"). A hypothesis for why this happens can be that it helps our brain create separate contexts which then aids memory creation. What it can do for you is that it is an easy way to change context, which then frees you up to start something new more easily. Try it! Physically go through a doorway or open a different window on the computer, sometimes that is enough.
Costuming: Similar to the Doorway Effect, we are changing context in a low effort way here. Concentrate on putting on your shoes instead of taking out the trash or put on some rubber gloves if you plan on cleaning. Might be enough. Sometimes putting on mascara is enough for me to go "oh I am out of couch potato mode now"
Move! Put yourself where you need to be to tackle your task. That can already help.
Pressure: This can be done by setting a timer that will go off soon. Challenge yourself to get up and go before it rings - might stress you into inaction sometimes, but it can be helpful. I love visual timers for this as it helps with my time blindness
Prepare! If you are in a state of flow and have energy to spare *use it*. This includes breaking down your task as already described but also preparing your space - this can be a cleaned up desk or a caddy with cleaning supplies in a prominent spot.
And my absolute favorite: Throw a dice. When it is really bad, one thing I can always do is throw a dice (via an app, typing "d20" into the search bar or physically having one on me - which I usually do now). I tell myself that if I "make the roll" I get up and do it and if I don't, I try again in 20 minutes. This changes context easily, removes responsibility from me and makes the whole thing playful. I usually go with a d20 and tell myself to get going with a result over 10. If I have a particularly bad day I might need 15+ to do something. Just try it.
In short, what we are trying to do is
minimize friction by frontloading as much thinking and preparing as we can
make a context change as easy and small as possible
And remember: the goal is never to Always Be Doing Something.
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fagsystem · 1 year ago
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As an ambulatory wheelchair user I have so many thoughts about how people draw/write disabled!Scar. This is sort of a guide/insight from a disabled person about writing/drawing disabled people.
Specifically in regards to wheelchair users.
Do not get me wrong, this fandom is genuinely probably the best group of people I have ever seen when it comes to drawing wheelchairs. I do not believe I have ever seen Scar fanart where he is in a completely unusable, horrible, hospital chair. It is so clear people have taken the time and energy to research into wheelchairs and I love it. I am in no way saying stop that.
I just think people could maybe put a little bit more consideration into him being disabled beyond visual appearance.
I saw a really amazing artwork of SL!Scar and he is in a sports chair. Which is really cool, in many ways, as it shows some thought being put into the setting. If I were in combat, I would in fact like to not be knocked from my chair or have my chair tipped over.
Yet, you have very limited mobility in a sports chair. It is, by design, made to prevent you from tipping over. Which means that you are incapable of going over bumps, really, let alone natural terrain.
Just in general, there really is not any wheelchair that exists in our world that would allow wheelchair users to exist in a setting like the life series.
So, I have some ideas:
- Horses. Hands down my biggest suggestion. Especially with Secret Life they fit in very well with the setting, everyone uses them, and it fits the bill perfectly for what he would need. Especially considering Scar is an archer, it makes a lot of sense for him to be on horseback. It suits him and his style of fighting so well.
- Some sort of redstone power chair. There are all sorts of ways you could design something like this. Perhaps with pistons that push down against the ground, allowing for jumps. Perhaps just a series of pistions functioning as like a bunch of little spider legs. There are a lot of things you can do with that, you can get very creative.
- For my Vex!Scar lovers, you could have magic be used as a mobility aid. Perhaps a magic wheelchair, or perhaps a magic exoskeleton.
And with all of the ideas, considering how they fit into the setting really changes everything. What are the strengths? What are the draw backs?
With horses, they are strong and fast and agile. But they are big, it is hard to fit into small spaces, and they can be killed.
With some sort of redstone chair, I feel as though it would make sense for it to be robust and strong. Depending on how it is constructed, something fast and agile or perhaps something a bit slower and more clunky. Is it loud? How would stealth work in something like that?
When it comes to any sort of magic you do not want it to fix the disability. It is a mobility aid like any other. Not perfect, not the same as not being disabled, just another tool with its own unique draw backs. Perhaps magic is draining or it takes concentration. Would he tire quicker than others? Would he require food quicker than others? Is it possible for him to lose focus on it in a stressful situation, leaving him stuck until he can calm himself down?
Other things to consider are really specifically the setting as well as what disability you are giving him.
I feel as though on Hermitcraft an option like a redstone chair just makes a lot of sense. Multiple redstone chairs, even, all constructed differently for different uses. Such as ones for building. How does long distance travel work with the chair and how you lore your setting? Is it something he can put in his inventory? Is it something he remains in when using an elytra? Does that have any draw backs, such as being slower or needing more rockets or being less coordinated in the air?
I feel as though in the life series a mix of vex magic and horses makes a lot of sense. The magic is good for small spaces and short trips and emergencies, but it is too tiring to travel across the map with and too much effort to maintain when he needs to concentrate on battles. That would be where the horse comes into play.
As for what disability, well, it truly depends. Most of my rambles here have been based upon paraplegia, because I often times see people making him an ambulatory wheelchair user just because they do not know what to do otherwise.
Not that making him an ambulatory wheelchair user is a bad thing by any means. I am one and I adore reading stories like that. It is just a bit clear that a lot of you are quite lost as to how to navigate hurdles disabled people face, so you make it so he can walk over those hurdles. Which, once again, I am not shaming you for! This post is just to show there are other options
But in the case of him being an ambulatory wheelchair user: why is he one?
Mobilities aids are disabling unless you need them. You cannot access spaces or you do not have hands free or any number of things. What to the Scar you are writing makes using mobility aids helpful instead of a hindrance? What times are they more trouble than help, and what cost is there for not using it?
A good example is if Scar can walk around short distances with minimal difficulty/drawback, but long distances are painful or physically not possible.
Look into different disabilities and consider it. A lot of people tend to default to chronic pain because that tends to be quite a common one across a lot of disabled people, but there are a lot more different reasons why.
It could also be that he is very slow because of his disabilities. I have muscle weakness sometimes because of my FND, and it is like moving through sludge whenever I try and move.
It could also be that the mobility aids are a preventative measure. He does not need to use his wheelchair, unless he has done too much walking and then his body refuses to support his weight. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but when he does not he is a lot more likely to dislocate something and then yeah he can't walk. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but he is a fall risk especially after a lot of walking or running. Him being in his wheelchair prevents him from falling! (And if he's a fall risk, maybe he's strapped in too!)
I just have so many thoughts and I wanted to share them.
I see so many of you putting in effort already and it warms my heart. It is why I feel comfortable enough to make this post, because clearly you all care a lot about representing disabled people well.
:]
If you have read this far thank you so much. Let me know what you think or if you have any questions.
Edit: I made a rough redstone wheelchair design. It is one of the few reblogs that has comments, if you filter for that you should be able to find it. If not, reply to the post and I can send you the link to it. :]
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zablife · 4 months ago
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Save me Darlin'
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Benny Cross x female reader
Benny Cross Masterlist
A/N: Bc this seemed to be a fave line from my headcanons about Benny, it gets its own imagine. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blow job, corruption
"Fix your damn jacket," Johnny grumbled, turning to give Benny a scowl as the young man flicked his cigarette butt onto your father's perfectly manicured lawn.
"Jesus Christ we're trying to get these people to change their mind about us," Johnny huffed, climbing the steps to greet your father with a firm handshake.
Benny ducked his head to hide the smirk on his lips as he mumbled under his breath, "Well they really ain't gonna trust us now." Johnny was an unknowing accomplice in his plan to get close to you, a diversion to gain access to the prettiest little thing he'd ever seen.
Normally he wouldn't need to meet anyone's daddy, let alone pretend to care what they thought about him, but you were different. A carefully guarded princess in a tower, he might never have known you existed if Betty hadn’t dragged him to that church picnic last month.
Sometimes he wondered if he might be better off never to have met you though. As it was, most nights he lay awake replaying every minute you'd spent together, jerking off to the memories he’d carefully stored. Your innocent doe eyes staring up at him as you passed him a glass of lemonade, biting your lip just so. Or the way you absently twirled your necklace between delicate fingertips, running the tiny gold cross over your tongue before dropping it into the front of your sundress. And, God, the way your chest rose and fell as he showed you his motorcycle, soft voice promising so earnestly, "I'll pray for ya every night, Benny."
You entered his mind at the most inopportune times, stealing his concentration. He was a man obsessed, in need of one more glimpse of you. Even at this very moment as your father stared at him with disapproval, he knew he'd risk everything to make that a reality. If only he could get out of this living room and find you.
"I asked you a question, son," your father's voice boomed suddenly, pulling Benny from his scheming.
Blinking helplessly, Benny looked to Johnny who came to his aid. "Few odd jobs, nothing regular, but he ain't been here long."
Your father pursed his lips as he replied, "Spose that's why you have so much free time to ride those death machines."
"They're safer than they look," Johnny assured, clearing his throat and wishing Benny would say or do something other than stare down the hallway.
Luckily your mother came into the room with refreshments, breaking the tension as she began to ask questions about Betty and the children. It seemed to lighten the mood momentarily and Benny took it as his opportunity to escape, asking for the bathroom.
