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togenabi · 8 months

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apothecary diaries

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x fem!reader

♡—you need peppermint for a salve you're making, but sanji bought all of it, and that's seriously not fair.

word count♡— 3.7k

genre♡— fluff

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader runs an apothecary and likes to make things, inaccurate chemistry for the sake of the story, mentions of flames in bottles, please do not do that, no use of y/n, not fully proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— I love sanji sm he makes me cry. might be first in a series, but we'll see. please enjoy. xoxo, belle.

The third time a pirate entered your shop, you genuinely considered closing up early today.

You level him with a stare despite the man being twice your size. You cut him off before he can get a word out.

“No, I don't have anything that works against people made of rubber.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you gesture to the rest of your wares. “Now, are you going to get anything else? Or should you be on your way?”

He leaves, disgruntled, but without a fight.

A huff escapes your lips. The nerve of these people.

Ever since that outrageous bounty for that new pirate came along, suddenly every pirate and pirate hunter in the East Blue was gearing up to chase after him. All the poisons that were gathering dust in your storage were cleared out within days of those posters showing up.

It was good berry at first, but they got more aggressive, and started demanding more of everything. More doses than you were comfortable handing out. More dangerous poisons that could kill everyone in the room if the seal loosens by even a crack.

You took up this apothecary business because you wanted to help people. It wasn't exactly your dream to become a poison dealer.

The shop bell rings again. Thankfully, this time it's one of your elderly neighbors and not a pirate seeking poison.

The old lady smiles at you, the sides of her eyes crinkling. “You seem to be quite busy these days, dear.”

“If only they were paying customers like you, Ma'am.” You pick up a box of loose tea from the shelf, already knowing her usual order.

She gasps in concern. “Oh my, did they steal from you?”

“Only my time.” You grimace slightly, remembering how many pirates barged in last week.

“Would you like some honey with this? We have fresh jars from today's shipment.” You offer as you tally her order.

The lady hums in agreement. “Yes, I think some honey would be lovely.”

During slow days like these, you like to tinker with new recipes to sell. On a desk at the very back of the shop, obscured by thick curtains, is your beloved workstation.

You review your notes from the previous day. You'll need to get some peppermint for the healing salve you're developing. Taking a small jar of the experimental paste, you test a small amount on your hand.

Indeed, it needs more peppermint. Maybe you should use extract instead of crushed leaves next time, so that the texture is smoother.

The problem arises when your go-to herb supplier says he's run out of peppermint.

“Please tell me you're kidding.” You groan, looking down at your sadly empty whicker basket.

“M’sorry, lass.” The vendor shrugs, not looking very sorry at all. “You just missed the guy who bought everything. I promise I'll get you your peppermint next week, though.”

Resigned, you sigh, reading through the rest of your shopping list. The salve, at least, can wait a week as it's still a work in progress. The rest of your list, however, are crucial ingredients for your usual bestsellers.

“Fancy looking lad. He asked about spices. Told him to go to the shops down by the river.”

Your stomach drops. Everything else you need are sold by those shops.

Mentally cursing that vendor, you run as fast as your feet can take you. You're not letting some tourist get the better of you when it comes to ingredients.

You reach the river in record time. You'd feel proud if you didn't feel winded. Even so, you scan the road for anyone matching the tourist's description.

There doesn't seem to be anyone remotely fancy around. Triumphant, you go on with your shopping.

You begin to feel better as you cross more things off your list. You've almost forgotten about the peppermint incident, if only you didn't suddenly smell so much of it pass by.

A tall blond man walks by, clearly doing a lot of shopping based on the boxes of supplies he's carrying. The scent of peppermint hits you again. In a paper bag, at the very top of the boxes, you spot bunches of those leaves you've been so desperate for.

You can only clench your jaw in frustration and frown at the back of his head. He purchases a large amount of meat and fish in the next stall, and you gather that he must be some sort of chef. No normal person buys so much meat that the shopkeep offers to deliver everything. But that's what happens to this fancy looking lad. He must not be normal then.

“Yes, my ship's in the docks. You can't miss it, thank you so much for your help.” He smiles. His blue eyes wander the stall, then travel to the next stall over, where you are.

There's a moment of surprise when he finds you already looking at him, but his expression changes instantly into a suave one. It almost makes you want to back away, but you stand your ground when he approaches.

“Aren’t you stunning? I was feeling tired, but your pretty face woke me right up.”

You turn away, pointedly ignoring him. He can't flirt with you while smelling like peppermint. It's just not fair.

“Sorry for the hold up, lass. What's it you need?” The shopkeep you were waiting for shows up just in time. You continue to not pay the blond beside you any attention.

“Cinnamon and salt, please.” You respond. “Pink, if you have any.”

“I'll have the same, good sir.” Fancy pants says. “Though, my salt doesn't need to be pink.”

As the shopkeep rummages through his supplies, the blond continues to speak to you. Why does he keep speaking to you?

“Pink salt is lovely to look at, same as you,” He begins, “But other than the color, there really isn't a difference to normal salt, isn't there?”

He shrugs, his broad shoulder shifting his suit jacket slightly. “You're paying extra for the same result. It's all the same when you cook it.”

“I'm not using it for cooking.” Is your only response.

The shopkeep returns before the stranger can reply. “Here's the salt for you's.” He hands you a bag of pink rock salt, and the stranger a bag of regular salt.

The dread from the peppermint vendor returns when you realize the shopkeep is holding only one bag of cinnamon. He pats it and says, “I could split it so you both get half.”

“I was here first.” You insist desperately. “Sell it to me.”

“...My hands are tied here, lad.” The shopkeep sells you the cinnamon, and it's quickly tucked into your basket when you get your hands on it. The stranger doesn't barter for it. Good.

And with that, you cross out cinnamon and salt from your shopping list. You were able to get everything except the peppermint, which stays neat and legible at the very top of the list.

You crumple the paper and toss it into a nearby bin before making your way back to your shop.

“Are you on your way to get some peppermint?” How did the stranger catch up with you so quickly?

“No.” No matter how much you wish you were.

You try to walk faster, but his pace is steady even with a large box under one arm and several others tied up with twine held in his other hand.

“But it was on your list.” He seems to be very interested in your dealings. Is he always this dedicated when he flirts?

You cross the bridge that arches over the river together. The townsfolk who recognize you and not the man next to you begin to whisper amongst themselves.

It takes everything in you to resist rolling your eyes. After a week of pirates, you suspect your shop will be full of gossiping neighbors soon.

“A certain someone bought all the best peppermint today.” Of course the scent of it wafts over you again as you say so.

“Ah.” Understanding dawns on his face. “I see, I'm sorry if that inconvenienced you.”

It was your turn to shrug. You were about to say that it was okay, but then remember that you wouldn't be able to complete your salve until next week.

You pout before you can help it. “Did you really have to buy all of it?”

He breathes out a laugh. “I normally wouldn't, but my friends tend to have endless appetites. It always pays to have plenty of supplies.”

Even in the middle of the bustling street, a certain group of strangers stand out. They're gathered outside the tavern. You don't know any of them, but you recognize one of them as that infamous new pirate with the exorbitant bounty on his head.

“Speaking of my friends...” The blond trails off, nodding towards that particular group.

You just about stop in your tracks. He's with them? He's a pirate?

Okay. A rich, flirtatious tourist you could deal with. A random pirate crew? You would probably still be fine.

But the crew with the highest bounty in all the East Blue? That's just asking for trouble to happen.

While the stranger is distracted by his friends, you slip into an inconspicuous alleyway. You'd have to go a little further around to reach your shop, but that's alright as long as you avoid those Straw Hat pirates.

Luck seems to not be on your side, though. Because fancy pants shows up to your shop later that evening.

He grins. “You didn't tell me crossing that bridge together meant something. I would have talked about something more romantic than peppermint if I knew.”

Of course, word travels fast in a small town. You should have known someone would tell him. And that he would be able to find you easily if he wanted.

“How does the legend go, again?” He asks teasingly. “If two people cross the bridge together on the day they meet... Theirs souls are bound.”

“It's a myth.” You dismiss his charming grin and try to ignore him.

He leans his elbows on the counter that separates you. He's hunched down, but still towers over you somehow.

“It's romantic. And I'm glad it happened to us.” He smiles. “May I at least know the name of the person my soul is now bound to? Mine's Sanji.”

“Well, Sanji. Are you going to buy something?” You ask and avoid giving him your name.

Sanji, surprisingly, nods. He grabs two cans of your special handmade tea and a large jar of honey.

“I'll buy these,” He places the items on the counter. “And give you this.” He holds out several sprigs of peppermint. You blink at him in surprise.

“...Thank you.” You gingerly take it, and carefully set it to the side.

You're silent while you ring up his order. It's when you're taking out a paper bag for him that you finally cave and reveal your name.

The smile that blooms on Sanji's face isn't how you expected it would be. You expected him to look arrogant, to look proud that he was able to sway you like he did other women before.

But he looks at you sweetly, dimples showing and eyes sparkling. You wordlessly hand over the paper bag.

“A pleasure, darling.”

You would have thought that would be the last time you saw Sanji. But, be it luckily or unfortunately, he finds you the next day with the rest of the Straw Hats tagging along.

Only this time, they seem to be on the run.

You hold open the door for the Straw Hats and, one after another, they flood into your shop. Sanji smiles and says something about your hair, but you can't process the words with his friends scattering to hide.

“Sanji, what the fuck?”

“I know, I know, love. I'm sorry we had to reunite like this. We just need to lay low for a bit.” He reassures you, caressing your shoulders as he does.

“I'll make it up to you! I'll cook you a romantic, candlelit dinner.”

You frown at him, unimpressed.

Sanji kisses his teeth and sighs. “I'll give you the rest of the peppermint.”

You perk up instantly. “Deal. You can all hide in my workstation.”

“Hi, I'm Luffy!” Their captain greets you jovially. “That's Zoro,” Luffy points to the swordsman. “Nami,” The woman. “And Usopp.” The one hiding under your counter.

“Of course, you know Sanji already, being soulmates and all.”

You trip on nothing, and Sanji grabs your hand to steady you. You glare. He just smiles.

“Your shop is really cool!” Luffy exclaims, looking at all the trinkets on the shelf.

“Thanks.” You say dryly, pushing the curtain partition aside. You lead them to the back of the shop.

“Make yourselves at home.” You wave a hand towards the couch and some chairs around your desk. They should be fine here as long as they don't need to stay the night.

Through the gaps in the window blinds, flashlights and shadows stream into the room. There seems to be an active search party out for these guys. You suddenly can't believe you agreed to this for peppermint.

Zoro, whose three earrings glint in the light, shifts to scratch at his chest. You spot bandages from the gap in his shirt.

You grab the small jar of salve from your desk and toss it to him. He catches it, but looks from the jar to you and back, confused.

“It's a healing salve I made. It should help soothe your skin.” You explain.

The swordsman still looks unsure, but opens the jar anyway. Zoro sniffs its contents, and tries putting a small amount on his chest.

You beam at him, unable to help feeling proud at how his shoulders visibly relax after using it.

“Thanks.” Zoro says simply.

“No problem.” You nod back, still smiling.

Luffy looks at the jar as if it's a miraculous cure-for-all. “That's amazing.”

“It smells really good, too.” Usopp says, sniffing at the air around Zoro.

“Do you sell that here?” Nami asks.

“I will, once I make more.” You answer. You never realized how uplifting it was to share your work with new people.

Subconsciously, you turn to Sanji. But, why is he frowning? You follow your gaze to find he's looking at the jar in Zoro's hand.

Before you can ask him if anything is wrong, Luffy bursts out excitedly, "You're a doctor! You should join our crew!"

You wince. “No, I'm a chemist.”

“Cool!” Luffy's enthusiasm does not wane. “So you can heal, right?”

You're about to correct him before they assume things out of your pay grade when Usopp claps his hands in realization.

“She's even better than a doctor!” Usopp insists. “She makes the medicine that the doctors give out!”

Just as you were about to interfere with how much they were overestimating your skills, the shop bell rings. You turn to the clock. Shit, you should have locked up twenty minutes ago.

You meet everyone's eyes and they all nod, understanding that they need to be quiet. You switch off the lights in the back room for good measure.

The customer is a pirate you've never seen before. He looks angry, glaring at every possible hiding spot in your shop. Particularly the room you just came from.

You're careful to completely shut the curtain behind you.

“How can I help you, sir?” You put on your best customer service smile. “I was just about to close the shop, but if it's urgent, I'll help you find what you need.”

The pirate grunts. He's not buying what you're selling at all.

“Perhaps some calming tea? You look like a refined gentleman who would enjoy this.” You hold up a can of tea as if that will help you seem less suspicious.

“What's behind the curtain?” He points behind you accusingly.

“My work area, where I make all the fine products you see before you.”

Stomping forward, he seems to have had enough of your stalling. Fine.

Just as he's about to bash his fist down onto your counter, you grab a suspicious looking dark jar. You hold it up threateningly.

“The hell is that?!” The pirate snarls.

“Haven't you heard? I'm the go-to poison dealer in all the East Blue.” You bluff. “A whiff of this, and you'll sink like a rock, my friend.”

He freezes, but glares at you more fiercely. You pretend to twist the lid.

“Y-you'll kill yourself too, then!” He barks back. “Let's see your bullshit poison then.”

“Oh, but that's what makes me so brilliant.” You grin, laying the act on thick. “I'm immune to all the poisons I make.”

Your hand settles ominously on the lid. “Shall we test who survives?”

The pirate scrambles to leave. He's out before you can blink. Without missing a beat, you lock the front door and draw all window blinds down.

You rest your back against the door. Letting out a loud exhale, you almost let yourself slide down to the floor. How long do you have to deal with pirates like that?

Thoughts of yesterday with Sanji at the market fill your thoughts. If only all days could be like that, where the worst of your problems had been a peppermint shortage.

“You guys can come out, now.” You call out to the Straw Hats.

“Uh... Is that really poison?” Usopp asks, staying very far away from the jar.

You laugh, though it comes out airy due to your tiredness. “No, those are just some herbs I left to ferment.”

“How brilliant of you, love.” Sanji is beside you in a few strides. Him and those long legs.

“Was he the one you guys were hiding from?” You ask. The crew members shake their heads.

“No, actually.” Nami says. “We were hiding from a bunch of—”

Your shop explodes.

Sanji is quick to pull you into his arms and shield you from the debris with his own body. For a minute that feels like eternity, you can't hear anything. Your ears are ringing, and dust clouds over all your years of hard work. You sob into Sanji's arms.

“No!” You cry out.

Marines step into the shop, wood planks cracking and glass panels shattering under their feet. There are so many of them. You don't understand. Even if you hid the Straw Hats here, they shouldn't be allowed to destroy private property, right? Right?

“We got a report of illegal poisons in the area.” The leading officer states, his face stoic. “Just our luck that we run into pirates as well.”

You look to the Straw Hats, all of them are positioned to fight, save for Sanji. He's still cradling you protectively.

Taking a shaky deep breath, you lift your hand to rest it on Sanji's arm. He instantly looks down at you, silently asking if you're alright.

You're not yet, and if you're being honest, you'd rather stay in his arms until everything is over. But you nod anyway. Sanji gently lets you go and gets ready to face your new enemies.