As soon as he turned the corner away from prying eyes, he heard a gentle humming and his heart began to thunder in his chest. Walking as carefully as possible on the rickety floorboards, he willed his heavy boots not to make a sound as he approached the crack in your door. Face bathed in the sliver of light emanating from a tiny lamp at your bedside, he watched in hushed awe as you tied pink, satin ribbons in your hair. Lace nightie inching higher with each raise of your elbow, the thin material slowly grazed along your upper thighs, making him sigh appreciatively.
He could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile winking back at him in the mirror as you reached for your lotion and a familiar heat began to rise in his abdomen. In a moment of courage, he slipped inside your room. Closing the door behind himself with a soft thud, he placed a finger to his lips with a look of mischievous delight.
The sight was utterly contagious, making you clasp a hand to your mouth to stifle the giggle ready to erupt from your lips. However, the sound of your father's voice a few rooms over soon impressed the seriousness of the situation upon you.
Rushing at Benny with palms splayed on his chest to move him back across the threshold, you whispered frantically, "We can't...you have to go."
"You want me to go?" came Benny's breathless response, hoping this wouldn't be the way things ended.
As you lost yourself in the ocean's of his eyes, you gulped, shaking your head pathetically.
"Then let me stay," he begged, giving his best puppy dog eyes. You tried to look away, but he hooked your chin with his fingers holding your gaze in a smoldering stare. He watched as your resolve crumbled before him, a small smile playing on his lips as he asked, "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl?"
You nodded as best you could in his firm grasp, only a whimper of agreement as your reply.
His cock stirred at your admission, the idea that you'd thought of him at night enough to rouse his deepest desires. The world fell away as he tugged you into his body, hands roving your hips and lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Yeah? On your hands and knees? Let me see."
Benny could tell by the way your breasts crushed against his chest that you were breathing hard, unaccustomed to someone manhandling you like this. You tapped his elbow for him to relinquish his hold and for a moment his heart stopped, worried he'd pushed you too far. As he surveyed the crucifix on your wall and the sweet confection of a dress you'd laid out for Sunday service in the morning, he reminded himself you weren't the kind of girl who did these things....even knew about them.
Then something miraculous happened. You sunk to your knees in the plush carpet, hands trailing along his muscular thighs reverently before coming to rest inches from his crotch. As you sat back on your heels you looked up at him, eyes glistening and plump lips parted. He might have hallucinated the next part, but the golden glow over the crown of your head looked damn near like a halo in the dim light. You offering yourself to him like an angel in one of his dreams.
Benny wasn't a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, but if he was he'd swear God sent you straight to him. He was certain the warmth of your smile and the softness of your touch was all he'd ever need to feel complete. Now he understood why you had to be kept under lock and key. A person like you was too precious to be defiled and his conscience began to gnaw at him the longer he stared, thumb stroking your bottom lip tenderly.
But the sinner that wanted every part of you was winning the battle inside him and soon his own desire overtook him. He moved his hand to tangle in your hair and took hold of your silky ribbons like a set of reins, guiding you closer in silent demand. Widening his stance to accommodate you, he urged, "Go on, baby."
And you answered the plea, tethered to his side dutifully. You nuzzled against his bulge, feeling the effect you had on him. In a word it was intoxicating and you needed more. Undoing his zip you gasped at the sight of him, knowing instantly you'd take the risk of being caught if it meant touching him, holding him...feeling the weight of him on your tongue.
The growls you pulled from him were devilish even as your delicate fingers and mouth tried to calm the beast inside him. He was a man possessed, but you did your best to keep pace with the ravenous desire of his hips pushing into you, causing saliva to run down your chin and past your knuckles. With every gag, he seemed to clutch your shoulder tighter, sigh a little deeper and it spurred you on until you heard him instruct you in a shaky voice, "Have to... swallow it all now, darlin'... okay?"
Your mind raced as you tried to recall what your friends had told you about this, but you didn't have time as he spilled into your waiting mouth. The bitter tang coated your tongue with his grateful pants echoing over your head. As you swallowed everything he had to give, you felt him stroke your cheek adoringly. "Angel, I think I love you," he exhaled on a low breath, raising you to your feet for a passionate kiss.
There was little time to bask in the afterglow, however. The din in the lounge had grown, indicating some kind of argument and he quickly stuffed himself back into his jeans.
“I don't think you can stay," you mumbled sorrowfully against his lips.
"S'okay, nothin’s gonna keep us apart," he assured you, that wicked grin returning.
"You promise?" you asked, tears gathering at your lashline in fear he'd never return.
"Always keep my promises, angel. Keep prayin' for me now," he winked, glancing down at your dimpled, reddened knees before exiting out your bedroom door.
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ponderingmoonlight · 10 months ago
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Giyuu Tomioka stopping you from killing Nezuko with his own methods
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Pairing: Giyuu x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,6k
Synopsis: When you were assigned to assist Shinobu and your former master and secret crush Giyuu, you never imagined to find him saving a demon. How is he supposed to stop you from fulfilling your duty, from hating him?
Warnings: hurt to comfort, Giyuu is...well, Giyuu. As always in my kny fics, I'm using some ai pics so if this doesn't sit right with you don't go any further, not 100% proofread, let me know what you think <3
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“I will assist the young slayers in this area. Are you okay with aiding Tomioka?”
Your heart skips a beat by the sheer sound of his name. The man who trained you so well that you’d be a hashira if he wasn’t still stronger than you. The man with the ocean blue eyes, the calmest composure, who never talks much but always finds the right words.
Giyuu Tomioka, the men you fell hopelessly in love with a long time ago.
“I am”, you reply, concentrated on his smell that hangs in the air.
He ran down here just like you do now. Where is he? Is he alright? Hopefully no one was hurt.
“I thought so”, Shinobu replies with a kind smile.
It’s not a secret to any hashira anymore how you feel for the water pillar. Maybe it’s because you share the same breathing style, maybe it’s the fact that he knows how to tame down your pounding heart, to give you the calmness you need in these turbulent times.
“Take care of yourself, I’m sure you’ll do great!”
With that, the insect pillar disappears into the other direction of the forest, leaving you alone with your pounding heartbeat and the stinging smell of blood that hangs in the air. You grip the handle of your sword tighter, dash forward a little faster. You can do this. After all, Giyuu Tomioka was a great teacher.
He didn’t prepare you for the scene that lays itself out in front of your eyes, though. A demon lying on the floor along with a boy, just inches away. Him, bending over them. If it stretches out its hand, if it hits him with full force… Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, race towards him as fast as you can. You need to save him, need to kill that demon, you-
You can’t believe your eyes. The blade of your sword crushes into another one. Not the claws of a demon, not the katana of the boy lying on the floor.
It’s Giyuu’s sword.
You glide through the air elegantly, eyes meeting his ocean blue orbs that don’t show anything but calmness. Is he…protecting them?
“I’m begging you to spare them.”
You can’t believe your ears, the urgent tone in his voice so unusual that you can’t help but stop in your tracks. Is this really Giyuu? The man who taught you to kill every demon on your way? The man who never hesitates, who does his duty without thinking twice? Right now, he positioned himself between you and both of them, his sword ready to dodge your attack all over again.
“She’s a demon”, you clarify, eyes wandering to the girl who lays on the floor and eyes you sceptically.
No, this isn’t right. You can’t just stand here and do nothing. Without replying to his words, you dash forward again just the way he taught you.
Only to get greeted by his blade again.
He grabs your arm gently and pulls you closer with a swift motion of his trained body. You hold your breath, heart pounding out of your chest all over again. Giyuu being so close to you, Giyuu protecting a demon…
“What has gotten into you?”, you breathe out.
Oh, how lovely your haori sparkles in the down-going sun, how gorgeous your eyes gleam only inches away from his own face. Will he ever get enough from simply looking at you, from studying every inch of your colourful orbs? You really learned how to handle your sword well, the elegant movements of your body surpassing his own.
No. He shakes his head ever so slightly. This is not the right time to ponder about your gorgeous appearance. After all, you’re standing right in from of him, your eyes reflecting the distress he caused by protecting Kamado Tanjiro and his sister from your blade. Would you understand? After all these times he taught you not to spare a single demon, the countless nights he encouraged you to behead them. It is too much to ask you for mercy now?
“You need to spare them.”
Your world is turned upside down, orbs eyeing him up and down in sheer disbelief. This doesn’t sound like the man you know at all. Is this a cruel trick, the power of the demon, maybe? As if he’s able to read your thoughts, he lets his sword fall into the discoloured snow and cups your cheek gently.
“We both know I can’t.”
He allows his eyes to rest for a moment, to think about what he’ll do next really careful. One glimpse into your determined orbs shows that you won’t give in, that you are too skilled and smart to simply follow his pleas. No, he has to find another way, he-
“Can you move?”
His heart stings in agony just by thinking what he’s about to do next.
“Make yourself move even if you can’t move.”
But he has to. If there’s the slightest chance Tanjiro’s sister can be healed, he needs to path their way.
“Take your sister and run.”
Even if it means betraying you. You, his first tsugoko. You, the woman he loves in secret.
“Tomioka-san…Sorry for the trouble, thank you very much!”
You can’t believe your ears, widen eyes watching in horror as the boy grabs the demon’s hand and sprints away.
“Giyuu…”
Your whole body feels numb, mind desperately trying to process what just happened. Your master, the water pillar…A traitor?
“This…This is against the Corps rules…”, you mumble.
He grabs your other hand as well, forces your sword into the snow right next to his.
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“It was never my attention to betray you, (y/n). But I can’t allow you to kill that demon. We need to give them a chance.”
“She’s a demon!”, you shout, arms fighting against the sheer force of his grip only to fall into the cold snow violently.
You can’t hold back the tears that start to sting in your eyes anymore. No, this isn’t only about the sheer fact that he spared a demon. It’s about the fact that he betrayed you, that he still doesn’t share the reason why he saved them.
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“I thought you trust me. I thought you…care more about me.”
It kills him from the inside, the way you look up at him with all that grief in your eyes getting reflected in the moonlight. Giyuu can only imagine how you must feel, how it has to look in your gorgeous orbs.
“I care about you more than anything else, (y/n). But still, I can’t allow you to kill that demon. Not her.”
“Do you know her? Is that the reason why you don’t want to see her die?”
You hate the pity tone in your voice, the struck of jealousy that fires your anger all over again. You lift yourself off the ground and storm towards him, grabbing his haori tightly.
“I gave it all up for you. I worked hard to become the demon slayer you always imagined me to be, I did everything I could to stay by your side, I…I always longed for you to love me back, Giyuu Tomioka. Only for you to break your own rules, to lie into my face!”, you shout at him, shaking him violently before you are able to stop yourself.
“I thought you’d feel the same way but apparently, I’m nothing but a fool.”
 “But I do.”
Before you’re able to shake him again, he grabs your wrists firmly and pulls you closer, the heat radiating from your body becoming unbearable to ignore.
“You’re right, you don’t deserve that I’m lying to your face. I should have told you about them a long time ago, should have been honest with you. The truth is, I fail to understand myself why that demon didn’t kill the boy yet. Master Urukodaki…He himself told me that she is under control and does not pose a threat. If there is the slightest chance she’ll turn into a human again I need to protect them both. He is special, (y/n).”
Everything is too much. His sudden outburst, the fact that there’s still a demon out there, Shinobu who told you over and over to not spare a single one of them.
“I can’t”, you cry out.
As if in trance you grab your sword again, sprint down the soft snowy ground in the direction of the boy and the demon. What are you supposed to do? Kill them, spare them, talk to them? That girl is a demon, she needs to get killed. But all the sings Giyuu said, that look on his face. You can’t ignore what he sees in them, the words of none other than master Urukodaki haunting you down. Maybe he is right. But still, she’s a demon, you’re a demon slayer, it’s your destiny to-
You land on the ground softly.
“Please don’t run away from me.”
Suddenly it feels even harder to breathe, your lungs getting pressed into the ground without any mercy. Was it another demon, an attack from behind? Your eyes dart upwards, searching for hold in the dim moonlight.
Only to get greeted by Gyiuu Tomioka’s ocean blue eyes.
“Stay.”
“I…can’t”, you press out, arms fighting against his larger frame.
He lays on top of you, his arms pinning you down onto the ground while the sheer weight of his body keeps you in place. You might be strong, a skilled demon slayer.
But he’s still Giyuu Tomioka.
“You lied to me! You played with me! Shin…Shinobu-san is here too! When she finds out what you did, that you helped a demon…Don’t you know that you might die!?”
It becomes more than urgent to you. None of this is about the fact that he helped a demon, that you fail to understand why he feels sympathy for that poor boy. It’s about the risk of losing Giyuu, his potential end as a pillar and his whole life. No other hashira will understand why he acted the way he did. And if Kagaya-sama thinks the same…You swallow away the big lump that forms in your throat, blink away the tears that threaten to fall again.
You can’t afford to lose him.
Instead of answering, Giyuu just stares down at you, gets lost in the ocean of your eyes. Oh, he always pondered about the fact how well water breathing suits you. With your movements being flowy like waves and your eyes reflecting the ocean itself, it wouldn’t be hard for him to stare at you all day. You are magnificent, so kind that the world doesn’t deserve you, well-liked by everyone else. Why is it him you’re staring at, why do you even care about the fact that he might die? It shouldn’t bother you, shouldn’t hit you the way it does.
“I love you!”, you finally cry into the night.
The unspoken words between both of you, the stinging true always present but never talked about. You love him with all your heart, with all you have.
And the thought of losing him kills you from the inside.
Gyiuu can’t believe his ears, still staring at you without even flinching. You…love him? A gorgeous girl like you who turns heads on a regular basis, so skilled that you’re even able to outstand Kyojuro’s training. Why would you love a man like him who has nothing to offer? Even if it makes his usual calm heart flutter in sheer excitement, even if he wants nothing more than closing the gap between your faces and get a taste of your lips, he stays right in place.
“Don’t worry about me. I will not escape my punishment.”
You let out your shaky breath, mind not able to process his words while your heart already shatters into a million tiny pieces.
“BUT I CARE!”
You grab his haori tightly, knuckles standing out white while you stare up at his unwavering eyes.
“I care about you! I don’t want you to die because of something like this, I don’t want to lose you!”
He should let go of you, should stand up and walk away. You don’t deserve the pain he puts you through, you never did.
But instead, his hands cup your cheeks gently. Instead, he leans down, closer and closer to your gorgeous face.
Instead, he presses his lips against yours.
You forget how to exist for a second. Is this…is this really happening? Gyiuu Tomioka laying on top of you, his firm body pressed against yours. Giyuu Tomioka, kissing you oh so gently. You feel like fainting and flying at the same time, as good as never before while a wave of stomach flutter hits you with full force.
How many times did you imagine in secret how it must feel to have him so close? All these countless nights you pondered about the feeling of his lips, how it must be to hug him. And now all of this is happening all at once.
“Now, what do we have here? Aren’t both of you supposed to kill the demon who just run away?”
He lets go faster than you’re able to react, his hand stretched out in order to help you off the ground.
“Shinobu-san”, you breathe out in sheer horror.
Your hands start trembling, glossy eyes darting towards her. How long is she here? What did she hear? Your stomach drops to the ground. Please, she didn’t hear about the stinging fact that Giyuu helped that demon, she didn’t-“
“Is it true that you wanted to spare this demon, Tomioka?”
You swallow hard, vision getting blurry. As much as you adore Shinobu with all your heart, you know as good as she does that helping a demon is strictly against the Corps rules. And even though you weren’t strong enough to stop him, from reporting his resistance.
Shinobu will.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he blankly stares at her, body positioning itself in front of her and you.
“(y/n), were you also involved into this? I thought you are a better demon slayer than that. You even have the chance to be a hashira! What a shame-“
“Stop”, Giyuu interrupts her.
“She tried to stop me multiple times.”
“Giyuu”, you mutter under your breath.
“Is that so? Well, isn’t the word of your crush enough to stop you? Aren’t you aware of what awaits you?”
You watch in horror as she storms towards him, her sword ready to hit him.
“So you’re really serious about saving a demon? So serious that you’re not only risking your life, but (y/n)’s as well?”
Their blades clash into each other over and over.
“Please stop, it’s not what you think!”, you desperately try to interrupt.
“I am not risking (y/n)’s life”, he clarifies.
“Oh, but you do? How are we supposed to know she didn’t help you? After all, everybody knows how close you are!”
You can’t escape the blush that creeps up your face immediately.
“T-that’s…n-not true!”
“And because (y/n) is important to me, I’d never put her life into danger.”
“I have a message from headquarters! Bring them back! Bring them back! Tanjiro, dressed in a checkered haori, with a scar on his forehead! Nezuko, a demon girl with a bamboo muzzle! Bring them back! Bring them back!”
Without another word, Shinobu puts her sword in her sheath and starts walking away. Oh, this is bad. Absolutely bad. Getting sent to the headquarters means only one thing…
“Don’t worry too much.”
Giyuu grabs your hand firmly, his eyes captivate you in an instant.
“I won’t allow anyone to hurt you.”
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345 @komelrebi-san
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a-d-nox · 3 months ago
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pac/pap: what is changing in your life this season?
take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.
last pac/pap: how can i present myself in the best way possible?
masterlist of pap/pac posts
want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!
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pile 1
you might be meeting someone new who brings a fresh perspective or emotional depth into your life; it could be a friend, partner, and/or mentor. this is also a great time to start a new artistic endeavor; painting, writing, or crafting, which will allow you to express yourself in unexpected ways. personal growth can occur through these activities as well as they aid with introspection or therapy, leading to a better understanding of your own feelings and needs. engaging in and/or receiving unexpected acts of kindness that uplift your spirits and encourage you to connect more deeply with others will greatly benefit you this season. receiving and/or giving thoughtful and heartfelt gestures in a romantic relationship will deepen emotional bonds. that being said addressing and healing past emotional wounds is critical, this will lead to a renewed sense of peace and emotional clarity.
there might be a new opportunity for growth in your career/investments. prioritize your self-care and personal well-being this season; perhaps through adopting healthier habits and/or finding more balance in your life. don't shy away from practical advice that will help you manage everyday responsibilities more effectively. you could experience increased productivity in your work and/or personal life; which could be supported by your increased organization and focus this season.
you are likely to find yourself making quick decisions and/or decisively acting to pursue your goals, even if it means facing challenges head-on. make sure you are engaging in stimulating conversations or debates, where sharp thinking and clear communication are crucial. this will help you make the correct decision for you long term. also make sure you are using your logic and analytical skills to cut through confusion and to help you solve problems efficiently. it is time to address conflicts or misunderstandings directly.