“Get them all.”

Chaos breaks, and you run to duck behind a shelf that toppled over. The Straw Hats put up a good fight, but there are just too many Marines. Your eyes find round bottles of herbs scattered around you, and you come up with an idea.

“Guys!” You yell. “Buy me some time!”

“Anything for you, darling.” Sanji winks at you before sending a Marine flying. You gape at his audacity. The rest of them don't even react, but you notice they rotate slightly, surrounding you to keep you from being interrupted.

Grabbing as many of the bottles as you can, you stuff them with shards of wood and more dried leaves. You take rocks from the debris and strike them together.

With a few sparks, the herbs and leaves catch fire. You act fast, throwing the bottles at the Marines.

The bottles shatter, bursting into flames once they hit their mark. The Marines panic and become disoriented, giving the Straw Hats an advantage despite being outnumbered.

Eventually, the Marines run and scatter, leaving only the few bravest of them to fight. The Straw Hats make quick work of them.

When the battle is over, you watch the dust settle over the ruins of your apothecary. It's going to take years to earn enough berry to restore how everything once was. You can't help but feel heartbroken.

Sanji sits down in the rubble next to you, wrapping you in another embrace. You let yourself fall into him.

“We'll help you get everything back. I promise.” He swears, voice slightly muffled into your hair.

“Or, you could come with us! Join our crew!” Nami hits Luffy on the shoulder.

“What? It's true!” Luffy insists. “We need someone like her!”

You pull back from Sanji's embrace to look at him. He doesn't say anything, but something tells you he wishes for you to come with them. The others look at you expectantly as well.

No one speaks to persuade you further. But when you compare this rag-tag team to your ruined apothecary, your answer suddenly feels very clear. If you're to slave away to earn the berry for rebuilding your home, why not spend that time with them?

The back of the shop is less affected, even if the sight is still dreadfully sad. Your notes are thankfully intact, and you're able to find a bag and shove some extra clothes into it. It saddens you that you're so quick to pack up your life, but you'll come back. Someday.

When you return to the others, they're all smiling. Sanji more so, but you should have expected that.

He holds out his hand, and you reach out to take it.

“I change my mind,” You jest. “I'll take that romantic candlelit dinner now.”

Sanji laughs loudly while he guides you to walk over the rubble safely. You catch some of the others laughing too, but they walk a ways ahead you and Sanji.

“Like I said,” He says with his signature grin, “Anything for you, my dear.”

Your mind must be playing tricks on you, because he still smells like peppermint. Now, that's really not fair.

#vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji x reader #opla vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla spoilers #opla x reader #opla sanji x y/n #sanji oneshot #sanji imagine #opla #togenabi-writes #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x you

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luvring · 9 months

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UNIVERSITY WITH AKAASHI

gn!reader | no more posts set in high school!! time for everyone to grow up! /j

university student akaashi who you meet in an english/writing course. he stands in front of your spot and nervously fiddles with the sleeves of his jacket, hoping you notice him and look up. "um," he hesitates. "is anyone sitting next to you?"

maybe it's because he's just so pretty, but you think it's cute how he visibly relaxes when you shake your head and move to let him sit beside you.

university student akaashi who quickly becomes your go-to classmate after being paired for icebreakers and luckily exchanging contact info during your first class. you think it's too early to call him your friend, but he softly laughs at your explanation during two truths and one lie, and you hope that title will come easier by the end of the semester.

akaashi who, after a week, finally gains the courage to ask if you're busy after class today. a sequel he's been anticipating is supposed to be in stock now, and if you'd like to join him on a bookstore trip, he'd like the company. you, of course, agree, and he smiles and softly says, "thanks."

you ask him to explain the plot on your trip there and he's embarrassed, stumbling over his words and having to backtrack to explain lore, but happy nonetheless. he's going in-depth about his favourite character's development by the time you reach the store, and you don't think you'd ever have it in you to stop him from talking.

you wonder if it would be weirder if you looked for a copy of the first book yourself.

akaashi who always seems to have some sort of caffeinated drink when he walks into the afternoon class. he says he's tired by lunch time and it'll keep him awake. you nod. "what's life but treating yourself every once in a while?"

he snickers, even if he's making fun of himself when he asks, "you mean every day?"

"obviously. uni's hard, we deserve it," you tease with a nudge to his shoulder.

the next class, he's bought you a snack you mentioned enjoying. he fiddles with his straw, stirring the ice inside his cup while your face heats up. he repeats your words from a couple days before, "you deserve it."

akaashi who knows you despise the idea of peer reviews and having to read feedback. it's why you let out a breath of relief when the professor tells you you can choose your partner, and by the time you turn, keiji's already looking at you.

you quadruple check everything before sending the document, and take 30 minutes alongside coaxing texts from keiji himself before you manage to open the edited version the day after.

it takes you a second to realize, but your breath hitches when you do. he's taken the time to make a copy of his feedback with little compliments and doodles of him, like one doing a thumbs up next to a "great point :)", another clapping beside your conclusion saying "you did it :-) !", and one sitting on top of a paragraph just to make you smile.

when you thank him the next day, your face is warm, and his face is red. your eyes flicker over to him playing with the hair by his ear while he promises he'd do it again any time you needed.

akaashi who you've come to find out isn't just the quiet, pretty, smart guy in class. he's also the guy you often find yourself on call with at 11pm, hair messy and glasses drooping on his nose. he apologizes for his state and the fact that he's wearing a shirt with a sort of shitty collage of low quality cat images, and you’re barely holding in your laugh while you shake your head and reassure him it's fine.

you have to tell him to at least add something to the noodles he keeps eating during exam week, and threaten to block him when he teases you for the incoherent questions you stutter out at 1am. in return he checks on you when he sees you listening to your sad playlist, and lets you see the other shirts he's gotten over the past couple of years.

you beg him to tell you where he found the one of an english setter with "dog setter" written on it, and he asks why you want to copy him.

"i just...love your style so much, keiji. it's so bold and creative—camp, even."

and keiji laughs, really laughs, trying and failing to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. even with his smile covered, you watch his eyes crinkle and can't help but secretly raise your headphones' volume, just a little.

"yeah, okay, thanks." he laughs a little one more time. "if you do well on your exam, i'll bring it the next time we meet up so you can try it," he offers with an amused smile.

"really? you'd let me have the honour?"

keiji rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair, tilting his head while looking at you. he runs his fingers through his hair and it's really more attractive than it should be.

"yeah, of course," he promises.

it's a silly shirt, and a silly idea, but your heart rate quickens just a little at the thought of him sharing his clothes.

and keiji is glad you can't see his other hand fiddling with the bottom hem of his shirt, because secretly, he feels the same way, too.

sorry for the Blatant projection when i said u don't like reading feedback. that's actually just me. it's bad. whatever. this was actually fun OMG i love akaashi and hate uni fr . we as a community must talk abt charas in uni more. Please. for my happiness.

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired

#haikyuu x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #haikyuu fluff #this could actually still work for hs depending on ur hs #um. LOL. i just like imagining them my age instead 🫶#x reader

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bivht · 4 months

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Moon Sign in the Persona Charts Observations

Idk why but I’m obsessed with looking at moon signs. The moon sign traits are always the most noticeable to me

🎒People that have that look-at-me factor may have Leo moon in the moon pc or venus pc. If in Moon pc, they can attract attention just by breathing. With Venus pc it’s more like they have to be interacting, talking with another person for people to notice them. Because Venus is about relations. Both stand out in center positions.

🎒If someone’s moon sign is the same as your mercury sign in the moon/mercury/venus/mars pc, they understand each other quite well. The moon will appreciate the mercury’s way of expressing themselves and the mercury finds the moon familial and is comfortable around them. I have a lot of friends with this compatibility.

🎒If two people have the same moon sign in the mercury pc, they seem like a couple sorry. Their way of thinking is so similar. These are the people that can look at each other and know what the other one is thinking without saying anything. Their bond transcends the limitations of speech.

🎒Virgo moon in the mercury pc have to be the most respectful, grateful, polite people I’ve ever met. They’re good at handling and navigating through situations in a professional environment because they’re unbiased and “right place right time” appropriate sort of people. They have strong boundaries with their personal details and with physical contact and can be slow to trust people. They have a sort of perfect look to them. Not necessarily their appearance but more like their self expression. I notice a lot of them tend to be on the slimmer side. They tend to eat until comfortably full rather than stuffed. They don’t bite more than they can chew and don’t make promises they can’t keep. 10/10 respectable people.

🎒Trust an earth moon in the mercury pc/moon pc to give an honest review. They avoid using emotive words like “best” and “most” and instead take time to analyze the pros and cons whilst being respectful. They’re not gullible, not dramatic but realistic and true skeptics.

🎒Aries moon in the mercury pc/mars pc are so hot!!

🎒Not an astrology observation but people who lack these letters in their name—-> b,k,t,e,n,w,h,q,z are terrible at math for some reason. Or just very slow to learn math concepts. Even if you have one of these letters in your name, it has to be prominent, meaning: first letter, second letter, first vowel, last letter. This is more of an assumption so please let me know if it resonates.

🎒People with an abundance of air moons in the moon/mercury/venus/mars pc stare at people a LOT

🎒Air moons in mercury pc make for stimulating conversation, gossip, but are kind of detached. I wouldn’t go for deep convos with them unless they also have Fire and Water too.

🎒Earth moon in mercury pc = that friend that never lets anyone in their house

(but they’ve been to your house countless times)

🎒Virgo moon in mercury pc is another level of private especially when it comes to relationships. I swear more than scorpio moons. Most other moons will tell you who they have a crush on early. Virgo moon could be secretly pining for so long and then you find out they’ve already confessed to their crush whom you didn’t even know about and been together for a month. They also don’t like to talk about relationship problems with anyone other than their partner and don’t like people—>strangers/acquaintances asking about their relationship so yeah respect their boundaries.

🎒Sagittarius moon in mercury pc like to tease and provoke their partner. Sometimes they may like to make their partner jealous and they also get jealous easily. They know how to have fun, enjoy life and a big, hearty meal!! Big biters. They are definitely foodies haha. They can have adorably chubby cheeks bc they eat a lot unless they have fast metabolism. They pull funny faces. Lowkey the opposite of virgo moon.

🎒Taurus moon in mercury pc is also a foodie but the difference is they take time to appreciate each bite whereas sag just stuffs their face lmao a little too self rewarding but at least they’re having a good time

🎒Taurus, Sag, Cancer = ultimate foodies

🎒Most earth moons in mercury pc are so grateful, humble and down to earth especially virgo. Sag and pisces in mercury pc can come off as ‘out of touch’ as these signs are less comfortable in mercury (I forgot the word for it). I can imagine rich kids with sag/pisces moon in merc pc being insufferable yikes.

🎒Gemini moon in mercury pc is eccentric but in a charming way?

🎒Pisces moon in mercury pc are so “wrong time wrong place” people, it’s weirdly hilarious. They’re either the embodiment of TMI or so mysterious you hardly know anything about them

🎒Fire moons in the moon pc are so entertaining. They’re delivery is always hilarious bc they’re so dramatic and passionate. People are attracted to them like moths to a flame

🎒Scorpio moon in mercury pc and Aries moon in mars pc are scary as. Don’t want to be on their bad side. Scorpio anger is more of a silent, fatal, death stare whereas Aries is explosive, fuming anger. They’re fiercely loyal and protective of their loved ones but the down side is they can be biased; defending the person in the wrong sometimes

🎒Moon signs in the same element get along really well I.e. capricorns get along with virgo and taurus. Aries get along with Leo and sag. For example, same-element-moons in the mercury pc can be completely different people but understand each other so well. In mars pc, they have similar energy and hype each other up, they’re each other’s personal hype man lol

🎒I feel like signs with the same modality attract each other. For example sag moon and virgo moon in mercury pc (modality: mutable) both have such different beliefs and values yet they appreciate traits in the other that they lack and get along well as friends. For example virgo is professional and stoic, and sag is funny but their bond is built on mutual respect rather than similarities between each other. And also, one of my virgo moon in merc pc friend likes a lot of celebrities with sag moon in merc pc (can’t remember who, my bad).

🎒Gemini moons in moon pc think through their emotions rather than feel. They overanalyse social interactions more often than not

🎒Sometimes sag in mercury pc can be ungrateful. They always want more, more, more without showing gratitude, for example with food especially. Sometimes they need to sit back and smell the roses.

🎒Aquarius moon in the moon pc is really detached. Throw in a bit of Pisces and it’s just a whole unstable mess. In extreme cases, narcissism/serial killers/psychotism. I can imagine because at their worst, pisces is delusional, and aquarius has the ability to detach from any emotion including empathy.

🎒Aries moon in moon pc have self respect. They never say anything to belittle themselves. They’re honest and don’t appreciate pity and so they talk about their hardships in a normal tone (not a pitiful one). They’re also arguably the most hardworking people out there and you’ll never be bored around them once you get to know them.

🎒Capricorn moons have impeccable patience and they’re really so caring, parental like

🎒Capricorn/scorpio moon in Jupiter pc is so subtly powerful, I love them

🎒Scorpio moon in venus pc’s intense stare >>>>>>>>>>>>>

🎒Libra moon’s habit of copying their partners habits, speech patterns, fashion and interests is so cute. Matching couple outfits/bracelets etc. are their jam

🎒Cancer/Pisces moon in mars pc can get teary eyed when someone raises their voice at them. They’re also very comfortable to be around

🎒Libra moon in the mars pc is so chill like they just don’t give a shit

🎒Capricorn moon in the mars pc is really good at this ——-> 😐

stone faced hot mfs

🎒Leo moons are sooo funny especially moon/mars/jupiter pc

🎒Fire moons in the mars pc are a whole load of fun and dramatic

🎒Aries moon in mercury pc is really resilient and they rarely give up on their goals. Sag moon in mercury pc on the other hand just sometimes can’t be bothered. The most important thing for them is to have fun and be entertained. Leo is kind of a bit of both.

🎒Pisces moon in the moon pc like to vent to people and play the blame game before taking action and solving whatever problem. They’re also healing to be around and very empathetic.

🎒Taurus moon and gemini moon in moon pc get along quite well

🎒Virgo moons can be so naggy but it’s how they show their love

🎒Virgo moon in mercury/venus pc is the type to immediately wash their dishes after eating. Sag moon in mercury pc is the type to leave uncleaned dishes on the dining table after eating, then eat more in the middle of the night and so adding more dirty dishes to the table overnight and then the stack of dirty dishes continue to go neglected for a few days or even longer. They’d make for an interesting horrible roommate duo.

Also thank you so much for 700 followers!! I love you guys ❤️ Enjoy this post.

#astrology notes #astrology observations #Persona chart #astro placements #Moon signs

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modrntravlr · 5 months

Text

i drew curtains closed - alec hardy

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

cw: vague references to sex (like the vaguest) during literal showering together

summary: When Alec finds out you've been sick after not seeing you for a few days, he takes a step back from work to comfort you and nurse you back to health.