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you may experience unexpected expenses, find it hard to save money, and/or face a temporary loss of income. make budgeting and financial planning your focus starting now. as there could be delays or obstacles in your career, such as a promotion being postponed, a job offer falling through, or feeling unmotivated/uninspired at work. minor health issues or feeling physically drained could arise; you need to pay more attention to your well-being, diet, and/or exercise routines. you may find it difficult to concentrate on tasks which leads to unfinished work and/or feeling scattered. your investments (financial or otherwise) may not yield the expected returns, causing you to rethink where you’re putting your resources (and time) in to. you could be questioning what’s truly important to you, leading to a shift in how you view success, happiness, and/or stability.
you may feel trapped in a situation (relationship and/or job) without a clear way out. which could lead to frustration or a sense of helplessness because you’re unsure how to move forward. is it the universe or you? it might just be you who is resisting necessary changes; holding onto the familiar out of fear of the unknown (even if it’s not in your best interest). otherwise, instead of taking the time to think things through, you might make hasty decisions that lead to you feeling as sense of regret. you could find yourself holding onto past hurts, grudges, and/or regrets, which prevent you from moving forward with a clear and open mind.
you might feel like you’re not making progress, even though you’ve put in a lot of effort. there’s a sense of being stuck or not being able to move on to the next phase of your life. i feel like it is unresolved issues or "loose ends" that need your attention before you can truly move forward. this could involve past relationships, projects, and/or personal matters that require closure. it may be a struggle to find closure in certain situations, whether it’s ending a relationship, leaving a job, and/or moving on from a past experience. this lack of closure can prevent you from fully embracing new opportunities. there is a sense of disconnection from others and/or from your sense of purpose. there could be a feeling of isolation / lack of harmony in your relationships or within yourself. the time is now to wrap things up or learn better coping mechanisms.
pile 3
you may find yourself managing multiple priorities or projects - prepare yourself mentally for taking more on. life may throw some curveballs your way; you will be required to adapt quickly. go with the flow and handle changes with grace - this will be essential. budgeting and/or managing money might be a key focus for you this season as well. you need to organize your time better to accommodate all of your commitments, both personal and professional.
projects and/or plans that you hoped would move forward might encounter unexpected setbacks. which could lead to frustration and/or a feeling that things are not progressing as you thought they would. you might struggle to see the bigger picture, causing you to hyper-focus on immediate problems and not the long-term. which could pigeon hole you or decrease your opportunities upcoming. now is a good time to re-evaluate your current goals and/or strategies. rethink which direction you want to head to ensure it aligns with your true desires and capabilities. also this season there may be issues with teamwork and/or "your cooperation". misunderstandings and/or a lack of support from others is likely.
otherwise, there is something worth celebration happening for you this season; whether it’s a party, a reunion, or any event that brings your people together. enjoy the company of friends and loved ones - celebrate your achievements and/or special occasions this season. your social circle and friendships are going to be more important than ever this season. you might find yourself relying on your friends for support or just enjoying each others company. reminder: you don’t have to go through things alone; there are people who care about you and are willing to help.
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bloodykora · 5 months ago
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Scrapped Knees
Hehe I just started writing and this came out. Hope yall enjoy, more stalker mc content.
MDNI this game is 18+ therefore so is my writing. TW: mentions of blood, and the normal yandere tropes TKATB List
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'Hey so uh I may be a smidge late. I totally did not fall and scrape the fuck outta my knees. :)'
You hit send and wait, looking down to your legs that are now dripping with blood. The concrete making a perfect target. You glance back to the phone, those three familiar dots appearing as Sol quickly typed back.
'Oh wow, where? I'll just meet you there with some bandages. Don't hurt yourself further.' Your face pops into a huge grin while reading his text, you look around for a place to sit. Finding a curb where you could plant while you waited.
'I'm like.. a block and half down from the cafe. But I can meet you!' You text back, taking your bag off and setting your phone down. You pull your legs near your face, observing at the carnage when you hear your phone buzz again.
'No, stay. I'm coming.' You smile and shake your head a bit, giggling at how easy it was. Bait set and trap. Not very easy to fall just enough to only damage your knees, speaking of. Your gaze falls to them again, using your fingers to pry out the few rocks that had settled into the wound.
It wasn't long until the sound of steps echoed closer to you, relaxing your legs out instead of being scrunched up. You turn to look down the road, Sol speed walking with a plastic bag in one of his hands and his backpack slung over the other shoulder.
"Hehe hi, sorry about this." You sheepishly spoke as he approaches you, setting both of the bags he had down along with yours. He immediately kneels down to look at your legs, gently taking them into his hands. Heat of embarrassment building in your body as you watch his eyes.
"You need to be more careful." His tone darker then normal, flutters of butterflies in your chest as you hear his words. Need to be more careful, careful for him because he cares. He practically rips open the bag. Gauze and bandaids, cotton balls along with two bottles of water. Even some pain meds.
"Where did you get all that?" Turning your head to the side a bit in confusion as you eye all the supplies. He cracks a top of one of the bottles off, taking out a few cotton balls before pouring some water on them. Dabbing it to the scrapes.
"I ran to the little store down the road. They luckily had this stuff." Your smile grows wider at his words. "Sol thats so nice!" The words spill out before you can even think about them. A small blush now filling his cheeks as you reach out to hold his arm. Rubbing along his long sleeved shirt.
The stinging of the cuts barely being noticeable as he touches your skin. Sticking dried blood now being wiped up, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling when he throws a cotton ball out. It goes quiet as the sun begins to set, orange skies casting over the pair of you.
He begins to open the band aids, choosing which size would fit over your knees best. You admire him, taking in his hair, his face, his piercings, his black painted nails, the way his eyes fix into a stare as he begins to concentrate on something. He places two band aids on one knee, covering the now beginning to scab parts. He then begins to repeat with the other.
"When you're all done, are you gonna kiss my boo boos better?" You ask earnestly, his stare blanks for a second before a small smile appears on his face. "If you really want me to." His smile turns into a smirk at your face blanking, your ears burning. It quiets down again as he finishes patching you up, gentle with his touch.
"Do you want any pain killers?" He asks, finally looking back up to your face as you shyly shake your head no. He then keeps eye contact with you as he lofts your knee to his face, closing his eyes softly. Then pressing his lips to the bandage. Your hands fly up to your face, covering your face. Too embarrassed to even look at his face afterwards. A low chuckle hits your ears causing you to shake your head in reply.
"Uhh anyways!" You shout behind your hands, trying to change the topic. Peaking out as he tucks the extras into his bag. "Its gonna be dark soon now, how about I walk you home?" You remove your hands and agree, smiling as he puts his hand out for you to take to get up.
"Yeah! And we can finish up the assignment there too." He nods as you two start walking as the street lights begin to turn on around you.
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blackbat05 · 1 year ago
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After Missions
Miguel O’Hara x Reader
Plot: Miguel rarely let’s anyone in after missions. But he does make exceptions.
Genre: PG-13
A/N: Movie was amazing! I would say more but I’ll stop myself. I see a lot of fics for Miguel but there’s few SFW ones, that needs to changed. Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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“You sure you don’t need to get yourself checked out?”
“I’m fine.”
“I can literally see a gash on your side, Miguel.” Jess deadpans.
“I’m fine.”
“Is that all you know how to say?”
“No-yes-argh! Just leave me alone please.” Miguel widens his stride, entering his private space. Well, almost private space.
“I can call her.” Lyla and her uncanny ability to pop up despite not being called for.
“You will do no such thing.” Miguel winces as he takes a seat. Peeling off his suit, he groans as the gash looks at him with a nasty red smile. This was going to take a while.
Lyla shrugs, “Suit yourself boss.” Her hologram switches off quicker than usual and Miguel knows that she’s up to something. Not that he had the energy to care.
Using his left leg, Miguel pulls out the first aid kit with difficulty. The gash was just all in a day’s work, but that didn’t mean he looked forward to stitching it up after every mission. You always did it much better.
“So, are you even going to sleep tonight?”
Miguel sees you standing at the entrance and curses internally.
“One of these days, I’m going to shut Lyla down.” He mutters, loud enough for you to hear.
“It was Peter actually. Thank god because he knew you would be to stubborn to call for help.” Despite your jab at Miguel, you didn’t seem to bothered at how grumpy he was.
Sitting across him, you take the needle from Miguel’s hands. “You didn’t think of taking some painkillers before I don’t know- you try and sow yourself up?”
“I don’t need it.” Miguel grunts as you prepare to clean the wound. He hisses loudly as the cotton touches the raw skin.
“Sure tough guy, keep telling yourself that.” You chuckle. “Here, take these.” You pass him a couple of painkillers before getting to work.
Silence takes over as you steadily work on his wounds. Pursing your lips in concentration, you finish the last bit, cutting off the excess string.
“Done!” You stand up slowly to stretch your body. You stand beside Miguel who is still sitting down, tossing on a grey sweater. You run your fingers through his curly hair, giving Miguel a head pat.
“What are you doing?” Miguel doesn’t seem annoyed. In fact, he seemed more confused at your actions.
“A head pat. I thought that would be obvious. For a job well done. Usually the people that I stitch up are way more fidgety.” You mused. “Besides, isn’t it nice?”
Miguel’s about to tell you that he isn’t a domesticated animal but your fingers somehow work magic on his scalp. He finds himself automatically leaning into your touch, letting out a soft purr.
“Not a word to anyone about this.”
“As long as you come straight to me after missions.”
“Deal.”