Title from The Great War by Taylor Swift

wc: 3.1K

In all honesty, Alec had been planning on paying a visit to your flat that evening since he woke up that morning. He had spent yet another late night at the station, swearing he was close to a break and would come across something he had missed if he only put in a couple more hours of reviewing the statements he and Miller had taken so far. It was by no means unusual behaviour from him, but since you two had started seeing each other, he tried his best not to go more than a day without taking a break to see you, even if it meant just grabbing a quick lunch together, and if he didn’t get to see you today, it would’ve been his third full day away from you. Just like he did every morning, he sent you a message, this time ending it with the promise of seeing you that evening, even if it meant showing up at your doorstep long after the sun had gone down. He knew it was unfair to you, being put on the back burner simply because he was in the midst of one of his unhealthy work obsessions.

As far as Alec was concerned, the morning passed by as normal as any other morning would. He got ready for work as quickly as his body would allow him to, and set off back to the station, after only a couple hours of sleep, where he met up with Miller and the rest of his team, debriefing them on his findings from the night before and calling out assignments. He and Miller would be out most of the day, poking around every crevice of the small town that they could find, leaving no stone unturned. Also like most mornings, he kept his phone in his coat pocket, never taking it out knowing that any calls or messages from his team would come through Miller. It wasn’t until they finally decided to take a break to grab some lunch that he gave his phone a thought, pulling it out to see if he had received any calls or messages from either you or perhaps Daisy. Like most days, there had been nothing from Daisy–she only seemed to reach out to him when she wanted something, or had gotten into a fight with her mother, pleading for him to side with her and tell Tess that she was being unreasonable, even though she knows he’d never contradict her parenting decisions. Unlike most days, however, there hadn’t been a reply from you to his message that he had sent that morning, nor had there been a missed call or voicemail. Despite being a bit unusual, Alec didn’t give too much thought to it, quickly deciding you must have slept in late and had to rush off to work, or maybe your work day had just been busy, leaving you with no time to check your phone or fashion a response. He returned his phone back to its usual space in his coat after sending another short message letting you know he still had every intention of seeing you that evening.

The afternoon had been just as normal as the morning. Some people from his team had come across a witness that they had initially missed, and they without hesitation went to the station and gave Alec their official statement. With a success like that and eager to see you, he sent his team home early with the promise of a hard day’s work tomorrow before returning to his office to finish up the last of the urgent paperwork regarding the witness statement and tidying his desk. When all work was accounted for and all sensitive documents filed away under lock and key, not to be surveyed until he returned to them in the morning, he left the station. As he got into his car, allowing the engine to warm up and tossing his coat into the passenger seat, he once again pulled out his phone, this time finding a message from Daisy asking if he could please convince Tess to give her permission to go to a concert that weekend with some friends from school, to which he replied he was not in objection to, however her mother, as always, had the final say. To not have heard from you for one morning was one thing, but to not have received a reply well into the afternoon was certainly another, and certainly not something you’d have done under any normal circumstances. Alec would’ve been lying if he had said the first thing that ran through his head wasn’t that you were more upset by his neglect of you over the previous few days than you had let on to, leading you to now ignore him, but the thought left him nearly as fast as it had come. He knew for a fact he was no stranger to bottling up his true feelings, refusing to communicate, but he also knew that you certainly were not the type. The two of you hardly ever had any arguments or miscommunications, but that was all attributed to the fact that you insisted on making your feelings, wants, and needs known, thus forcing him to make an attempt at getting into the habit of doing the same. He was sure that if you truly had been so upset by his absence, you would have told him before it got to the point of feeling the need to ignore him, meaning your silence had to be the result of something being very, very wrong.

He wasted no more time once coming to his conclusion, and drove as fast as the traffic allowed him, not even bothering to stop at his own home first to change clothes into something more casual and comfortable. When he finally arrived, he found your car parked outside in its usual spot, although not unusual for the time of day, as you were usually out of work by this particular time. He jogged up the steps to the front door, knocking, and calling out your name, announcing his arrival, only to receive no response. You’d not yet given him a key to your flat, but the two of you had been seeing each other long enough that he knew where the spare key was hidden, and on many occasions, and with your general consent, he had let himself in while you were both out and at home. He waited a moment before knocking again, and when he was met with silence once more, he decided to retrieve the spare key. Your flat was nearly always tidy, hardly ever a thing out of place, but when he walked in, it seemed eerily even more put together than usual, almost as though not a thing had been touched since the last time he had come over. He called out your name into the silence once more as he began to move around the flat, finding no sign that you had sat on the settee, or turned on the telly, or even grabbed a snack from the kitchen upon arriving home from work. Finally, he worked his way over to the bedroom, where the door was open, but barely a crack, gently pushing the opening wide enough to allow him to look inside, and saying your name, almost whispering. It was finally here that he found you in bed, underneath the covers and fast asleep. He walked in quietly and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching up with his hands to brush the stray hairs away from your face and patting them down into place. You were here, safe in bed, and breathing.

He sat there for a moment, gently caressing the parts of your hair and cheek not being obscured by the blankets that had seemingly been tucked all the way up to your chin, and since shifted upwards. He tried his best not to disturb you, but eventually you began to stir and soon woke up. Not even a little bit startled by his presence, you groggily mumbled something incoherent, leaning into his hand which hadn’t left your face.

“Hello, darling,” he cooed, continuing his movements only now in your hair. He was met with a groan and mumble once again. “Sorry I haven’t been by in a while, but I’m here now,” he finished. Eyes still droopy with sleep, you blankly stared at him through half closed eyelids. His face took on a worried look, and as he was about to ask if you were alright, you suddenly turned over, letting out a dry cough into your pillow, trying to shake it to no avail for much too long for Alec’s taste. He stood up, announcing he would get you a glass of water before leaving the room in a hurry and returning a few moments later, at which point your coughing had stopped. He helped you sit up properly before handing you the glass giving you a moment's silence to drink and recover from the fit. When you were satisfied, you dropped the half-emptied glass down onto the bedside table, hoarsely forcing out a thanks, trying not to trigger another coughing fit.

“Oh, darling, are you feeling alright?” he asked, returning to his previous spot on the bed.

You shook your head no in reply, before beginning to talk again. “I’ve been feeling a bit off the past couple days now, but it was worse this morning when I woke up. I had to call in sick,” you explained with a raspy voice, painful and strained from the sore throat you’d had all day. He reached out with his hand, taking yours as he began to rub circles into the back of it with his thumb. Staring down, and intently at the touch, he frowned, before speaking. “I should’ve been here,” he nearly whispered, voice dripping with sorrow. “There was nothing you could’ve done,” you offered, tightening your own grip on his hand.

He stood up eventually, and after having been informed of your symptoms, made his way towards the bathroom, pulling pill bottles out of the cupboard, as well as refilling the glass of water. A headache, which had been one of the worser symptoms, prompted him to pull the blinds closed, and shut the drapes before switching off the overhead lights, which he had turned on when he first walked into the room. Once the pills had been taken, and you were laying back down under the covers, he made his way back to the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry. He had never really learned how to properly cook, and never really felt the need to, but in that moment, as he realised he would have to make due with a can of soup that required nothing more than being heated on the stove, he wished he had learned, if only to be able to make you a proper one. Leaving the soup to heat up in the kitchen, he returned to the bedroom, and opened up the wardrobe, as quietly as it allowed, so as not to disturb you. He didn’t occupy much space in your flat yet, not that he occupied much space in his own home apart from work related documents and files and evidence, but he did have a small section in your wardrobe that was home to a few changes of clothes, although you left plenty of room for him if he ever wanted to add more to it. He silently slipped out of the suit he had been wearing all day and into his more comfortable clothes before returning to the kitchen to see to the soup.

He prepared a small tray with a bowl of the soup along with some soda crackers he had found while he had been looking through the pantry. Alec Hardy was the last man on Earth who would be caught in bed before the sun went down, but tray in hand, he cautiously slid onto the bed, careful not to spill anything before handing it over to you as he tucked himself under the covers and pressed up against your side, wrapping his arm around you. You ate the soup, grateful that Alec had prepared it for you, as he cooed at you, still apologising for his absence, and promising he’d stay with you through the night, occasionally helping himself to a soda cracker or a spoonful of soup as well. When you’d had enough, he returned the tray back to the kitchen before returning to his own spot in bed, this time with the promise of sleep on both of your minds. It was early in the evening, but he had only slept a couple of hours the previous night, and in all honesty he truly was exhausted after pushing himself to the brink over the past few days. If your body was insistent on getting some more rest, he figured he might as well sleep for a bit as well.

The two of you had lulled into an easy sleep, and awoke a few hours later, the winter sun having already set. The medicine and the soup had eased the symptoms a bit, but you definitely weren’t anywhere near back to normal just yet. Feeling better rested himself, Alec on the other hand was ready to jump back into his work, body and mind already conditioned to run on minimal hours of sleep at a time, but he’d be damned if he left your side anytime before he absolutely had to go into the station to meet his team in the morning. “I feel much better now thanks to the soup, I hadn’t had food in all day,” you whispered, still laying in bed, curled into his chest. “I think I need a shower now though, I didn’t have much energy for that today either and I haven’t had one since I got home from work yesterday,” you continued, making a slight half-hearted effort to move away from him. He stood up then, holding his hand out to you as you soon followed after him. Hand still in his, and with a quizzical look on your face, he led you to the bathroom, letting go of your hand to make his way towards the shower, turning the water on. When he turned back around, he reached for the hem of your shirt, hand resting on it with a questioning look on his face awaiting your approval to continue. When you didn’t protest, he continued, pulling your shirt and remaining clothes off of you, with gentleness and care before repeating his ministrations on himself.

Fully undressed and under the warm spray of the water, Alec, considerate as ever, massaged your scalp, working your scented shampoo through the roots of your hair as you relaxed into the heat radiating through the room from the hot water. When your hair was clean and the water had washed away the shampoo, he took to a washcloth, rubbing slow and gentle circles over your skin. Alec wasn’t a greedy man, you had learned early in the relationship. He loved and appreciated every inch of you, worshipping it when given the opportunity to, but in moments like these, any lingering touches his hands may have made left behind only warmth and comfort, never once begging for something more, something you probably couldn’t and wouldn’t give him in your ill state, something he would never dare ask or expect you to give him in it. When he had finished working his way down your body, and as the warm water was beginning to turn cold, he gave you a moment more under the water to rinse away the remaining soap before quickly and carelessly cleaning himself off. Unlike you, he had showered that morning before returning back to the station, but he had no interest in taking a moment to relax into the warmth. He did what he had to do to be decent and presentably clean, but he took it no further than that apart from the times when in health, you had been the one to coax him into a shower or bath, taking time to thoroughly massage the knots out of his muscles and work over-priced, fragranced soaps into his hair and skin that he otherwise would have never thought to use himself.

When he finished cleaning himself, he shut off the water, quickly reaching for your bath towel and wrapping it around your dripping frame, hoping to shield your skin from the cold air before reaching for a towel of his own to wrap around his waist. He abandoned his focus on his own towel soon after, instead focusing on drying you off first, patting away the remaining water still dripping from your hair and down your skin. Not until you were both content did he hastily repeat his actions on his own body, eventually leading you back out to the bedroom, sitting you down at the foot of the bed. For the second time that evening, he made his way over to your wardrobe, this time pulling out a set of clothes from your own section and passing them over to you, allowing you to dress yourself while he did the same for himself. He returned to the bathroom, hanging the towels to dry and grabbing your hairbrush off the counter before once again going back into the bedroom joining you on the bed. Brush in hand, he beckoned you over to him, and you allowed him to settle you in front of himself, back towards him before he slowly and gently began to work the brush through your hair, beginning at the ends before making his way up to the roots. You hummed and sighed in content, sinus now feeling much more clear after the hot shower. When he was happy with his work, he placed the hair brush down onto the bed side table, moving back to lean against the head of the bed, pulling you along with him. Adjusting both you and himself, he pulled the covers up around the two of you as he held you against him, half clinging to his side and half on top of him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into his embrace, burying yourself into him.

“For what?”

“Taking care of me,” you replied. He didn’t reply, choosing instead to plant a kiss into your hair.

#—︎ my posts ☕️#fanfic #alec hardy #alec hardy x reader #broadchurch #david tennant

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vbecker10 · 1 year

Text

My Best Friend...

(Part 1 of 2 - Part 2)

Pairing: Loki x plus size female reader (y/n)

Warnings: angst (of course, not sorry), self depreciating thoughts, feeling inadequate, issues with self image, low self worth, annoying friends... but I promise lots and lots of fluff so just hold on until the end - let me know if I forgot anything 💚

Summary: What you thought would be a relaxing girls night quickly turns into an interrogation by Nat and Wanda about your non-existent relationship with Loki. After denying you are anything other then friends for as long as you can, you finally tell them how you really feel about him... and why you know he will never feel the same. The night goes from bad to worse when you realize Loki overheard you talking to them and you try to hide from him.

A/N: Loki is talked about in this part a lot but he doesn't really show up until the very end, don't worry he is going to be in the whole second part though. Also, I was going to make this one very long fic but @michelleleewise suggested breaking it into two parts so you can thank her for all the angst being in the first half and having to wait another few days for the fluff - love you @michelleleewise 💚

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

"Oh, come on Y/N," Natasha laughs as she sets the pizza box on the coffee table. "Just admit it and we can all move on with our lives."

"I can't cause it's not true," you tell her, looking down to avoid eye contact with the spy. You sit on one end of the couch and she sits next to you, you pass her and Wanda plates. "I'm disappointed, I thought you would be better at reading situations then this," you say sarcastically and she let's out a dramatic gasp, pretending to be offended.

"I think the real problem is you are worse at hiding your relationship with Loki then you think you are," Wanda says as she grabs a slice of pizza. "And since you won't just admit it, how about we review the facts?" Wanda asks with a wide smile before sitting cross legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table.

"Oh, I can't wait to hear all of these supposed facts," you roll your eyes.

"Exhibit A, breakfast," Wanda says too excitedly for your liking, "Loki brings you coffee and something to eat every single morning. How do you explain that if the two of you aren't dating, hmm?"

You decide maybe it would be better to just play along with your friends this time, hoping you might be able to convince them they were both wrong once and for all. Wanda and Nat had recently become obsessed with the idea that you and Loki were secretly dating but it had really picked up over the last week.

"I'm telling you, we aren't dating. He just knows I have a lot of early meetings so it's easy for me to get distracted and then I forget to eat," you tell them.

"I don't know," Natasha shakes her head, "Worrying that you're skipping meals seems like good boyfriend behavior."

"It is not, it's good friend behavior," you correct her, "Maybe the two of you don't worry about me enough." You cross your arms and stare at Nat then Wanda, causing them to giggle.

"Still, it's impressive. I don't think Loki even knows if Thor drinks coffee, forget about him ever bringing his brother or anyone else on the team anything," Nat says, picking up right where she left off before the minor laughing fit.

"I don't know what to tell you," you shrug. "Maybe he knows I'm less grumpy when I eat. Those mission report meetings we have are brutal if I'm not fully caffeinated," you suggest another reason.

"Nice try Y/N, but those meetings are only once a week," Nat reminds you and practically wince, how did you ever think the best spy on the planet would let that detail slip past her. "Care to explain away the coffee he brings you the other four days?"