***
Afterword
“Did you guys see that! Miguel just smiled! Oh the world’s going to end soon.” Peter gasps dramatically as he paces up and down the room with a babbling Mayday.
“I knew our boss had some color to him! He’s not just multiverse business and all.” Pavitr grins. “Hobie come on, gimme my 10 bucks.”
“Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this. How was I supposed to know O’Hara had a soft side to him?” Hobie passes him a couple of bills.
“Alright guys, let’s get outta here before Miguel finds out.” Gwen ushers the group towards the exit before all four come to halt to see an unamused Miguel glaring at them.
“Oh shit.”
***
Feel free to explore my other Miguel works here!
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hobvitr · 1 year ago
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pavitr prabhakar x reader
gn! reader.
genre/warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, stabilized relationship, reader has anxiety, mention of wounds, blood, just a lil blurb
sinopses: you discover you boyfriend is spiderman, but just because he has nowhere to go to treat his wounds.
what else to do on a tuesday night instead of sketch some stuff and finish your homework, right? your boyfriend occupied for god knows how long due to his "grown up" responsibilities who you wouldn't even question too much, knowing he as well might have his privacy and you trust him blindly.
you draw stern lines with your pencil above the paper, headphones on and you hum along some of your favorite songs. a light thud catches your attention, looking up from the paper to look at your right... nothing. then your left..
"what the- WHAT THE FUCK?" your voice comes out first at a normal volume, then coming more like a whisper-yell as you look at pavitr entering your room through your window. but the problem is, you live in a building at the sixth floor, and he's using a spiderman suit.
"hey babe" he starts with a slight smile, holding his mask in one hand and the other pressing firmly at his side, blood coming out of the wound. "I'm sorry to bother you-"
"pav you're bleeding, what happened?!" you frown, worried sick as you come closer to him to help him hold the wound, not even processing he's literally Spiderman. you scold him to sit on your bed, a hiss coming out of his lips. "wait here, I'm getting a aid kit"
you don't even wait for his response, running to the bathroom and getting everything that you needed. as you got back into your room, you could hear your heartbeat fastening with worry, breath hitching and fingers trembling holding the gauze as you kneel in front of him.
pavitr could read your body language and even sense the unhealthy amount of anxiety you were experiencing right now. "hey- hey, look at me" he placed his unbloodied hand on your cheek, making you look at his face. "it's okay, i'm okay... it'll be fine" his voice coming out soothing and making you stead your breath. "thank you for helping me, hot stuff" the nickname made you let out a brief laugh, being able to concentrate on doing the best bandage you could.
the second you were done with the bandage, you clean the other small cuts he had on his face and arms. you let out a sigh once you're done with the cleaning, looking at his eyes now. "I can't believe you addressed being spiderman as 'grown up responsibilities', really" you said casually, not yet being able to assimilate who your boyfriend was.
"it was the best i could come up with" he said with a chuckle, patting his side at the bed so you could sit up with him instead of kneeling on the ground. "you do sound a bit unimpressed" he leans back a little, his hands back on the bed for support.
"sorry, didn't have the time to freak out about you being a hero, was kinda busy with you dying from bleeding out" you said in a teasing manner, now analysing him in his suit. "that explains so much, actually... that's why i always found spiderman so attractive" you kept teasing him, now with a grin.
"so you have a crush on spiderman and didn't tell me?!" pav said faking offense laying his hand on his chest after a laugh burst out of him, arms coming to hold both your sides in a warm hug. you hug him back, careful with his wounds. "you know i'm gonna worry about you like, three times more, right?" you say, head buried on his neck, taking in his fresh scent.
"i know, but now i'll be three times more careful to come back unharmed to you" you could feel him smiling against your head. he leaned slightly back, making you look at his eyes, which was looking directly at your lips. you let out a small chuckle and kissed him slowly and softly, making him smile in the process.
as you remember you actually need to breathe, you reluctantly pull off, making pav whine jokingly. "nooo, i need more kisses from my sunshine to get better faster" you giggle, mumbling a 'good point' against his lips and taking his request, cuddling with him for the rest of the night.
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minami-ff · 1 year ago
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Tending to His Wounds
Levi x Reader
“your needlework is not as delicate- as you look”
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The aftermath of the latest mission left scouts battered and worn, none more so than Captain Levi. Trudging back to his office, he began to remove his scarlet-stained uniform, revealing an array of injuries beneath. Bruises adorned his body like dark constellations, and among them, a deeper slash on his abdomen oozed with fresh blood.
Just as he reached for the first aid kit, gentle knocks resonated through the door, creaking open and revealing your silhouette. "Captain?" you said softly with concern and cautiousness lacing your words, “apologies, I couldn’t help but notice your gushing wound earlier, and realised the infirmary is closed so I was wondering if I could be of assistance?”
Although your captain had offered you much guidance in trainings, you wouldn’t say you, let alone anyone else, were particularly close to him. His tough exterior and reserved demeanour left you uncertain about the kind of person he was. Hence, a twinge of worry crept in, nervous that he might not appreciate you trailing to his office to help.
To your pleasant surprise, Levi merely nodded. You then moved with a silent determination, fetching water, disinfectant, cloth, bandages, needle and thread from the kit.
As you cleaned the affected areas, the office was filled with a quiet intimacy. The only sounds were the hushed whispers of cloth against his skin and the occasional hiss of pain from Levi when you poked the needle through.
As your hands worked tenderly on his skin, a whisper of wind danced through the open window, gracefully sweeping your hair to the side. In that moment, your concentrated yet soft eyes amongst other gentle features were unveiled to Levi with a new clarity. Captivating him even further from the way you moved with such a light, almost ethereal quality.
"Your needlework is not as delicate- as you look," his tone gruff, enduring the stitching process, as he gritted his teeth through the pain.
You were taken aback by his unexpected comment, not sure if you were understanding it right. The corners of Levi’s mouth curved up, gracing you with a rare smile, to which you chuckled softly. "Looks can be deceiving, Captain."
Once the bandage was secured, you took a step back, eyes meeting his as you whispered. “You’re good to go.”
"Thank you," Levi said, with dark and unwavering eyes refusing to break the deep connection with yours. Intimidated by the intensity of it, your gaze shyly averted and wandered around for a second, before you timidly nodded. A small smile trembled on your lips, "anytime…"
As silence settled between the both of you, you shifted away from him to pack up the first aid kit, not expecting what he’d say next.
"You don't have to be so damn caring," Levi muttered, attempting to revert to his usual sternness. “When work is over, take your well-deserved rest, there’s no need to assist men with their problems at this time.”
His eyes subtly widened in response to your sweet smile, "perhaps I just like taking care of my friends."
Levi's gaze softened, a rare vulnerability surfacing in the depths of his steel-blue eyes. Friends — a term he seldom used, but in that moment, it felt almost right.
"Get some rest, Captain. We have a long day ahead," you suggested softly.
Levi inclined his head, watching as you disappeared into the hallway. The moment you both just shared would have him pondering about it for the days to come. Alone in the dimly lit room, he realised that healing wasn't just about tending to wounds; it was also about finding solace in the presence of those who offered an understanding to the depth of his scars.
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mischiefmaker615 · 5 months ago
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Now You See Me
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Summary: Apparently you find out your enemy is far better at.. manipulating the shadows 
Rating: *DARK* R 
Requester: @feelmysteel (wattpad)
‘’you think this will fucking hold me?’’ you snarl as you look upon your wrists, not necessarily seeing anything there other than a dark shadow on each. The feeling was cold, ghost like.. almost like when you stilled your hand in water until you moved to realize it was there.
You knew what this was, and you knew it well. Which is why they sent Loki himself to try to capture you. you both have been enemies from the start- almost a playful yet twisted relationship on how you both would flirt but then strike the next second one’s guard was down. a cat and mouse game you both took turns swapping in. by now, you almost could predict each other- until he got the upper hand this time against your power to manipulate the shadows.
‘’darling, I think you and I both know it’s not that simple.’’ Loki smirked, appearing out of the darkness as the spark in his eye made the shadows grip your wrists tighter to keep you still against the brick he had finally managed to corner you at. It was quiet, secluded and dark. An environment that could be used to both of your advantage if one of you wasn’t careful.
Your body tensed as you inhaled, trying to concentrate on drawing your own shadow powers for aid if the grip on your wrists wasn’t so distracting. It wasn’t until Loki held up a piece of cloth between both his long fingers that made you still for once, your eyes widened at the realization that he might have best you.
“countless times you’ve slipped through my fingers darling, countless times of reporting empty handed..’’ Loki said with a hushed tone, rubbing the piece of fabric between his fingers as he stalked forward, his fancy, undercover suit not even messed up from the chase. ‘’but tonight I have you.. and you won’t be escaping me again..’’
‘’you think you’re so powerful?? you’re just predictable-‘’ your words were cut short as Loki flicked his wrist, a flash of green sending the piece of fabric shooting through the air as it wrapped itself around your head, covering your eyes as you yelped in freight at the sudden action.
‘’predicable? How could I be predictable when you can’t even see what I’m doing?’’ he smirked as your heart rate picked up and your body tensed at being able to see absolutely nothing.
As your lips parted to speak, you felt his cold finger tips ghost your collarbone, gliding up slowly up your neck before you feel him rest his palm and fingers around your throat in a threatening grip.