You don't answer, pretending to be interested in reading the label on your drink instead. You remember when Loki started doing it roughly three months ago. One Friday while you were watching a movie together, you complained to him that you had missed breakfast three days in a row that week due to your tight meeting schedule. You hadn't meant for him to do anything about it, you were just venting. The following Monday and every morning since, Loki would stop by your office before he trained with Thor. He brought you a large coffee exactly the way you liked it, even though you don't remember him asking how you took it, and something to eat. You offered to pay him back after the first couple of days but he just smiled and told you not to worry about it.

Wanda laughs at your lack of response, pulling you from your thoughts and asks, "I think it's time for exhibit B, don't you?"

"Oh, of course," Nat smiles and you groan, quickly realizing this was a bad idea.

"Exhibit B, your weekends," Wanda says.

"There is nothing weird about our weekends," you tell them defensively. "What are you talking about?"

"Really Y/N?" Wanda says. "You're going to pretend you and Loki aren't going on dates all the time?"

"We aren't dating," you respond, this time you don't bother to force a smile. "We just like going to the same places."

"The two of you spend every minute of the weekend together," Nat chimes in. "I don't think Wanda spends as much time with Viz as you spend with Loki."

"It's not my fault Loki is more interesting than Vision," you reply quickly, earning a loud laugh from Nat and an eye roll from Wanda.

Natasha wasn't exactly wrong though. Over the last four months you and Loki had gone to art galleries, museums, plays and parks all across the city. These outings would have been truly amazing dates... if you were dating but you weren't. You think back to last weekend when you took him to the Winter Village at Bryant Park for the first time. Your fingers begin to play with the necklace you bought from one of the many artists who had set up stalls there. You were wearing gloves so Loki offered to put it on you, gently sweeping your hair away from your neck as he stood behind you to fasten the clasp. You hadn't been able to stop blushing when his fingers brushed against your skin but thankfully you could blame your red cheeks on the sudden cold breeze.

"Y/N," Wanda says, tossing a balled up napkin at you to get your attention. "Thinking about your next date night?"

You sigh and shake your head no. "Can't you both just let this go? We're going to waste the whole night on this."

"I only have one more exhibit to prove that you are dating, then we will leave you alone," Wanda says and you reluctantly agree to hear it, knowing she will tell you either way. "Exhibit C, you sleep in his apartment way too often. I mean really Y/N, I don't know why you pay rent at your place when you sleep with him two or three times a week."

"Ah, remember two weeks ago?" Nat asks Wanda and she nods. "How many nights in a row did you sleep with Loki?" she asks you with a smirk.

You sigh, "First off, stop saying it like that. I'm not sleeping with him, I sleep at his place. Secondly..." you pause not wanting to answer her question. "Five but you know that was because of the weather."

"Once in a while I get, but that many times in a row and you are practically living with him. I would bet you even have your own toothbrush and a drawer or two at his place," Wanda jokes.

You bite your lip before you respond, you did have a toothbrush and a few things stored in Loki's apartment. He had suggested you leave some items there so you were more comfortable since you slept over so often.

"I only sleep there cause he worries about me getting home safe if it's after a certain time, like if we are out until midnight on the weekends or I work really late during the week," you explain truthfully then add, "And sometimes I accidentally fall asleep at his place if we're watching a movie and he just lets me sleep. It's really not a big deal."

"Mmhmm..." Nat nods.

"I know that look Nat so don't even say it. I've already told you, nothing happens. Loki always offers me his bed and he takes the couch in his living area," you add quickly.

"Damn," Nat laughs and pretends to look disappointed.

"Now, you've finished with your 'facts' that prove nothing. He's just my best friend, that's it," you say, desperately trying to avoid talking about Loki any longer. "Can we please move onto something else?"

"Come on, what else do we need to do to get you to just tell us the truth," Wanda says.

"We aren't together," you tell them for what feels like the hundredth time.

"You can't lie to us," Nat says as if she didn't hear you, "Out with it."

"He's not mine!" you hear yourself say loudly and the smiles fall from their faces.

You look at them both silently, suddenly feeling too exposed as you finally give up on pretending you were unbothered by their constant questions and accusations. You slowly shift so you are sitting with your legs tucked underneath you, pressing your back into the couch. Picking up one of the pillows from between you and Nat, you hold it against your chest almost as if you are trying to hide yourself.

"He's not... he's not mine," you repeat again, a bit quieter this time. "He never was and he never will be. I'm just his best friend," you say.

"Wait... no, you really aren't together?" Nat asks almost in disbelief and you nod.

"I- we honestly thought you were just trying to keep it a really bad secret. I had no idea... I'm so sorry," Wanda says softly. "We never should have pushed you so hard."

"I'm sorry too Y/N but why aren't you two dating?" Nat asks. "The two of you seem so perfect for each other."

You shake your head then lower your face into the pillow to hide the gathering tears. "What did you say?" Wanda asks when you mumble something in response to Nat. You can feel her sitting on the arm of the couch as she gently tries to pull the pillow away from your face.

You cling to it tightly but allow her to lower it a bit. "I said... he would never want to date me," you tell them without looking up. "I'm not his type," you feel the first few tears slip free and fall down your cheeks.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands and wipe your eyes. "Loki is a freaking prince and a God. Why would he want someone like me?" you ask them the question you had been asking yourself since you realized you were in love with him.

"Someone like you?" Nat repeats your question. "Because you are amazing Y/N. You're incredibly funny, clever and-"

You interrupt Nat, "But I'm not beautiful."

"What?" Wanda asks. "Y/N, of course you are."

"No, I'm not beautiful," you tell them. "I know what I look like, I'm short and I'm significantly overweight... I could lose a hundred pounds and I would still be nothing like the women Loki dates. They have all been tall and thin, perfect just like he is," you say, keeping your head down. "He's been with models, socialites, actresses and literal princesses when he lived on Asgard. Why would he ever want me when he could have them?"

You put one hand over your face as you lose the battle to hold back your tears. "I'm such an idiot," you say more to yourself than your friends. "I let myself fall in love with my best friend even though I know he will never love me back," you grip the pillow tighter to your body and keep your eyes closed behind your other hand.

You feel a hand gently settle on your knee, squeezing lightly to comfort you. You appreciate the gesture until you realize you no longer feel Nat and Wanda sitting on either side of you. You sniffle and wipe your eyes, your heart beginning to race as you recognize your favorite smell, Loki's cologne.

"Y/N," Loki says almost in a whisper. He looks up at you as he kneels on the carpet in front of you.

"No," you say in disbelief as you stand up, tossing aside the pillow.

"Wait-" he says but you ignore him, desperately avoiding his gaze.

"No, no, no," you repeat as you realize Loki heard you say you loved him. If he heard that, what else had he heard? Before he can say anything else you grab your phone off the coffee table and leave the common area as quickly as possible.

Please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list 💚💚

@michelleleewise @soubi001 @ace-of-gay @tessathechild @misunderstoodself @coldnique @lokiprompts @thomase1 @mochie85 @fi-recs-fics @huntress-artemiss @sititran @xorpsbane @kkdvkyya @lokisgoodgirl @harlequin-hangout @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @kats72 @avoliax @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @loopsisloops @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @high-functioning-lokipath @psychospore @dukes2581 @buttercupcookies-blog @animnerd @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @laufeyson-16 @lonadane @loki-laufeyson-1054 @pics-and-fanfics

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💚💚

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bananaofswifts · 11 months

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Taylor Swift’s catalog re-recording campaign continues with a thoughtful version of 2010’s Speak Now that tempers teen angst with the ageless quality of lullabies and folk songs.

Taylor Swift emerged in 2006 as a 16-year-old wunderkind with a gift for articulating all the intimacies and humiliations of falling in love. But throughout her early career, her image was predicated on her youthful innocence as much as her outsized wisdom. Swift “does not drink or swear or flash cleavage,” remarked a profile from around the time of her third studio album, Speak Now—a point that stood in opposition to peers like Miley Cyrus and Demi Lovato, who were quick to jettison their tween-friendly branding. Swift seemed to take up the mantle of youth role model with pride. Though she was careful to never disparage anyone directly, she told The New Yorker in 2010, “I don’t feel completely overcome by the relentless desire to put out a dark and sexy ‘I’m grown up now’ album.”

Speak Now, released in 2010, emerged at an inflection point in Swift’s life. She had recently turned 20 and moved out of her parents’ home, had toured the world, and, as evidenced by gut-wrenching tracks like “Dear John” and “Last Kiss,” had experienced heartbreak that shook her sense of emotional security. On this album, she struggles to balance her love of fantasy and escapism with her new responsibilities. Throughout Speak Now, she asks, How do you believe in fairytales and also acknowledge the depth of your pain?

As with her previous re-recordings of early work, Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) remains largely faithful to the arrangements and lyrics of the original. But Swift is not the same singer she was at 20. In more recent material, her starry-eyed optimism has been replaced with nuance and caution. She’s learned to voice regret as much as rage; in songs like Lover’s “Death by a Thousand Cuts” and Reputation’s “Dress,” she drinks and allows her sexual fantasies to run wild. On the new recordings of old Speak Now songs, her maturity is revealed not through the words themselves, but how she chooses to deliver them. The angry songs are presented with a sigh rather than a vindictive grin. The songs about heartache are sung carefully and patiently. It feels less like she’s sending a message to any particular ex than she is conveying a generalized weariness about how draining young adulthood can be.

Written between the ages of 18 and 20, the original tracks on Speak Now depict Swift clinging to her girlhood like someone trying to hold water in their palms. “Never Grow Up,” an acoustic ballad, was ostensibly written for young female fans. But by the end the song reveals itself as a means of mourning her past self. She promises the impossible: that no one will ever leave her deserted, that there will be no pain in her life. “Innocent,” a song about forgiving someone who wronged her, evokes the subject’s childhood—chasing fireflies, relying on someone bigger to get things off the shelf—in order to find something worth redeeming in them. Thumping rocker “Long Live” uses images of castles and dragons to celebrate the larger-than-life experience of touring with her band. It’s full of love but sung in the past tense, as if to memorialize the moment while it was still happening. Hearing these songs on Speak Now (Taylor’s Version), there’s less fear and more gentleness. Losing some of that teenage angst makes the songs less immediately enthralling: In the originals’ jagged inhales, sneered words, and ad-libbed laughter, you could hear how deeply these stories affected their author. Hearing her sing them now, they sound slightly anonymous, more like lullabies and folk songs than expressions of pressing concern.

Swift’s youthful naivete peeks through in the way she sings about other women. In her professional life, she had benefited—however passively—from comparisons to women deemed less wholesome and pure. And in her songwriting, she depicted them as unworthy rivals and master manipulators. In “Speak Now,” Swift’s narrator disrupts a marriage ceremony in hopes of separating the groom from his snotty, overdressed bride. On “Better Than Revenge,” she chastises a woman who supposedly stole her boyfriend. She later revised the sentiment, saying in 2014, “No one can take someone from you if they don’t want to leave.” Since the announcement of the re-recording, it has been speculated that she might edit the song’s most cutting and criticized lyrics: “She’s better known for the things that she does on the mattress.” On Taylor’s Version, this line becomes, “He was a moth to a flame/She was holding the matches.” The change feels half-hearted: Diss tracks aren’t supposed to be respectful. No one listens to “Better Than Revenge” expecting a measured response or nuanced feminist take. The song was satisfying precisely because Swift captured the nearsighted perspective of a teenager; in the attempt to distance herself from that person, she sacrifices resonance for optics.

“Dear John” remains the emotional centerpiece of the album, and one of the most devastating songs Swift has ever written. Across a lonely, warbling guitar lick and patiently unfurling blues-rock arrangement, she details mistreatment from an older partner: his wild oscillations between hot and cold, his ever-moving goal posts. John Mayer, whom the song is ostensibly about, was 32 when he dated a 19-year-old Swift in 2010. The new version, released by Swift at the same age that Mayer was then, is more powerful than ever. It provides a showcase for her deeper vocal range, and the way she enunciates each syllable adds weight to every word. When she belts out his name in the chorus, she sounds completely in control.

Since 2010, Swift has written another song about a torturous relationship she was in at age 19, presumably the same one. “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” from last year’s Midnights, reveals the lasting impact of the memory. She wails, “Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.” It’s colored the way I hear “Dear John” and all of Speak Now: This wasn’t run-of-the-mill teen angst or ego that Swift was singing about back then. It was a coming-of-age moment turned crisis of faith, the kind of experience that reveals people’s capacity to inflict hurt. When you’re a 19-year-old girl curious about the world, it’s often implied that older men with deep eyes and brooding stares should be your teachers. But the lessons they offer are not always the ones you expect. Growing up is learning how to hold that knowledge without giving up hope of finding the pleasure and love you deserve.

Like prior album re-recordings, Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) includes a handful of newly released tracks that emerge “from the vault.” Hayley Williams joins for “Castles Crumbling,” which repurposes the same fairytale imagery from “Long Live” to relay her paranoia about a dramatic fall from grace. On “I Can See You,” which sounds more like the inky, lilting trap-pop on Reputation than anything on Speak Now, Swift describes an illicit workplace romance with sultriness and authority that stand apart from the album’s otherwise chaste perspective. On the breezy country-pop song “Foolish One,” Swift reminds herself that she is not the exception to the general rule that if someone is acting disinterested, they probably don’t want to be with you. Just one album prior, she was so confident in her exceptionalism that she re-wrote Romeo and Juliet as a love story starring her. Now, she tempers her romantic fantasies with pragmatism and a sense of jubilant freedom, encouraging a younger self to broaden the scope of her desire.

This re-release doesn’t benefit from the same novelty as Fearless (Taylor’s Version) in 2021, when the endeavor of re-recording her catalog to regain control over her masters felt rare and exciting. And musically, the Speak Now material doesn’t stand up to Red (Taylor’s Version), which presented perhaps her strongest album along with an extended version of fan-favorite “All Too Well” and a number of excellent vault tracks. In recent weeks, news of the latest re-release has been overshadowed by intrigue and minutiae from her current Eras tour. Throughout Speak Now (Taylor’s Version), Swift sometimes mutes the messy adolescent impulses that gave these songs their spark. But elsewhere, she divests from fantasy archetypes—the knight on a white horse, the helpless child—that once limited her. Think of the new Speak Now as a call and response between who she was and who she is: a teenager full of questions about what it means to grow up and an adult woman who’s still turning them over to find new answers.

#taylor swift #review #speak now tv

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herotome · 7 months

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Devlog #120

Hi-ho, Wudge here. Early devlog...!

This week I drew a blush just for Warden and nobody else. There are two very specific ways to see it, and only in this office location. So... good luck!

I playtested the game enough to get allllllll 26 achievements. I actually... had to reference my own walkthrough to get one of them. ;;; But I was able to do it!!

I also had a small.. incident where Griffin promised he'd talk to everyone to help fix their negative opinions of me (aka, reset the approval points to a more neutral zone after I thoroughly antagonized everybody).... and then he didn't. It's fixed now ;;;;;; But woo that would have been an awful lil mistake hahaha.

I finished the 'updating ur mc pfp' tutorial - seems to be intuitive and working seamlessly enough!

I converted converted alllll the pngs into webps, and converted alllllllllll the mp3s and wavs into oggs...

...and deleted all unnecessary files and notes from the development process. This is usually the stage where I'll end up breaking something from accidentally nuking an important file... but so far so good.

I put in a cute, special lil sfx for the reward you get after the credits.

Finish designing and coding my SECRET NG+ screen, and wrote a personalized dev note to put in it.

And - we've finally updated Mr Whidden! Wahoo!!!! Remnantation did an amazing job as always!

I thought about putting in some animated smoke coming out of his cannon arm but I had to tell myself No... No Wudge....stop.. ......I did add a lil ember and smoke at the very edge of the gun but THATS IT I restrained myself there and did not animate!!!

So, what else is left?

Thanks I'm glad you asked.

Test my email subscription service to see how much I can customize those emails.

Film and upload the Griffin CG video.

Finish and import a few final pieces of in-game art (1 bird sprite, 1 background, some food art).

Review some sound effects in a final, final dev playtest.

Schedule out some social media release posts; wherein I might do like, a week of counting down until the game's release.

Finish updating my itch page (adding the final few lil graphics, putting up the new Content Warning, linking to the new video, then finally, uploading the game files and walkthrough).

Decide how I'm gonna update my pinned post. I should save a link to the old one bc most of its information should be quite relevant, but I'll want a temporary, shorter pinned post for new players who aren't familiar with this blog and are looking to troubleshoot or say hi or something.. Should still have fun attention-grabbing gifs and stuff from the itch page though. <_<

.... So yeah, mostly like - social media promo stuff. That should be it. Fingies crossed. Whew.

By the way?

Super Demo comes out December 2nd. Mark your calendars <3

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

#herotome update #amareteabreak #oelvn #visual novel #superheroes #otome game #otome #interactive fiction #english otome #fiction #indie dev #indie otome #indie game #indie games

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zvaigzdelasas · 11 months

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Joe Biden campaigned in 2020 on the promise of new ideas, more competence, and a “return to normality.” But when it comes to economic sanctions, President Biden has chosen instead to maintain the path that his predecessor set. From Venezuela to Cuba to Iran, the Biden administration’s approach to sanctions has remained remarkably similar to Trump’s. On the campaign trail, candidate Biden promised to rejoin the Iran deal and to “promptly reverse the failed Trump policies that have inflicted harm on the Cuban people and done nothing to advance democracy and human rights.” Yet two and a half years after taking office, the Biden administration has made little progress towards fulfilling these promises. While economic sanctions may not seem important to the average American, they have strong implications for the global economy and America’s national interests. President Biden initially showed promise by requesting that the Treasury Department conduct a swift review of U.S. sanctions policies. However, the review’s publication in October 2021 was underwhelming. It produced recommendations such as adopting “a structured policy framework that links sanctions to a clear policy objective,” and “ensuring sanctions are easily understood, enforceable, and, where possible, reversible.” If the U.S. was not already undertaking these measures, it is fair to ask what exactly was taken into consideration when prior sanctions were implemented. The failure to reenter the Iran deal is the most egregious error of Biden’s sanctions policies. Apart from harming American credibility and acting as a strong deterrent to any future countries looking to enter diplomatic agreements with the U.S., Trump’s “maximum pressure” strategy has been a complete failure. As the United States Institute of Peace notes, Iran’s “breakout time” —the time required to enrich uranium for a nuclear bomb — stood at around 12 months in 2016. As of today, Iran’s breakout time stands at less than a week. It did not have to be this way. Although Iran violated segments of the JCPOA after American withdrawal, it never left the deal completely, signaling potential for a reconciliation. Yet the Biden administration declined to lift sanctions initially. As Javad Zarif, Iran’s foreign minister, told CNN in early 2021, “It was the United States that left the deal. It was the United States that violated the deal.”[...]

Biden has shown similar hesitancy on Cuba. Although the administration has taken certain steps to undo Trump’s hardline stance, there remains much room for progress. Six decades of maximum pressure on Cuba have failed completely, serving primarily to harm Cuban civilians and exacerbate tensions with allies who wish to do business with Cuba. The U.S. embargo of Cuba is incredibly unpopular worldwide. A U.N. General Assembly Resolution in support of ending the embargo received 185 votes in support, with only two against — the U.S. and Israel. Steps such as reopening the American embassy in Havana and removing restrictions on remittances are positive developments, yet the Biden administration could do much more. Primary among these are removing Cuba from the State Sponsors of Terrorism list and ending the embargo once and for all. This would not only improve daily life for Cuban civilians, but increase business opportunities for Cubans and Americans alike. Trump also attempted his maximum pressure strategy with Venezuela, but failed to achieve anything resembling progress. In one of his final actions in office, he levied even more sanctions on Venezuela, further isolating one of the region’s largest oil producers. Venezuela is another country where the Biden administration has taken mere half-measures. Easing some sanctions in late 2022 is a positive sign, but there is no serious justification for keeping any of the Trump-era sanctions in place. All of these actions have had major consequences, not only for the citizens of the sanctioned countries, but also for Americans. As oil prices spiked following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the fact that Iran and Venezuela, two of the world’s largest oil producers, were unable to sell on the U.S. market no doubt led to higher gas prices for American consumers. And the millions of Americans with family in sanctioned countries face serious difficulties in visiting and sending remittances to their family members. Despite these measures, none of these countries are considered serious threats to the U.S. In a March 2023 Quinnipiac poll, Americans rightly ignored Iran, Venezuela and Cuba when asked which country “poses the biggest threat to the United States.” Just two percent chose Iran as the biggest threat, with zero choosing Cuba or Venezuela.

These sanctions are unpopular, ineffective and quite often counterproductive to American interests. While changing the course of U.S. foreign policy can take quite some time, the dangers of hesitancy are quite clear. Rather than maintaining the Trump status quo on sanctions, which saw record increases, President Biden should fulfill his campaign promises and end the ineffective and costly sanctions on countries such as Iran, Cuba, and Venezuela, and return to the use of diplomacy to further American national interests.

You know things are bad when The Hill is coming after you as a democrat (note the lack of mention about sanctions on China or DPRK)

22 Jun 23

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rossellini-tyrell · 7 months

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Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Ch. 8 - i sat on a rug (biding my time, drinking her wine)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Word Count: ~7500 Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader

Warnings:

THIS IS SMUT. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE SMUT, OR NOT BETWEEN THESE CHARACTERS, DO NOT TOUCH THAT KEEP READING LINK. Under 18? Please click out of this post! All characters here are in their early-mid 20s. things that happen: reader receives oral and it's cash money. Pav aesops a lot about healthy experiences. Gwen gets a little (or a lot OOC). also found on AO3 and Wattpad.

"I swear, I could have put the damn ring on Miles's finger myself after that!" gushes Gwen from her spot on your couch. She's tipsy, you're each on either your second or third hard seltzer, and your living room is starting to wobble and melt before your very eyes. "I would wholly support that," you agree. Gwen giggles in that overly familiar way, the one that tells you she's cooking up something wicked in that brain of hers. She leans in closer, slings an arm around your shoulder and peers at you through conspiratorially-squinted eyes. "So, (You), how's Pav?" she asks, a lilt in her voice that tells you there's definitely an ulterior motive to this seemingly innocent question. "Oh, he's great!" you reply, ducking out of wherever this is going. "He just raised another round of funding, so he's going to be able to expand his company more!" "That's great, but that doesn't answer my question," she says. "How. Is. Pav?" she enunciates. Her top two teeth peek out, pressing into her lower lip. You start to sweat, remembering the topic of conversation you'd been on. Gwen had given you the New York Times review of all the wild shit her and Miles had gotten up to since you last talked to her. You'd immediately learned that drunk Gwen has zero concept of propriety. "He is...the best, honestly," you deflect, but voice still deeply earnest. "I mean, can I ask for more than a handsome man with great hair who takes care of me when I'm sick, he even cleaned me up and—" "zzzzz, BORING!" Gwen shouts. She gives you a good-natured but maybe a tad too aggressive shove on the shoulder. "Skip to the good part, I want details!" "Gwen, I don't know if I should be—" you try to dissuade her. "Back when he was with Gayatri, we got trashed and she told me he was eating good, is that still true?" she whisper-growls with a saucy wink, in no way trying to lower the volume of her voice.

"Gwen!" you chide. Blood rushes piping hot to your face, heart absolutely banging off the walls of your chest. Gwen cackles maniacally and nearly spills her drink on your nice sofa. "Christ on a crutch, (You), your fucking face right now is precious! It's just a lil' girl talk, nothing here leaves this room, you get me?" she rambles. "Well, I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say about...about—" you stammer. "Oh come on! It's not like you're some kind of virgin or somethi—wait, holy shit, are you a virgin?" Gwen's eyes widen. You think she looks like a fish staring like that. "Oh my god, you're a virgin! That's so sweet!" she cooes at you. She reaches to pinch one of your cheeks. "No! No no no no, it's not like that! I'm not a virgin, definitely not, we just haven't—" you race to clarify, hands waving in front of your face. "Well what's the holdup, then? Are you guys trying to up the sexual tension? Are you saving yourselves for some special occasion or..." Gwen wonders aloud, before tapping her fingers together while her face morphs into a faux-dismayed expression. "You're not scared to be with him, are you?" "No way!" your rejection of the idea is immediate, emphatic. Gwen doesn't seem to have heard that, however, with the way she keeps on prattling.

"Like, I totally get it, he's Spider-Man, he's loaded, he's got some experience, he's really fucking attractive, that's intimidating and all for, like ninety-nine percent of everybody, but I promise he really wants to be with you too, you don't have to just fantasize when you—" "Gwennnnn, for Christ's sake, I do not fantasize about my boyfriend and—" you interrupt that very, very salacious thought. "What?! Why on Earth would you not? Who are you fantasizing to?? Is it Tom Holland??" Gwen questions in rapid-fire, face clearly scandalized. "What the fuck, Gwen. No," you deny. "I'm not fantasizing about any of these people, I'm not fantasizing, period." Gwen seems awfully confused by that statement. "But, how else is a girl supposed to get off by herself? I don't get it." You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know, I must be broken or something. I've never had an orgasm," you deadpan. "You what??" Gwen sits up ramrod straight, flabbergasted. "What?" a shocked third voice sounds outside the apartment. Followed immediately by a blur of red and blue at the window near your fire escape, and then a heavy crash. You and Gwen share an alarmed look for a moment. You can almost see the steam coming out of Gwen's ears, she marches over to the window, pulls it open, and with a terrifying force, yanks the eavesdropper into the apartment by the hair. "Ow, ow, shit!" the voice yelps. It's very familiar, you realize. Because it's your boyfriend. "Pavitr Prabhakar, you have five seconds to explain to me why in the fuck you were spying on our private conversation—" Gwen starts reading him the riot act. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to..." Pavitr's groveling, apologies awkwardly spilling from his lips like a leaky P-trap. You don't stick around to hear them. You about-face and beeline to your room to curl up and die of mortification, only briefly stopping to consider that you just watched your seemingly-normal human friend drag a superhero into the apartment by the hair, like she might bring in a small bag of groceries. How much did he hear? Would he think worse of you? Did he hear Gwen talking about his— Nope, we're not doing this today.

You belly-flop onto the bed. Your pillow makes a great set of earmuffs, and doubles nicely as a dark cave to stick your head into while you hear Gwen and Pavitr arguing (more accurately, Gwen winning the argument in a one-sided fashion while your boyfriend tries and fails to form a coherent sentence) in the kitchen. Your head is spinning, dust kicking up from discussions put to the side for far too long that is now filling your lungs. You're not sure why you and him haven't talked about this, whether it was fear, nerves—

Was he scared of you?

You're not sure how long you're hiding there for, but there's one, two, three soft knocks, the squeal of your door-hinge, then, a dip in your mattress. You know it's Pavitr right away when you feel the soothing stroke of a hand on your upper arm.

"Can I hide under there too?" he softly asks.

The idea of your big, strong, superhero boyfriend being scared of Gwen Stacy makes you giggle (although it's not hard to be scare of Gwen Stacy, if you're honest with yourself). You lift the pillow up and make some room on the bed, he lays down on his side to face you, suit and all, save for his mask.

"I'm sorry if I said anything that was—" you begin.

"I'm sorry I was listening to your—" he talks across you.

You both pause. Pavitr sighs heavily and rubs his sore scalp.

"I deserved that," he admits.

"I'm not so sure you did. The direction that conversation was going was..." you trail off, you gesture vaguely in front of you, trying to communicate something to the effect of "cringe".

"You aren't broken," he says suddenly, determined.

You snap your head up to meet his eyes. They're serious and shine with resolve.

"I'm...I don't get it," you say.

"You're not broken for never having an orgasm. And I'm not convinced you can't," he explains.

You chew on the thought for a bit.

"I mean...I've tried on my own, until I just gave up. That sounds like a 'me' problem," you mumble.

"Look, I know you might not believe me, and I know you might not even be interested but..." Pavitr hesitates, runs his hand through his thick, black hair. "I'll give you one. Or as many as you want, I don't know. And I don't want you to worry about doing anything for me, or for anything to hurt, I just want...fuck, (You), my heart broke when I heard that," he admits. His mouth is wilted into a pained frown.

Your face droops, you hate the idea of sweet, sensitive Pavitr being sad on your account.

"Pav, I don't want to get your hopes up though, I feel bad already that with all of the—the bullshit in our lives I haven't taken the time to think about your own needs and—"

"No. You're the one who had three boyfriends that couldn't be assed with your needs, and were put in a situation where your choice was taken away from you, even though it didn't get anywhere," he cuts you off immediately with an open hand below your collarbone. "The only 'need' I have is the need to show you it can be so, so good when you're with someone who loves you. But only on your terms, only ever when you feel the time is right."

You feel the urge to turn away, but you can't resist Pavitr's puppy-dog eyes, the kind he gets when he sees a stray animal that he wants to adopt on the spot.

"You seem very invested in this," you tell him, like it's a strange idea. Should it be?

"I just wanna make my girl feel good" he cooes. He pulls your face against the hollow of his throat. "Hobie told you once that you could ask for whatever you damn-well wanted, and I wouldn't say no. He's not wrong, you know."

"So you are an eavesdropper!" you accuse him.

"Okay, the Amazing Spider-Man has a minor personality flaw, sue me," he snarks, but is sure to drop a kiss in your hair after the words leave his lips. "My point stands, though. If there's anything you ever wanted to try, I'd love to do it for you. That includes giving you your first orgasm. And your second, your third, your forty-eighth—"

"Forty-eight?" you gasp.

"That's really not that many!" he protests, which earns him a well-deserved flick to the forehead from you. "But, in any case, it's up to you. Like I told you when we first got together, all at your pace, sweet girl. If the thought strikes your fancy, just say the word."

"I'll think about it," you agree.

"That's all I can ask of you," he says, and brings your hand to his lips to kiss your palm.