‘’okay- okay you win..’’ you stutter as you swallow your pride as your arms try again to pull from the shadow restraints. ‘’take me to this TVA or whatever-‘’
‘’I plan to darling, indeed I do’’ he smirked, his eyes drinking you in with the advantage of you not being able to see or stop him. not that that’s stopped him before as his other hand slowly rose to rest against your hip. ‘’but we’ve been at this for a long time love, do you really feel like I’d hand you over so quickly? After all the work I’ve been put through, don’t I deserve.. a little something?’’
He sounded like he was almost talking to himself as his grip tightened ever so slightly, making you tilt your chin up as if it would help evade his grasp. ‘’with all your hard work- you’d probably get a raise or whatever.. -you.. you don’t need to do this-‘’ you whisper but something tells you, he’s not going to kill you.
‘’after all this time, after everything we’ve been through, I’ve always wondered something..’’ Loki spoke out loud as his hand removed itself from your throat to rest at your other hip, his thumbs rubbing against your jeans as you tried pressing yourself more into the building to evade him.
‘’I’ve always wondered.. on how you would taste..’’ he whispered, his lips ghosting your ear before you could feel the tip of his tongue stroke the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver.
‘’you wouldn’t fucking dare- mmph!’’ a cold sensation, almost feeling like a breeze brushed against your lips, pressing firmly to prevent you from opening your mouth to speak as your eyes widened behind the cloth. Another shadow has opted to cover your mouth.
‘’you’ve been nothing but trouble darling, we’ve both been at it countless times.. We’re similar, you and i.. predictable as you say? To each other’’ he smirked as his hands began stroking your covered hips before your body tensed to feel him beginning to grind his bulge against your center-
And by the gods he was packing..
‘’so perhaps this could be a way to draw a truce? A way where we both can just finally.. relax’’ his voice got dangerously low as his lips left slow, open mouth kisses behind your ear and slowly down your neck as you began struggling again with a string of cuss words being muffled out.
‘’and that’s exactly what I plan on getting you to do.. relax’’ he seemed to hush, almost as if lulling you into submission as you just began exhausting yourself with your struggles.
You even tried shaking your head, thrashing as the shadows held their cold and airy hold against you. how could you have let your guard down.. you were powerful, you knew how to manipulate and fight shadows for gods sakes! ..how long have you two been at it where he’s studied this much to finally have the upper hand! On the other, he was taking full advantage of the situation and you hated it.. you hated how you began feeling aroused.. even as you felt his hand leave your hip a moment just to be found opening the button of your jeans. Your body tensed and jerked.
‘’ah ah darling, I wouldn’t move to much or you’ll only stir me on to be relentless and cruel.. as you have’’ he smirked, flinching as you felt a nip at your collarbone and sensed his body moving elsewhere.
His body was so close to yours, you could almost feel his body heat traveling- sensing how he was now lowering himself to his knees before you with his hands firmly against your thighs to prevent you from kicking out.
‘’I promise I’ll be nothing but gentle.. if just tonight, you’ll be a good girl..’’ he whispered, his lips murmuring against your skin above your underwear, feeling his fingers glide up to grip your pants before pulling them down to stop above your knees. Probably to make kicking difficult compared to if he would have removed them completely. Clever bastard.
Your body tensed and shook, exhaustion overtaking you as you tried focusing on just breathing, searching through the dark but every bit of his touch would have you snapping out of your thoughts before you could even register an idea of escape.
‘’please.. don’t do this…’’ you begged, your words muffled but you were sure he could understand you in some way as his body disappeared from yours.
Not knowing where he was almost seemed to scare you more as your body tensed and began fighting again, your head shaking to try to rid of the damn blindfold before you felt a snap and the cold air of the night- finding your panties yanked off.
‘’that is the first time I’ve ever had you begging darling, I am well aware that it won’t be the last’’ he chuckled and you shiver as you felt his warm breath against your cunt, making you tense and try to thrash again as his hands planted themselves against your thighs, practically pinning them to the wall to immobilize you further. ‘’it just very much turns me on..’’ he seemed to growl before you felt the cold tip of his tongue run slowly against your cunt.
A gasp left your mouth, whether it could be heard or not as your body stiffened, almost as if you were paralyzed with your heart racing. This wasn’t happening was it?.. this was wrong.. so so wrong.. he’s your enemy! One whom you’ve fought with for years! Yet in some twisted, sick way, you found your head falling back against the wall, fists clenching as your eyes fluttered.
‘’you taste divine my darling.. more than I could have ever imagined..’’ he breathed, his thumbs stroking your bare skin as you felt his mouth dive back in as he ran his tongue against your clit.
You held back a moan, using every ounce of your remaining energy to try to at least pretend like you weren’t enjoying it but you both seemed to know that was a lie. Loki’s finger tips lightly ran up your thighs, your hips before finding their way down and behind you where he began kneading your ass, causing him to moan.
His moan was as if he had discovered pure ecstasy, causing a vibration right through you as you shivered and arched your back.
‘’gods Y/N.. you’ve got an angel’s as..’’ his eyes flicked up to you with a dangerous smirk, regardless if you could see him or not. ‘’yet demon’s eyes.. how could you be so cruel all these years.. teasing me so with all you’re perfection.. surely you must me the devil..’’ he whispered, his eyes darkening in that moment before his eyes were blown with pure lust and his body strained to hold his control.
Loki tilted his head ever so slightly as he used the tip of his tongue to tease your entrance, studying your body’s reactions before he decided to let loose just a little bit of his composure and plunged his tongue right into you with thorough thrusts.
You jolted as you squirmed and let out a moan finally, ashamed but the pleasure that built inside you made sure to forget about what was wrong or right in that moment. By the gods he was incredible and took his time, slowly building up your pleasure as if he had all the time in the world. his nails gently ran against your skin every now and again, increasing his force once and awhile as you could tell he was actually holding himself back for your sake.. why? He left little room for questions, feeling him grip your ass again and it would cause him to send another moan right through your cunt.
Dare you say if you weren’t restrained, you would have had your fingers fly into his gorgeous locks and hold on for dear life as your eyes closed and felt the tight knot forming in your pelvis and stomach. He ran his tongue up again and began suckling at your clit, stroking it with his tongue every now and again before your pussy began to clench against nothing. As if sensing it, he would run his tongue back down and plunge it into your core, earning moans and gasps before you began to feel your pleasure right at that edge.
‘’you’re going to cum for me Y/N, right now.. right on my tongue..’’ Loki breathed, almost sounding as if he were the one begging for it, the thought almost sending you off the glorious edge itself right then and there.
Your breath caught and your back arched before you felt his two fingers slowly slide into your cunt up to his knuckles while his tongue stroked your clit. That did it, and just as your orgasm began, light flooded into sight as the blindfold vanished and your eyes squeezed shut while your orgasm crashed.
‘’f-fuck!..’’ you cursed, pleasure consuming your body as you shook, realizing you could speak and see again as you squirmed and withered against his mouth, the only thing that mattered right now. You felt his long digits pumped into you, slowing down as he helped you ride it out while you twitched and gasped. Your eyes fluttered, dropping down to take in the sight before you-
Loki on his knees, his mouth attached to your cunt with pleasure drunk eyes while his hands wrapped around your thighs to push your ass forward so your cunt pressed more into his mouth. It was pure ecstasy and held your breath as you took him in at how beautiful he was right then and just as your pleasure was slowly ending, his eyes flicked up into yours.
It was almost like electricity striking your body at his gaze and you couldn’t help but hold it while your gasped for breath. He smirked as he slowly pulled away, sucking at his fingers as he rose to his full height before bending down slightly. His chin almost rested at your shoulder as you stayed frozen, feeling him grip your jeans and pulling them back up before returning to his full height again with a smug look in his eyes.
‘’glorious darling, and I do plan on tasting more..’’ he threatened and caught you in his arms as the shadows vanished from your wrists and had you drop forward.
Your arms ached, your body did as your cheeks reddened and you pushed against him to lean back at the wall, your body turning a little defensively as you tried to search for words, fumbling while he chuckled and took a few steps back.
‘’how about this darling, I’ll give you a 5 minute head start.’’ He smirked and his eyes flicked over your body again before returning to your eyes.
‘’make that 2...’’ 
Tag List: @foxherder  @asgards-princess-of-mischief  @fire-in-her-veinz
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matan4il · 1 year ago
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I'm gonna share a few thoughts.
>>> People who are very insistent (rightfully) that Hamas and the Palestinians are not the same, because it de-humanizes the latter, are the same people who take every quote an Israeli official makes about fighting Hamas, and attribute it as if it was said about fighting the Palestinians. It seems they're the ones who are conflating Hamas and the Palestinians, but only when it can be used to de-humanize Jews.
>>> The same people who rushed to provide the "context" that the Islamist terrorists massacred over 1,400 people in Israel on Oct 7 due to occupation, were very silent when two Swedish soccer fans were murdered by an Islamist terrorist in Belgium on Oct 16. The last time I checked, Sweden had never occupied any part of Tunisia. For that matter, Hamas murdered and kidnapped many foreigners working and studying in Israel. I'm also pretty sure Thailand, Nepal, China and the Philippines had never occupied Palestine.
>>> I've seen many people screaming that the number of aid trucks being brought into Gaza since Oct 7 is insufficient, because so far it has been less than 100 a day, and before Hamas' attack, it was 500 daily. These are the same people who have been comparing Gaza to a ghetto or concentration camp. I can't remember a single day when the Nazis allowed 500 aid trucks into the Warsaw Ghetto or the Dachau concentration camp.
>>> I've seen many people claiming that Israel warning the Palestinians to evacuate parts of Gaza is forced transfer. I did not see these people so much as acknowledging the existence of well over 500,000 Israelis, who have been evacuated due to Hamas and Hezbollah's on going attacks against Israel.
>>> These same people criticize Israel so much, did not post a single condemnation of Egypt, which refuses to allow Gazans a temporary refuge within its borders. Egypt has also used the "forced transfer" excuse to deny Palestinians a safe temporary shelter. When Ukrainians needed to leave their bombarded cities, I don't remember their neighboring countries refusing to accept them temporarily, because it would be "forced transfer."
>>> IDK if this anti-Israeli post has the worst take yet, but it is def a strong contender:
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The same people who can't bring themselves to condemn Hamas without reservations, to admit that it's a terrorist organization, with the stated genocidal goal of killing ALL JEWS, are the ones invoking the memory of the genocide perpetrated against Jews to try and get others to come out against the only Jewish state, and one that was very much a needed refuge place for about two thirds of Holocaust survivors after what they had endured. When Hamas has literally kidnapped and murdered Holocaust survivors and their family members. When countless Jewish people have pointed out that Hamas' massacre was the deadliest assault on Jews since the Holocaust, and made many of them be reminded of its horrors.
To take the memory of the Holocaust and use it to attack Jews, including Holocaust survivors and their families, and most of all, to do it based on a narrative that is completely ignorant or deliberately dismissive of Jewish native rights in Israel, is unconscionable. This person and those who agreed with them, they're guilty of exactly what they accuse others of. They've bought into the anti-Israeli propaganda that allows them to look at kidnapped Jewish babies and tear down their posters, to ignore Jewish students having to hide from anti-Israeli mobs, and to explain that the murdered Holocaust survivors deserved it, de-humanizing and victim blaming them a second time, just as the Nazis and their collaborators did.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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nakedbibi333 · 3 months ago
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Assumptions Harden Into Fact - Neville Goddard
In this lecture, Neville discusses how assumptions or beliefs are the basis of the law of assumption. He uses stories from the Bible that talk about manifestation “between you, the sleeping one, the deeper you, and the conscious waking you” otherwise known as the subconscious and the conscious minds. 
“Concentrate your attention upon the idea of identifying yourself with your ideal. Assume you are already that which you seek and your assumption, though false, if sustained, will harden into fact.”
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Creation is finished
“There is nothing to be that is not now. There is nothing to be created for all things are already yours, they are all finished.”
What you desire already exists within consciousness. You cannot imagine something if it is impossible, because the brain cannot create something that does not exist. Anything you can imagine already exists and therefore can manifest in the physical world.
“Your dimensionally greater Self has ways that the lesser, or three-dimensional you, know not of.”
Your inner man knows exactly how to bring your desires to fruition, you do not need to take any action or try to figure out how it will manifest physically.
You only need to assume that it is yours in order to manifest it, nothing else.
“Although man may not be able to stand physically upon a state, he can always stand mentally upon any desired state.” 
Even if you are not currently experiencing your ideal physical world, you can always access your ideal life through imagination.
“Remain in the mental state defined as your objective until it has the feeling of reality, and all the forces of heaven and earth will rush to aid its embodiment." 
As long as you persist in your fulfilled desires, it will manifest.
“In my Father’s house are unnumbered concepts of self”
You will never deplete the world of your desires, because they are infinite. 
There are an infinite amount of states you can occupy, so mentally prepare that state you desire to dwell in and then occupy it.
SATS
Neville calls SATS a “controlled waking dream”
The wish fulfilled should be achieved with minimal effort.
Experience the imaginal act that implies the fulfillment of your desire and the feeling of the wish fulfilled will come as long as you fully immerse yourself within this act.
Do not force the feeling, allow it to envelop you naturally.
“Know what you want. Then construct a single event, an event which implies fulfillment of your wish. Restrict the event to a single act.” or you can use the lullaby method, by reducing the fulfillment of your desire to a short and simple phrase. 
“Just relax and enter into the feeling of actually being what you want to be.” 
Don't overcomplicate or stress yourself out by wondering if you're doing it "right." It does not need to be super detailed. 
As long as what you are doing is implying to you that your wish is fulfilled, then you are doing it right.
“Refuse to enter into conversations that are unlovely, refuse to listen attentively to anything that tears down.” 
Do not pay attention to the 3D when it tries to show you things that do not align with your wish fulfilled. Ignore it and remember that the true reality is consciousness and what you experienced in imagination is the only truth there is
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Neville in most of his lectures uses stories from the bible that he believes explain, in an allegorical way, how to manifest. In this lecture, he discusses 4 different stories. I've broken down the most important points from those stories for clarity purposes. It may be easier to understand if you read the stories side by side with these notes.
The story of Pilate and the crucifixion of Jesus and Passover
“For desire is to confess that you do not now possess what you desire, and because all things are yours, you rob yourself by living in that state of desire”
“I cannot have and still continue to desire what I have. I may enjoy it, but I cannot continue wanting it”
This is another example of double-mindedness, or serving two masters (see previous lecture post). You cannot desire something you already have.
“Man is incapable of passing over from one state of consciousness into another unless he releases from consciousness that which he now entertains, for it anchors him where he is”
You must die to the old state in order to pass over to the new state. 
You cannot stay the same (with the same beliefs and thoughts) and also enter a new state. You must completely leave the old you behind and become your desired self.
Let go of previous beliefs that hinder you from fully entering your new beliefs.
“If at this very moment you have an unfulfilled ambition, then you are entertaining that which denies the fulfillment of the ambition, and that which denies it is Barabbas.” 
If you have a desire that you have not fulfilled within yourself, the only person denying the fulfillment of that desire is you. 
“You must now become identified with the ideal that you would serve, and you must remain faithful to the ideal.”
“You walk in the consciousness of being that which you want to be, no one sees it as yet, but you do not need a man to roll away the problems and the obstacles of life in order to express that which you are conscious of being.”
Release your old state (your old self) and replace that with your new state (your desired or ideal self)
Neville says that you will know that you changed your state when you look mentally at the people you know and notice a change in relationship. 
“We must imagine that others see us as they would see us were we what we desire to be”
If you successfully changed self, others will see you differently, they will see you as you desire to be seen.
Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane
The purpose of Neville explaining this story is to talk about the meditative state that you prepare in your mind before engaging in SATS or the lullaby method.
The garden is your “prepared mind” a calm, still state of mind in which you are drowsy and near sleep (basically SATS)
“All creation [...] takes place in the state of sleep, or that state which is akin to sleep”
In this garden, you die to your old conception of self and resurrect as your new ideal state.
Let go of your previous self-concept and create a new one and completely embody that.
Book of Joshua
Your consciousness has created everything you have. 
You do not stop manifesting, and you never “began” manifesting. You have always created the life around you. 
You can have all you desire, as long as you experience it in consciousness and believe that it is yours. 
“You are functioning three-dimensionally and you cannot seem to reach the fourth-dimensional world where your present desire is already a concrete objective reality. You cannot seem to reach it because your senses bar you from it. Reason tells you it is impossible, all things round about you tell you it is not true.”
Your inability to grant reality upon imagination and placing too much emphasis on conditions, reason, and the physical world is keeping you from experiencing the true fulfillment of all your desires. Since you believe it is impossible, you have made it so.
Rahab
No one can see your internal world, no one can see your imagination. 
“You have within you the capacity to appropriate a state without knowing the means that will be employed to realize that end and you assume the feeling of the wish fulfilled without having any of the talents that ment claim you must possess in order to do so.”
“Satisfy self by appropriating the feeling that you are what you want to be”
However, you seem to notice that the physical you is not satisfied until it comes to be, until it’s physically manifested.
The Sabbath: “the state when man is completely unmoved in his conviction that the thing is. When I can assume the feeling of my wish fulfilled and go to sleep, unconcerned, undisturbed, I am at rest mentally, and am keeping the Sabbath” (persisting)
Circumstances will work themselves out, barriers will be moved, and countless events will happen in order to make your desire real in the physical world.
You will never lose your ability to manifest, it will always be yours.
The Book of Numbers
Man is the temple of god and man’s imagination is the well from which all things grow.
“Assume the feeling of the wish fulfilled and go to sleep in this mood”
“The sensation which dominates the mind of man as he falls asleep, though false, will harden into fact.”
Neville believes that this sensation before sleep (the state akin to sleep or SATS) is the way that the conscious man can access the subconscious mind easiest. Falling asleep to an imaginal act (or lullaby - affirmations such as “isn’t it wonderful”) that implies the fulfillment of your desire is how you manifest.
“But we have a living tabernacle wherein God dwells [man is the temple of God], and it is covered with a cloud which can and does ascend when we go to sleep or are in a state akin to sleep [man can use imagination to access consciousness and become that which he desires]. Not necessarily in two days, it can ascend in two minutes. Why did they give you two days? If I now become the man I want to be, I may become dissatisfied tomorrow. I should at least give it a day before I decide to move on.”
Persistence is important because the outer world (conditions, reason, etc) can influence us to falter sometimes. We must return to the wish fulfilled when this happens and continue to be faithful to that.