---- The heat in Pavitr's room is stifling. The air conditioner isn't cutting it, you're in a tee and sleep shorts while he's shirtless in jeans, you only have the energy to watch an old sitcom on the bedroom TV while Pavitr works out the fatigue from your sore feet. You lay with your legs across his lap, hissing when the pad of his thumb digs in to your arch. "Darling, you have to start wearing actual shoes when doing big chores," he gently chastises you. "A slipper is a shoe," you argue back. Pavitr's thumb arcs up towards of the ball of your foot and you wince when he lands on a tender spot. "Your poor, abused feet don't seem to think so," he retorts. "Well, then you can make it better later with those magic hands of yours, mister 'I'm so good at everything'", you declare. Pavitr snickers, his thumbs find their way to the lower end of your calf, just above your ankle. "I'm good at a lot of things, dove, but not everything," he says in dulcet tones, one corner of his mouth quirked up just so. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the perfect amount of pressure his hands are putting on your leg. Maybe it's the silky feel of his voice when it resonates in your ears. But today, you start to notice a difference. You feel...aware, like a deep itch, well below the layers of skin, muscle, fat. A thirst, yet, your mouth feels full and cottony from the humid air of the room. "You're very good with your hands," you praise. The knot in your leg dissipates, and he moves on, this time pressing at the outer side, halfway up near the heart of the muscle. You exhale as he draws slow, deep circles into the tension there, it's achy, but it's pleasant, too. Pleasant in a way that makes your legs twitch, something that Pavitr doesn't miss under his thumb. "So I've been told. Among some other things," he purrs. This tone has always brought you to your knees when he used it, and he knows it. Today, however, the shiver you feel isn't the same as the others, instead of a nervous, delighted tickle, it curves lower, warmer, lingers a bit beneath your ribcage in a thick haze.

Pavitr lifts your leg by the calf, places an open-mouthed kiss over the imprint his thumb left there. Then, a second one next to it, intentional, calculated. The stuffiness of the room is so much you think you could scoop it into a glass and drink. "Pav..." you murmur. It's a little bit questioning, a little bit commanding, a little bit hesitant. The show's laugh track rings obnoxious in the background. "Sonu...you should take me up on that offer," he suggests. Or is it pleading? "...Right now?" you gulp. You can feel your pulse in your voicebox. "If you wanna," he affirms. "You don't need to do anything, just relax and...enjoy." The juncture of your thighs starts to feel uncomfortably sticky against the fabric of your shorts, you fight the urge to press them together. "What did you have in mind?" you inquire. Pavitr rolls over to kiss at your shin, then the inside of your knee before crawling up your body to level with your ear, you can feel his breath tickling the shell. "I think Gwen mentioned to you that I'm happiest when I'm eating well," he husks directly into it, and then traces the inner rim of it with the very point of his tongue. You shiver from the contact, from his words, the way they felt so close to your skin, or the teasing of his tongue, you're not sure which. You're definitely pressing your thighs together now. "Good luck with that. It's been tried, and hasn't worked," you warn him. You hate the idea of him doing all that hard work for no reward. Pavitr is nonplussed, he takes your face in hand to kiss you slow, beginning the dance you know well by now. "Did whoever was trying give you head for its own sake? Or were they trying to butter you up with oral so they could say they did before doing what they wanted?" he asks pointedly, one eyebrow quirked. You don't have to think about it for very long, you've never been given this on its own. Only before sex, and it'd be difficult to argue they were into it, or trying particularly hard to please you. "You're probably right. I don't think they were trying too hard at all. But I should have felt...something, right?" you wonder. Pavitr sighs and sadly shakes his head. "There's a world of difference if someone really wants take their time and make you feel good, instead of just half-assing it so you'll give in. It also helps to have...skill, which I can promise you, I have plenty of," he slips you a wink and licks his lips, and the subsequent jolt of thrill makes your core twitch. "All you need to know is that this is for you. I wanna give you oral because I love you, dammit. No strings, no bullshit, just very, very good head. I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, and it's going to be amazing. Sound good?" You worry your lip with your canine, thighs squeezing together at the image he's planted in your head. Pavitr waits for your reply patiently, he's not leering, his expression is fond, gentle. He's never led you astray before, so he wouldn't now, right? Right? "But...if I can't?" you trail off, leaving Pavitr to fill in the blank. He does, with ease, one hand takes yours and gives it a soft squeeze. "If something's not working for you, we can change it. If it doesn't happen today, then no hard feelings, we'll go back to what we were doing. Even if you don't orgasm, sex can still feel really good in and of itself," two of his long, elegant fingers walk along your arm while he talks, voice even and mellow. "And when you feel done, we'll be done. It's like a conversation, we go down a line, and change the topic when it feels right to," he explains, kisses your knuckles on the back of your hand. "I think I can get you there, I think you just weren't given a fair shake and need someone to actually try. But if it doesn't happen, we can try again another time. Or never, you're wonderful all the same." You exhale through pursed lips. "Okay, I'd like to try at least," you acquiesce. Pavitr nudges your chin with his hand. "Do you want to try? Or do you just feel like you should because I asked?"

You understand immediately what he's asking. His eyes are soft, but stern, he scans your face for any sign you are simply appeasing him, rather than agreeing of your own enthusiasm. He's searching for fear and apprehension where there should be desire, curiosity. You don't think you've ever been asked this, and while you can't say your past experiences were ever coerced, save for the circumstances under which you and Pavitr met, you're grateful that he's thinking of this.

"I do want to," you confirm. "I'm...nervous that I'll be disappointed again, but what you're offering feels different from what it's been like...before. You've never given me any reason not to trust you, and I'm ready to try if it's with you."

You smile up at your boyfriend, and Pavitr seems satisfied with this answer. His eyes darken further than the rich cocoa they already are, and he leans in to kiss your mouth deeply, explores every ridge, every surface of it with his tongue, a little preview of his repertoire.

"I am going to eat you up so well, for hours," he rasps directly into your ear, leaving you shuddering, getting even wetter at the seam of your shorts. "On my bed, on the kitchen counter, in my car, on my desk at work after everyone's gone home, every damn day if I have to until you come on my tongue. You deserve that much, dove." His lips ghost on the shell, then along the hollow of your throat, where he leaves gentle, slow little nips and sucks while he crawls back down your body.

You have enough sense to turn off the television before he's back over your legs, kisses and suckles getting closer and closer to the hem of your sleep shorts. Your breaths catch and stutter, each little contact a sweet torture that leaves you jumping under his mouth, your center grows slicker and you'd think he could smell you from here.

And then, to your surprise, he stops. He reaches behind you for one of the pillows.

"Lift your hips a bit for me, darling," he instructs, the tone of his voice honey-sweet.

You comply, confused, and he slides the pillow beneath them.

"What's this for?" you ask.

Pavitr grins brightly and plops a smooch on one kneecap.

"So my girlfriend is comfy, of course!" he says in a voice almost inappropriately upbeat for the situation.

Your heart melts at this thoughtfulness, never has anyone you know associated the word "comfy" with sex, but with someone as attentive as Pavitr, you're learning things can be different. Maybe those words should go together, you think.

Pavitr's nails catch on the waistband of your sleep shorts, they pause there.

"Yes?" he asks, looks to you for your assent through the dark curtain of his fringe.

You're frozen in time when you meet his eyes. It's not a particularly hard choice. It's easy enough to say no, sorry you're not ready for that. Or even ask if you can reschedule to next Wednesday, maybe work it in between the gym and your dentist appointment. He'd be happy to drop it and continue doing what you were doing, wait a hundred years if he had to. What sways you is when you meet his rich, coffee-colored eyes and there's no

want I want gimme give it lemme grab tug squeeze grab take have

You're so used to that by now. No, these eyes are soft, round, curious, even. Curious to know this part of you, to share this with you, a whispered secret on the breath of butterfly wings. To give you something that was always denied, see the way your face would light up when you got there. By the look on his face, you knew Pavitr wasn't lusting after you and what was under the shorts, no, he wanted to try, and you knew that he'd only ever try if it was for you.

"Yes," you affirm. There's no warble in the note of your voice.

Pavitr grins, lazily and closed-mouthed, hooks his fingers around the elastic and starts working the whole thing down in one shot, shorts and underwear all. Warm lips press to the bony cradle just above your mound, your hips twitch under their smack.

"Thank you for trusting me with your body, sweet girl," he says. "I promise you, you will not regret this."

The shorts are worked over your knees, your ankles, and then they're off. Your knees drop off to the sides, you ponder closing them for a moment, covering yourself up like the shy virgin you once were all that time ago. That thought doesn't get a chance to linger, as sloppy, sucking kisses are quickly alternating up your inner thighs, firm enough not to tickle, but enough for the muscle to tense beneath Pavitr's mouth with a yelp, the sensitive spot a direct line to your exposed core.

"Aanhh—" you whine as Pavitr gets closer and closer to where you'd really like him to be. He does get awfully close, the rounded point of his nose bumping against the juncture of your hip and thigh, the corner of his mouth brushing the curve of your vulva as he inhales, smiles. Suddenly, the really nice pressure is sadly gone, Pavitr's propped up on his elbows and gazing down between your legs, while you're slack-jawed huffing and puffing from arousal.

"You're really pretty here," he husks. He mouths at the soft swell just below your navel with deep mauve-colored lips, lets warmth curl up there.

"Why are you staring?" you whinge, averting your eyes.

"Why not? This part of you is divine," Pavitr waxes poetic. "And you deserve to be told as much, because it doesn't sound like you've been hearing it."

"Umm...thanks? I guess?" you sputter, incredulously. You want to shrink away from the compliment, but your boyfriend (your insufferable sap of a boyfriend) isn't having it.

"Shush, you," he jokingly chides, his breath hot against your delicate flesh. "Go away. Let me explain to my girlfriend that her pussy is perfect in peace."

"Pavitr, you're obnoxio—oh FUCK!" your words are cut off with a cry as your entire cunt is swallowed up in a sucking kiss, like the ones Pavitr had dotted along your thighs. There's nothing lazy or perfunctory about this, the suction is just right and there's nothing like the way his soft lips feel sliding against your intimate skin. He pops off with a wet, lewd smack that rebounds around the bedroom.

Pavitr snickers lowly at your reaction, and turns his head to take each of your lower lips between his, run his tongue along and beside the soft, fatty parts before delicately suckling the inner lips betwixt them. His next kiss finishes with a deep lick, one that parts your lower lips at the seam and makes you jump when a wet tongue brushes past your clit.

"Good?" he asks, an inquisitive arch on his brow as he attempts to get a glimpse of your face. His mouth doesn't leave your pussy, simply ghosts against it when he speaks. It's a hint of a touch that makes you prickle, teeny frissons along your spine from your core that sprout behind your ears.

"Very," you tell him, nodding furiously, hoping that will spur him to get on with it.

Pavitr smears a messy, affectionate kiss to the inside of your left thigh before securing his hands on the crests of your hips.

"Love you," he purrs. He nuzzles against the inner thigh with his cheek before returning to his work.

Pavitr treats you to a make-out session with your lower lips, his tongue and lips exploring every dip and curve he can find. Every flick, kiss, suck, even gentle tugs between his teeth carries intention, you can feel the weight of it in each stroke. This is not the same halfhearted attempts at the pretense of 'doing his part' you're used to, he's losing himself to the task, eyes fluttered shut behind the ebony drape of his hair as he drinks you down. It's the same way he moves his mouth when he takes a bite out of a ripe mango, your wetness dripping down his chin when he slurps on your sex. "Pavi....Pav...hah..." you wheeze. Your chest heaves in harsh breaths as a delicious, gentle heat stretches out low in your belly and finds a home there. Your boyfriend steadily continues to make love to you with his mouth, you can't resist locking your ankles together atop his upper back, he responds in turn by scooching your hips just that little bit closer, wanting as close to zero space between his tongue and your intimate flesh as possible. "Your taste, it's sofuckengood, fuck," Pavitr slurs into your cunt. You notice him shifting around just out of your field of vision. Is he...rutting his hips into the bed? Pavitr licks straight up your seam on the flat of his tongue, ends with a suck on your clit that's enough to pull it out of its hood. A sharp bolt of pleasure triggers your cunt to clench around nothing. "Holyshitholyshitdontstop" you babble to the room. Your feet kick out behind him, your hand that was bunching up the flat sheet flies to his shade-colored waves, tangles in the dense mop of hair to hold his face against your pussy. "That's the plan, dove," Pavitr rasps. He gets right back to it, delivering the same treatment to every part of your pussy. The two-o'-clock sunlight streams in rich sheafs through the window, it leaves amber dapples on his back that bend and stretch with every flex of his well-developed back muscles, they collect in the valley of his spine, the two little dimples that sit above his waistband.

This? This is nice. It's nice like this, the both of you laying here, embraced by the mid-day sun. Pleasure laps at you like waves at low tide, it's warm, warm like the sand between your toes. Your boyfriend is taking your pussy apart with his mouth, the touch of his tongue isn't teasing, neither harsh, nor lazy. It's earnest, steady, and oh is it affectionate, too. He's not here to pay some sort of toll or fee to access your body, he's basking in how wet you're getting for him, the plush of your skin against his lips, your heady scent, the sharpness of your flavor on his tongue. Pavitr's mouth cherishes this entire part of you the same way he does to the rest of you with his words. He's in no hurry, but he has no intention of making you beg or plead for your first release, he simply wishes to take you by the hand and lead you there, walk you to the door and kiss you goodnight at the threshold of a place you didn't believe existed. He knows the way, has learned the road well, and guides you there with no fuss. Yes, you think, this is nice. It starts out as a fullness, a pressure on the inside that makes you want to tighten up, squeeze around it and keep it from getting out. The pleasure sitting heavy in your belly becomes urgent, it sinks low, low, lower. The sensation is strangely familiar to you, but it's off. You feel like you're about to burst, about to— "Pavitr, stop, I'm gonna—I have to—" you reach with your free hand to stop him. Pavitr finds your hand with one of his, takes it and laces your fingers together.

"Hey. No, sweet girl, this is good. You're supposed to feel that. It means you're here," he explains, gives his head a shake so you can meet his eyes without his hair in the way. A thumb strums back and forth along the dorsum of your hand. "All you have to do is let it ride. I'll catch you, I always have," he reassures. Your head feels like it's full of bees, it feels like there's a water balloon sitting low in the cradle of your pelvis, it's scary, it's intimate, but you want more. "You promise?" you ask timidly. It seems silly to ask this of him, but you do anyway. Pavitr responds with a kiss, the softest one yet, to your lower lips. "Baby girl, I'd promise you everything," he almost growls into your pussy.

Pavitr renews his focus onto your clit, taking it between his lips and tracing upon it the outlines of flower petals with his tongue. He sups on you, over and over again, batters your pearl about with the point of his tongue, coaxing it out from its protective cloak with a please please oh please pretty please. He does not demand, he waits, arms outstretched. The fullness and urgency quickly returns, you clench down, breath held instinctively. You can't hold it anymore, you yank on his hair, and he moans into your vulva when he feels the sharp twinge on his scalp. You feel like you're going to pop and his face is right there eating you and he said he'd catch you and he's holding your hand when you pav pav pav please oh please pav i have to It's warm here The molten heat nested below your navel loses its shape, pours like molasses down your legs, between your ribs, to the points of your fingers and burbles at your throat. Warm, sticky, wet, spilling out of your core in a steady trickle. Your voice catches in a sigh, the floor of your ribcage drops as the tension eases away in a steady throb, you feel it in your cunt as Pavitr keeps on drawing mindless doodles over your clit with his mouth. It's not fireworks, it's not an explosion, it's sunrise on the roof, three o' clock on the beach in July, it's hot chocolate in December, sticky sweet affection poured into you through your sex and spilling out over the edges. It's a safe place, a joyful place, bubbly, bright, and warm. A place, a home he built for you beneath your skin, in a grove you've been too wary, too exhausted to claim as your own. He presses the key into your palm, at long last, and you are all too happy to invite him inside, in that space between your ribs. Your eyes flutter shut as a gentle tongue laps slowly, soothingly at your swollen flesh, cleans up your release as you give yourself over to the ebb of the tide. Lips tenderly trail up your mound, your navel, your sternum, your nose. Hands cup your face as the lips find purchase on your forehead, your unfocused eyes open to fuzzy strokes of bronze, charcoal, ivory. "Yes, Ahava, hello. Hi," Pavitr purrs. Your eyes adjust, the blotches of color wend into a familiar form, and there he is. He's positively glowing, both with a fondness and pride, not of himself, but for you, like he's swallowed down the sun itself. His chin and mouth bear a fine gloss from your wetness. "Whazzat? Pav?" you burble, your tongue fumbling with the words. You find that you've been curiously transformed into a pile of mush, your corporeal form broken free of its solid container.