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brewstersbru · 1 year ago
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I want to get more used to writing low stakes lil blurbs so please enjoy this, also posted on ao3 under my pseud brewstersbru :) hopefully being able to post it here will bring the perfectionism anxiety down lol
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Astarion is perhaps the one of the most interesting, irritating, but somehow undoubtedly kind people Halsin has ever observed. Though he’d flay anyone who had the audacity to tell him it.
The duties of an Arch-Druid are many, and often arduous in nature, but nonetheless rewarding. And it all boils down to watching, observing, noticing little idiosyncrasies in the people he leads. The people who trust him with their lives and wellbeing. Halsin has become well-accustomed to watching, as any good leader must and it is no surprise that the skill has followed him to where he is now, camping with a menagerie of illithid-infected souls, searching for a cure.
Though, with this aforementioned observational skill, Halsin has gotten the distinct impression that many of them seek quite a bit more than a simple cure. Absolution, freedom, a clearer path forward. It is so often in the words they don’t say, rather than those they choose to reveal. For example, Gale never talks of an ‘after’, a concept all of the others seem so enamored with, save Astarion, of course. He simply hums and offers a small melancholy smile when conversation turns to the topic of everyone’s plans after they find a cure. It wasn’t difficult to figure him out, not when Halsin had been paying attention. Gale is convinced that dying is the only way to atone for his sins. To be forgiven.
Halsin’s heart aches at the thought; poor child, it is not a sin to wish to be loved. But he digresses.
Astarion, curiosity that he is, had immediately captured Halsin’s attention when he’d joined camp. On the surface he seemed shallow, and ill-tempered, but Halsin has not gotten this far in life by making quick judgements on a person’s first actions after he’s met them. Sure enough, he’d caught a glimpse of the real Astarion not even two days later.
It had been a long day, brimming with long, arduous battles after which they had all come out exhausted and bloodied. Wyll, with his lion’s heart, had fought especially ferociously. Perhaps too much so. His robe was torn horribly across the front and he’d had to be propped up as they trudged back to camp, unfortunately neither Halsin nor Shadowheart had maintained enough energy to heal anyone.
Astarion had almost immediately wedged himself under Wyll’s arm, curling an arm around his waist while also berating him as they walked. “What in the hells were you thinking jumping out like that! You’re weak, leave the feats of strength to Karlach you dolt!” And on and on. The words were cutting, and not entirely fair, but still, his hands remained gentle against his friends skin and he walked slowly so as not to jostle his injuries.
Shadowheart- exhausted herself, likely with a beast of a headache after all of the concentration spells she’d been slinging- had told Astarion to shut it, only hearing the words and not the worry behind them. He had obliged- another kindness-as his eyes darted around the scrunched pain painted over her expression and his own expression set in resolve. Still, he performed a pout, and everyone took it for what it was- or rather, what he’d wanted them to take it for: Astarion being his usual surly self.
Halsin took it for what it truly was, a man doing his best to aid his friends and keep their spirits high after such a grueling encounter. He’d thought they needed someone to direct their exhausted irritation at, lest they start picking themselves apart instead (something Halsin had noticed, but was unaware Astarion knew of) and offered himself like it was as natural as breathing.
The kindnesses didn’t stop there, either. When they made it to camp he’d taken Wyll to his bedroll as the others collapsed onto their own. Rummaged through the camp supplies until he found a potion of greater healing, then did not feed it to Wyll until he was half asleep and delirious.
“Mmh… Dad?” Wyll had murmured, eyes squinted closed as he moved his head around. Astarion had simply hummed and continued feeding him the potion.
For the rest of the night he prepped ingredients with practiced efficiency and left them next to the communal cooking pot for when the rest of the party woke for breakfast. Halsin had needed to trance for a few hours, loathe as he was to turn away from the scene, and when he returned Wyll’s robe had been mended, folded and placed aside his head. Astarion was nowhere to be seen. Halsin hoped he’d found his way to his own tent for a short trance.
Elves do not need to sleep, this much is true, but even a short trance would have done wonders to refresh and replenish his energy. Astarion had to know that.
Halsin is still unsure what the other elf had done for the rest of that night, but he’d emerged from his tent with just as much practiced, haughty vigor as he’d always had halfway through breakfast the next morning.
“Astarion! Good morning! Thank you for aiding me in our trek back yesterday.” Wyll had smiled at him, something warm and molten in his eyes. Astarion simply huffed and waved it off, “Well, dear, someone needed to lecture you about the dangers of heroism. None of these dimwits were going to do it.” Wyll smiled and the others gave halfhearted protests from where they’d been digging into the breakfast Gale had prepared from the ingredients Astarion had left out for him. There was a sparkle in his eye as he caught sight of them eating it, something almost like pride, if Halsin had to name it.
The others had been dumbfounded, asking around the campfire about who had done it. When no one came forward they’d simply shrugged and taken it to mean that the culprit was too humble to take credit. Besides, who were they to question a miracle such as this. No one asked the vampire if he’d done the deed, why would he have? He doesn’t eat food anymore and he doesn’t even really like them.
It’s exactly what he wants them to think. Halsin has to give him points for his dedication to maintaining pretense. Wyll doesn’t mention his robe, but his eyes dart from hand to hand trying to scrutinize any bandages or pricks that might indicate a late-night sewing session. It’s a smart move on his part but Astarion, it seems, is a masterful tailor. His fingers are unbandaged and unbloodied.
Everything carefully thought out and executed. Every kindness meticulously planned and hidden. He truly is an enigma. He would rather his friends believe him selfish and cruel, than see him for the gentle, caring man he truly is.
The kindnesses continue, always carefully implemented so as to erase any and all suspicion that Astarion may have had any part in it. He continues to be outwardly difficult and mean so as to cover his tracks. Halsin can do little but watch, as he always has, that is, until Astarion’s little kindnesses eventually and inevitably extend to him, too.
He is not so easily fooled, has seen past the performance that the other man puts on for some reason that he is still trying to parse.
It’s a quiet evening, the battles of the day had been hard, but nothing they were ill-equipped to handle. The shadow curse has been getting to Halsin, though. Seeing his greatest failure in all of it’s unbearable misery has been weighing on him. And he knows his struggle is not invisible to his fellow party members. They seem unsure what to do about it, though, seeing as he is a centuries old former Arch-Druid with life experience they could hardly fathom. He enjoys his time at camp but cannot say with certainty that he is truly close to anyone there. Though he wishes to be, he is afraid they’ve placed him on somewhat of a pedestal after his actions in the grove, forgetting that he is fallible and full of emotion, same as them.
He very nearly misses it, when it happens, too caught up in his thoughts to hear the slight shuffling near the entrance to his tent. Thankfully, he doesn’t, and emerges with a small smile.
Astarion freezes at the sound of his emergence, crouched over something small and wooden at his feet. Then, almost as if possessed, his shoulders relax and he looks up with a devilish grin. “Halsin! My dear, I was just looking for you. Some wretched little thing of a child has gifted me with perhaps the ugliest wooden duck I’ve ever had the misfortune of laying my eyes on. And these things are in no way ‘beautiful’ on a good day. I cannot have something so… distasteful loitering around my tent. You mentioned you liked ducks so I thought it would be of better use here. Otherwise I’m throwing it in the river.” It’s a lot of words, more than the vampire generally tends to use in casual conversation, as much as he pretends he’s an insufferable chatterbox. That’s the second clue Halsin gets that perhaps there’s more to this than Astarion is telling him. The first being the way he froze, as if he hadn’t been expecting Halsin to be there. “Looking for you”, right…
Astarion stands and nods at the duck on the ground. It’s small, a little misshapen, but it’s got hearts carved where it’s eyes should be and for some reason Halsin finds that hopelessly endearing. He kneels and cradles the thing gently in his cupped palms.
When he looks up Astarion is grinning at him, still in that sneering performative way he likes to, but in his eyes that shine of pride makes itself known. Halsin likes the duck, it’s obvious. And Astarion is proud of himself, but he’ll never tell. He’ll never let anyone else be.
The third clue is dripping sluggishly down Astarion’s finger, stark and red against his deathly pale skin. Halsin remembers the first time he’d whittled. His hands had looked much of the same. He smiles.
“Thank you, Astarion. This is very good. Would you like some salve for your hand?”
Astarion’s eyes widen, only fractionally, but noticeable if you’d been looking in his eyes. And Halsin had been. Still, his expression shutters and he pastes another smirk on before turning his nose up at the duck.
“Thank the Gods, that ugly thing is your problem now. And I’ve no idea what you mean dear, my hand is perfectly serviceable.” He rushes away with a perfunctory wave, likely to rob Halsin of the opportunity to call him out on his bullshit. Halsin only smiles and cradles the duck. He’d bloodied his hands for this, for him. The surge of affection that washes through him is entirely involuntary but wholly welcome.
Astarion wakes from his trance the next morning to a gift settled gently at the entrance of his tent. It’s a wooden cat, masterfully carved from a dark oak and undeniably beautiful. Perfectly fitting the vampire’s tastes and sensibilities.
A note lies beside it in what he recognizes to be Halsin’s messy scrawl.
Thank you, Astarion, again for the duck. It thrills and delights me to know that you care. It did make me feel better, you know, and I still have that salve if you need. All you have to do is ask. I thought I’d return the favor, seeing as you do so much for the camp but refuse to let anyone see it, or thank you.
I see you. I thank you.
Yours,
Halsin
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