Your boyfriend chuckles above you, and brushes a few downy hairs off your forehead where sweat holds them down.

"How's that orgasm treating you?" he smugly inquires. "...S'nice," you slur, not quite realizing how dopey your face must look. "Kinda feels like I have to pee." Pavitr covers his mouth with his hands to hide his laughter. "Alright, well, you hang tight and enjoy the afterglow, beautiful. I just need two seconds to take care of something real quick," he says. You watch as he reaches over the side of the bed and fishes around for something. "Where are you going?" you ask, a wave of sadness and worry coming over you, remembering past partners who would never stay when the act was said and done, leaving you to your feelings. "Nowhere, silly," he teases, tongue stuck out. "Just gotta make a wardrobe adjustment, then all the snuggles you can handle, I promise." You find yourself unable to reply when he works his jeans off of his hips, and the boxer-briefs with them. The tips of your ears heat up like a gas grill when you're given a generous glimpse of prominent hip bones, lithe, defined quads, and an absolutely sumptuous ass that makes your mouth water, you resist the urge to sink your teeth into it. "Hey, Pavitr, I can, 'yanno, return the favor," you offer. "Oh, that won't be necessary," he quickly replies as he skips the boxer briefs and pulls on a pair of sweats he'd left on the floor. A hint of something you can't put your finger on tinges the timbre of his voice, and that's when you notice the flush in his cheeks. Oh.

"Pav...did you...?" you hesitate to say it out loud, your brain refusing to form the words. Pavitr crawls up the bed next to you, immediately rewarding you with the tightest, most perfect snuggle he's ever given you. You're face to face, noses but a hair's breadth apart. "As a matter of fact, I did," he admits, turning his cheek into the pillow. "Knowing I was giving you this experience and seeing how much you were enjoying it, it was so damn erotic and I couldn't help but go off the edge with you. Imagine that, being the woman that made Spider-Man come in his pants by just being." "Well, I'm glad I could do that for you," you jape. Your head feels less foggy, the afterglow abating to something cozy and secure, nicely contained in Pavitr's hold. "I'm glad I could do this for you," he counters with a tap of a finger to your nose. "This was all for you, anyway, you owe me nothing. I knew you could do it, and I'm so proud of you. You just needed a patient hand. Or tongue," he winks. "You're insufferable," you groan, burying your head against his bare chest. Pavitr chortles and kisses the top of your head. "I'm talented. And I have many, many orgasms to make up for," he rebukes. His voice feels like silk, it's dripping with ego and it makes your mouth go dry. "Hopefully they're all like this one was. I keep hearing that it's supposed to be...erm...explosive, but this one was just...nice," you comment. Pavitr considers this a moment, and then you know you fucked up when you see his lips quirk into a wicked grin, a devilish gleam in his eye as one hand tightens its grip around your bare hip. "I see...say, I don't think I ever returned the favor for that upside down kiss you gave me when we met," he muses aloud. "No, I don't believe you did," you confirm, wondering where he's going with this. "Oh..." he rises to a kneel on the bed, the covers falling away to expose your calves. "Then I guess now might be a good time to do just that," he proposes.

"What do you mean by tha—ohgod!" you yip, as Pavitr uses his enhanced strength to pull you down the bed by your ankles, and then hoist your thighs all the way up to his ears, his hands settling on your hips. You're nearly suspended entirely upside-down and he's immediately ravaging your sensitive cunt with this mouth, lewd smacks rebound around the room as the blade of his tongue digs deep between your lower lips. "Jesus fuck, Pav, why are you so good at everything?" you whine, your heels thumping against his back, an expression of the pleasure rapidly coursing through your body. Pavitr doesn't reply to this, only hums an acknowledgement into your pussy. At this angle, the extra pressure from his face on your clit does a lot of work, and being manhandled by your superhero boyfriend like a ragdoll...yes please. His fingers curl into the flesh of your thighs, his lips lathe aggressively at your inner lips and clit, you can only watch as he pulls his head up just enough to tug at them with a firm suck that makes something deep in your core light up like Christmas, and then releases them with a salacious pop before going right back in to swallow, to consume, to lap you up until there's nothing left to. Pavitr's playing for keeps this time, he's not looking for a gentle release, he wants to give you the orgasm you've only heard about in stories, one that knocks you on your ass that you'll still feel the next morning. He's nothing if not a show-off, and that trait of his is on full display.

"Pavitr Prabhak—ah!" you moan, your legs flailing behind him. "You smug jackass! It's not faaaaaaair!"

Your kicking and screaming (literally) does nothing. Pavitr doesn't let up, his lips and tongue devour and his face smashes into your pussy in relentless pursuit of your climax. You squirm, but his mouth chases, and with you upside down in what you would have never expected the Spider-Man kiss to entail, you're helpless to stop it, vulnerable and ripe for the taking. But you're safe. Cared for. Loved. You can feel it in how his grip on you is gentle enough to leave no marks, the way his thumbs stroke over the skin there. The way he bends forward just enough to keep your head and shoulders on the pillow so you won't hit them on anything, or get dizzy. This scene is filthy, pornographic even with his athleticism, but as your second peak of the night comes hurtling at you, neither of you have ever felt more in love than you do right now. You have trusted him with your body in all ways like you rarely have before, and he's more than shown you he's worthy.

You come with a shout, you clench hard on empty space until you can't, it feels like a sneeze, an insane blossom of pure ecstasy from your center that blooms in a riot of red, pink, yellow, orange behind your eyelids. You feel your cunt gushing, squirting even, followed by an immense relief. Your heart pounds in your ears, your ribcage struggles to expand and contract with your breathing, it feels like you're flying, soaring in the wind. There's a fizzling, tickling feeling creeping along your arms and legs and worming its way into your brain, your pussy feels aflame, overtaxed despite the calming strokes Pavitr is now using to soak up your juices. Your abs feel sore, and you feel physically and emotionally drained, the overstimulation hits all at once, and—are you crying?

"Awww little love, it's okay. Come here, darling, I've gotcha, shhhh," Pavitr's voice breaks through the swell of emotions frothing in your chest, he sets your legs down and bundles you close beneath the blankets. "You've been through a lot of new things today, sonu. You're overwhelmed, it's completely normal and your mind just needs a minute to sort itself out," he explains, you turn your head to see all traces of mischief gone from it, only soft features remain. The flat of a hand drags up and down your spine, warm lips dot squishy kisses along your cheek and temple. "I—I thought I was broken," you blubber. "I've been trying for years." "Not broken at all, no ma'am, I even double checked," he quips with a wink. It makes you snort and you can't stop yourself from swatting his chest. "You simply hadn't been shown how sex is supposed to be: none of it works if you're not feeling safe or secure first," he says more seriously. The blunt edges of his nails slowly drag along your back, scratching carefully, it's deeply satisfying and it makes you feel calm.

"So you're saying I couldn't for so long because...I wasn't feeling safe?" you ask, past memories starting to click into place.

"Mmm, precisely so," Pavitr hums. An unhurried kiss is fluttered against your lips, the flavor a bit different than the ones before, you wonder if it's you that you're tasting. "Sex is art, dove. It doesn't just come down to technique, if your mind is worried or not feeling cared for, you're not going to be able to be vulnerable with yourself enough to feel good, or your partner, for that matter. Your partner needs to be invested in your experience, and not as a means to an end for them," he explains, his nose nuzzling yours now. "That means taking the time to make you comfortable, listening to you and instead of rushing you through, and for fuck's sake, they need to give proper aftercare, Jesus," he finishes his rant with a grumble. The protective hold around you tightens, cuing you to snuggle closer into your boyfriend.

"Aftercare...is that why I got upset when an ex went to play video games when we were done?" you ask, everything suddenly making so much more sense.

Pavitr shudders and pulls you even closer, if that were possible, you burrow into his chest. Your legs tangle together under the blanket as he kisses the space between your eyebrows.

"Oh my God, why are men like this," he mumbles under his breath. "Yes, aftercare is making sure your partner is feeling okay and safe after you're done. Sex is intense, physically and emotionally, and if they weren't making the effort to take care of you like this after, it's no wonder you didn't have any fond memories of it. I hate that those were your first experiences, but that will never happen again, I can promise you that."

"Oh...so right now, this...this is aftercare?" you ask shyly. You think it sounds silly at your big age to be asking this, but since you're both putting everything on the table, you might as well learn for the future.

Pavitr senses the discomfort and tips your chin up to meet his eyes. They're still sparkling, but carry a stern edge to them.

"Hey, there are no dumb questions with me," he firmly reassures, his eyes softening further. "Yes, this is one way aftercare can look. It can also mean things like...like rubbing their back, or watching a movie they like together. Maybe even taking a bath with them or giving them a massage, just little things to reassure them and help them come down gently from an intense moment. It's the best part, in my book," he purrs.

You're inclined to agree. You're all tuckered out, your limbs have definitely turned to jelly with no chance of reconstitution, you feel buzzy on the inside in the best way, and it's warm and toasty here under the blankets, tangled up together, his bare skin on your cheek. You're basking in each other's afterglow and he's lavishing as much affection on you as he's got to offer, there's nothing closer, nothing better than this. Well, except maybe one thing...

"Can we...can we take a bath too?" you suggest, uncertainly.

Pavitr scrunches up his round nose as his eyes wrinkle at the corners.

"You act like I'd say no to that. Of course we can, dove!" he exclaims. "You're the one who had her first two orgasms in a row, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't let you pick?" he's already hefting himself off the bed to carry you there himself.

"Together with me?" you kiss at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, all you can reach from his hold, your feet dangle limply in the bridal carry. Pavitr looks down on you with a besotted expression.

"I like the sound of that," he cooes in your ear as you cross the room. "And I wanna wash your hair with my shampoo again, I loved smelling it on you the next morning."

"But Pav, your shampoo is expensive!" you protest.

"You just had a screaming orgasm, like, ten minutes ago, let me spoil you at least a little," he counters. He nudges the door open where it's ajar with a hip check, being sure not to jostle you.

"That's already spoiling me!" you argue.

Pavitr laughs, deeply kisses your mouth like he did your center, and closes the bathroom door behind him with his heel.

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starvity · 9 months

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hi! i really like you work🥺 if reqs aren’t open ignore this but if they are could i please request a taeyoung vity fluff? maybe something like MC’ing with his crush or something! ty and have a good one❤️‍🩹

— ☆ mc'ing with crush!taeyoung

idol gn!reader x cravity taeyoung

genre: fluff, idol!au // warnings: mutual crushing!! who cheered?! just taeyoung being a flirt, did i forget anything...?

author’s note: thank you sooo much!! <3 took me a moment to get inspired for this one but it was so fun to write!! i'm so sane and normal about taeyoung like, that did not make me delusional at all... (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

you let out a sigh of relief as your promotions for your new album have ended after 3 weeks. the past few months have been particularly tiring for you ; you had to prepare for your comeback while being on tour and record the tracks and film the music video as soon as you were back in seoul.

you were so happy to finally be able to rest as your company announced a two-week break for your group after your hectic schedule. unfortunately (or not), you were offered a 6-month contract to host 'after school club' every tuesday!

you show the staff a mixed facial expression at the sudden news. you knew this was a good opportunity to get your group known, especially since your last title track got popular. but that also meant that you were unable to go back to see your family for the holidays. suddenly, something sparked your interest as they were explaining you what the job consisted of ; "who am i going to work with?". you’ve been training alone for quite a long time, seeing all your friends debut before you, so you thought that it wouldn’t be too bad to make some new friends in the industry. "taeyoung from cravity will be working with you, you will get to meet him next week."

friends, you said? you nod at the staff, finding it difficult to hide the light tint of pink creeping up your cheeks. taeyoung and you had in fact already met, without your company knowing about it. you were promoting your debut album on music shows at the same time and randomly met in the hallways. it was still really early in the morning and all of your other teammates were sleeping in the waiting room. you decided to go get a drink from the vending machine just outside the door when you ran into him. he smiled shyly, two cinnamoroll pins still in his hair as he had probably gotten his makeup done just now. he suddenly bowed down, greeting you "hello, i’m taeyoung from cravity". you bowed back and smiled, hinting with your eyes that you were waiting to get yourself a drink. "can i get you something, i accidentally took too much money." what a weird request, you thought. if he has too much money, can't he just keep it for next time? you don’t know why but you found his question quite endearing and accepted the offer.

finally, the live broadcast for your first appearance as a mc is starting in 2 hours. you try to calm yourself down during rehearsal so you can appear as relaxed as possible on camera. however, that was not an easy task since you could basically feel taeyoung’s knee graze against yours when you were sitting together on the sofa, reviewing the ments for today. he was close enough for you to hear his soft breathing and smell his cologne. "you seem to be quite distracted today. nervous?" he asks softly. without you knowing, taeyoung and you have become quite close, close enough for him to notice when your vibe is slightly off. you sigh "i really don’t want to mess this up." he chuckles, "i’m sure you’ll do great. we’ll do great!" he pats your thigh reassuringly. god, was he trying to make you less nervous? while looking at you with such eyes? you had promised yourself to stay as professional as possible with him when you started working together. you didn't want any stupid rumors ruining both of your new careers. but when you see how his eyes shift to your lips with a small grin growing on his face, you wonder ; does he feel the same way about me?

the show went much better than you expected. you happily thank the staff and head back to the waiting room. "you did great taeyoung! i think you're going to gain a lot of fans." you giggle, taking a sip of water and finally feeling your nervousness disappear. "are you not afraid of me stealing yours?" he asks jokingly but with a somehow serious face and you take notice of the abrupt silence that had settled in the room, as you two were alone. he then turns his phone screen towards you, showing how both your names were trending on twitter. you click on the hashtags out of curiosity and suddenly feel your whole face heat up when you see what the netizens were talking about. "first day on the job and people are already shipping us" taeyoung laughs while you were hiding behind your hands, unable to look at him. a few seconds pass and you feel a pair of warm hands coming to rest on top of yours before forcing them off your face. as you open your eyes, you see that taeyoung is standing ridiculously close to you with a stupid smirk painted on his face. "if we kiss now, how many months do you think it'll take for them to find out?" he blurts out, his eyes serious and teasing. "can you keep a secret?"

#starvity.text #cravity #cravity imagines #cravity scenarios #cravity fluff #cravity x reader #kim taeyoung #taeyoung x reader #taeyoung imagines #taeyoung scenarios #taeyoung fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop texts #kpop smau

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 6 months

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The Weight of Being a "Good Friend"

@tss-anxceit-week Day 3: Trust & Betrayal Canonverse 2,535 Words

Logan appeared in Virgil’s room with his arms folded behind his back, looking at Virgil pointedly. Virgil tensed and paused chewing on his nails to look at him, jumping off the top of his couch to greet him. After a shared quizzical expression, Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah? What is it?” Virgil demanded, not bothering with politeness or disguising the fatigue in his voice.

Logan nodded to the couch and Virgil stepped back to let Logan in, who went to go sit on the couch. Virgil shut the door quietly and went to go lean on the wall near him, swallowing heavily and looking down to the ground.

“Virgil, you know I do not handle emotional aspects, but I have been... concerned about your behaviour lately. You seem to always be tired, and you haven’t been talking to Thomas, either. It’s obvious that something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is.” Logan said quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand.

"I’m fine, Logan.” Virgil glanced up at Logan through his bangs, who’s face remained apprehensive. “Yeah, you don’t believe that. Well, whatever. I’m not talking about it. Everybody will think I’m blowing things out of proportion.” Virgil shook his head, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“I promise I will not. Virgil, I need to know what’s going on. This does not seem sustainable,” Logan pleaded emphatically, gripping at his knees.

Virgil hesitated, examining Logan’s face for a moment. His brow was furrowed, and he worried his lip with his teeth for a second before noticing and stopping. “I’ll think about it,” Virgil offered instead. Logan watched Virgil a little longer before nodding in agreement. “Get back to your busy schedule. I’m going to bed.” He stood up straight from off the wall, and Logan looked at him in surprise for a second before getting off the couch. It wasn’t that late, but the expanded dark patches under his eyes and unusually pale color of his skin said that he needed the rest. Virgil watched him closely as he moved, his eyes tracking Logan with a weak wave as he lowered out of the room.

Logan hummed curiously and walked down the stairs and to the kitchen table, depositing himself on a chair. Roman and Patton were situated on the couch, watching TV along with Thomas quietly. It seemed like an average evening. Logan summoned his planner and reviewed the schedule, like he often did in the evenings, but he struggled with focusing. He glanced up at the stairs once more and sighed. Anxiety was still clearly very present in Thomas’s life, but Virgil not communicating about his issue was a problem.

The way Patton also worried his lip when he thought no one was looking made the inefficacy more apparent. Logan was frustrated by missing information and left feeling restless when there were unresolved problems. He took a deep breath and put his head down on the table, pushing the schedule aside.

“What’s got ya down, kiddo?” Patton asked, leaning in near Logan. Logan jumped slightly in surprise, not realizing Patton had gotten so close.

“I am simply tired, Patton. I think it would be wise to turn in early tonight,” Logan stated, sitting up at the table and adjusting his tie. “I’d like to set an alarm so that Thomas doesn’t stay up late on his phone again,” he added, projecting slightly louder for Roman to hear.

“What if the next post is the right inspiration he needs for something new?” Roman pipped up, looking more interested in the television than the conversation.

“He can find it tomorrow. He will not have the time or the energy to do anything with the inspiration tonight. He could perhaps even miss the post that might be inspiring in his exhaustion,” Logan pointed out the obvious flaw in his logic.

“Last time we tried that, Thomas just turned off the alarm and kept scrolling.” Patton pulled out a dining chair and joined Logan at the table.

“If we come to an accord and agree to not do that tonight, it should not be an issue again,” Logan asserted, pulling the schedule back up to him to return to examining.

“That sounds fair,” Patton said, nodding sagely and holding his chin. “Roman?” He called out to confirm.

“Fine. I guess.” Roman agreed as well, though clearly very reluctantly. Logan let out a small breath of relief and let Thomas know to set a ‘doom-scroll’ alarm for later. Logan glanced over to Virgil’s door again, wondering if Virgil was already asleep.

“Are you wondering if Virge is gonna join us tonight?” Patton asked, folding one arm on the table and propping up his head with the other.

“No, Virgil stated that he was going to bed earlier.” Logan shook his head and flipped the page on his planner, making sure the things that were missed today were recorded to do tomorrow.

“Oh! Now, that’s surprising from my spooky son. Last month, I caught him sitting under the kitchen table watching conspiracy theories on his phone at two in the morning while I was trying to figure out why Thomas couldn’t fall asleep,” Patton explained with a slight fond chuckle.

“Indeed,” Logan hummed. “I doubt that will be a problem tonight. He appeared to be incredibly exhausted when he told me he was going to bed.” He summoned a pencil to adjust the time on something scheduled for tomorrow that did not seem like it had enough of a time cushion.

“He really hasn’t been around much,” Patton mused, throwing a glance at the stairs and sounding melancholy.

“It has been quite quiet,” Roman stated, shifting on the living room floor as he kept watching television.

“Those are both accurate summations,” Logan validated both their points distractedly.

“Are you worried about Virgil?” Patton asked kindly, looking at Logan with a soft expression.

“I am always concerned with productivity. Thomas is very hard to work with when he keeps falling prey to distractions.” Logan rubbed his face, knocking at his glasses briefly before adjusting them back into position.

“I think he’s easier to work with,” Roman muttered under his breath.

“We have very different jobs, Roman, and I know you are also frustrated by the current state of Thomas’s hair,” Logan reminded him passively.

“Ugh, we better not get any visitors or video calls,” Roman groaned.

“We’re just home alone watching TV, you two, there’s no harm in messy hair,” Patton chided, tapping the table.

“I am aware, Patton, but it is better to be presentable as a form of preparedness rather than letting healthy self-care habits slide. Thomas’s appearance is important to him, and that changing suddenly is an indicator of an issue,” Logan reminded them, adjusting his glasses. Logan looked up from planner and over to Thomas, who wasn’t even watching TV and on his phone again, already doom-scrolling. Logan groaned, closing up the planner and sending it off, standing up from the couch.

“What’s up, teach?” Roman asked, distracted by looking over Thomas’ shoulder to see the phone.

“I don’t believe anything productive is happening tonight,” Logan replied shortly. “Thomas, set an alarm to get ready for bed on your phone,” he told Thomas loudly enough to not be ignored, and Thomas blinked a few times, looking at Logan before switching to the alarm app and setting one for nine PM. “You’ll ignore that one, it is too early. Set an alarm for 11:30 PM and take it seriously when it goes off,” Logan insisted firmly. Roman rolled his eyes, letting out a little huff and Thomas just looked at Logan oddly. “Thomas.”

“Fine, okay, got it,” Thomas replied, setting the alarm where requested. He didn’t seem concerned about not getting enough sleep in the slightest, despite even Virgil valuing that by going to bed early. If Virgil did go to bed, at all. Logan technically couldn’t confirm. The alarm was set, so other than checking in at 11:30, Logan wasn’t needed here for doom-scrolling, so he left to his room to review the memories for the day to make sure the important ones were stored correctly.

———

Virgil paced the room helplessly, long since having given up on trying to sleep. He felt so damn exhausted all the time, but the sleep just wouldn’t come. He was completely on edge, racing thoughts of things that could happen and how terribly things were going plagued every corner of his mind. Checking in on Thomas revealed he was still doom-scrolling, with Patton making quiet awkward stammering noises and looking at the clock. Virgil Let out a heavy sigh and tugged at the zipper on his hoodie sleeve, pulling it up and down while he walked.

“Not that your little failure of a lie earlier wasn’t amusing, Virgil, but if you’re going to go out of your way to fib, shouldn’t you do something more fun than pacing about like a caged animal?” Janus asked in a silky smooth voice, and Virgil jumped, turning to see Janus sitting on the couch with his legs crossed and leaning his chin on an arm resting on his knee.

“Get out of here!” Virgil shot, motioning away.

“Really, you should work on your subterfuge. Dreadful stuff,” Janus teased, grinning at Virgil like a shark would at his dinner.

“I didn’t mean to lie about going to bed, I just couldn’t get to sleep!” Virgil protested, hunching over and glaring at Janus. “Seriously, what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded shortly.

“I was talking about that little squeaky ‘I’m fine’ you tried, but that one was also truly heinous,” Janus replied with the bite of snark.

“Hey, I didn’t squeak!” Virgil clenched his fists as he glowered at Janus.

“Po-tay-to, Po-tot-to,” Janus hummed, drumming his fingers on his chin. “Now, what are you doing trying to lie when it is my thing and clearly not your forté?” He asked with a smug purr in his voice.

Virgil stared at Janus incredulously for a moment, but the expression never faltered, keeping his cool confidence despite the confused stare. “It’s—It’s you, Janus!”

“Yes, lord of the lies, at your service,” Janus said.

“No, I mean, you’re causing this!” Virgil hissed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and returning to pacing.

“If it was me, I would have lied impeccably, thank you very much,” Janus refuted, sitting up and folding his hands on his lap.

“I hate not bringing it up, and I hate trying to be a ‘good friend’,” Virgil muttered, kicking his sneaker as he turned around during his endless march.

“Of course you do. Terrible thing, really. Now, for the spider’s benefit, seeing as I fully understand, can you explain exactly about what?” Janus asked airily, twisting his gloved hand a little in the air.

Virgil rolled his eyes and huffed. “Elliot’s new boyfriend, Mitchell. He’s awful. And I know Elliot asked us to let them figure it out themselves. And I know we agreed. But it’s killing me to think about what’s going on behind closed doors if that’s how he acts in public,” he explained bitterly.

Janus froze and blinked, then facetiously coughed a few times to hide his surprise. “Virgil, you know that has nothing to do with us, along with the rest of these things you’re so positive about? He could be just the same, or better. Why are you assuming it’s terrible? And why are you acting like it’s our job to fix it when Elliot is their own person?”

“They’re our friend, and we don’t want them hurt, doy!” Virgil smacked himself in the temple with his fist and made a face.

“You can’t save people from being hurt. It’s just an unfortunate part of life,” Janus replied flatly, his face setting seriously.

“Well, maybe it freaking sucks! Maybe it’s normal to be worried about your friends. Why don’t you look past yourself for one freaking second and see how bad this situation is,” Virgil said angrily, his speed picking up as he walked back and forth.

“Not like this, you’re blowing things out of proportion,” Janus replied, his voice faltering.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone! You’re always telling me I’m overreacting, but eventually I’m not going to be, and Elliot could be the one suffering for it!” Virgil threw his arms in the air and scuffed his shoe on the carpet.

“Virgil. Stop,” Janus said, and Virgil paused to look at him. Janus patted the spot on the couch next to him, and Virgil stomped over to drop onto the couch, just to make it clear he wasn’t fighting for the sake of fighting. “Sometimes, in life, we have to watch our friends and loved ones suffer. Even though we knew there was a better way. Or a compromise. Because they want to be the ones to make their own mistakes. Elliot asked us to drop it, so we did. We can bring it up again if—”

“When,” Virgil insisted.

“If we see it again. And suggest healthier boundaries, because we don’t want to see them hurt. But I’m afraid it’s Elliot’s life and ultimately Elliot’s choice. And no amount of panic or anger will change that. We simply can’t spend all of our time and energy on trying to change something we have no say in. Thomas is sitting out there doom-scrolling because he’s burnt out, even though he already knows that no amount of Twitter will quiet the duke’s suggestions. You know what to do in these situations already. Now look at me and tell me what we’re going to do,” Janus insisted firmly.

“It’s called ‘X’ now,” Virgil said in annoyance, but Janus only glared at him with thinly pressed lips. “Take a deep breath. Tell myself that this is something I can’t change. Try to adapt. Focus on moving forward,” Virgil recited in defeat.

“Right. And we don’t have to keep silent. Nor do we have to stay friends with Elliot, either, if this keeps hurting us. But we should still respect Elliot’s wishes and assume they can handle themselves. They have done so for all the years before we met them. But it’s still their job to speak up in their relationship if they’re unhappy. If we butt in and try to fix things for them, the odds are good it’ll do nothing but breed resentment. We have to live our life and Elliot has to live theirs,” Janus said reassuringly, melting the bitterness from Virgil’s face. Virgil took a deep breath and nodded, letting out the air as a tired sigh. “Is there anything else I need to intelligently and humbly point out before you kick me out of your room?” Janus teased.

Virgil looked up at him, reaching for the capelet with a small tug. “Stay?” Janus wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder, and he leaned in, still holding on to the fabric. They sat there in comfortable silence as Virgil’s breathing evened out and the light in the living room went out when Thomas switched it off. “Tell anyone this happened, and I’ll kill you,” Virgil whispered silently.

“I’ll alert the presses,” Janus scoffed, rubbing Virgil’s shoulder.

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moenonsense · 5 months

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Yandere Rant.

What Is A Yandere.

—The "yan" in "yandere" comes from the verb "yanderu", which means "to be mentally sick."

"Dere" is an abbreviation of "deredere", which means "lovey-dovey." —

[A Yandere is a character who seems sweet and innocent on the outside, while on the inside they're obsessive and aggressive.]

We all know this, right?

Is the most basic and common definition of a Yandere, cute and innocent.

Some examples of this type are characters like;

Yuno Gasai from Mirai Nikki, the most known Yandere and who made the trope popular in it's early days, earning her the name of the 'Queen of Yanderes', at least in the side of the fandom I was in at the time, as Mirai Nikki was one of the first animes I've ever watched.

Kotonoha Katsura and Sekai Saionji from School Days, an anime that caused shock at the time due it's ending, coming from a visual novel (and a saga) that has a whole lot of another endings that show their Yandere behavior.

Misa Amane from Death Note, most popular although we're not fully able to see her in proper Yandere behavior aside from her.. devotion, to the main protagonist.

And one of my personal favorites, although kinda problematic? But I'll use her as an example on how a Yandere character can see love.

Satou Matsuzaka, from Happy Sugar Life.

I'll be talking about my personal take of the characters, the trope, and in general how I see these type of characters I'll be talking about.

I'm not an expert, I watched Mirai Nikki when I was 7, watched a review of the whole School Days visual novel and it's ending, and the only manga I've take the time to read it's Happy Sugar Life, so I might be biased, and probably totally romanticizing this but i'm writing this because it's a bit tiring seeing the 'Yandere' characters being written down to just "I'll KILL whoever DARES to BREATH the same air as my beloved!" Instead of the original 'two-faced' character that it was supposed to be, and also just for fun.

I'll call Yanderes only the characters that are explicitly driven by love. Not just killing because they're evil or for fun.. kinda.

Spoilers under the cut.

Let's start with Gasai Yuno.

She was my first introduction to the Yandere Trope, and the hold it had on me for my whole teen years.

She's first shown as.. I think a popular classmate? of the protagonist, Yukiteru Amano, pretty, mysterious, and she's quick to claim her love for the protagonist when she tells him how to survive the serial killer after him.

Then she pretty much carries him the whole anime, for no other reason than "I love you, Yukki!" Which makes the moment of "You can use me, I don't mind" a mess.

But, personally, she's not that 'baseless', at least in her love for Yukiteru, since there's a small scene in the anime's background that indicates that things happened differently in the first world.

The second world, the one the anime sets in and where we follow Yukiteru's point of view. We're we don't know why she's so insistent to protect and do anything for him.

I don't remember correctly, but if Yuno had time traveled or not by the time she made the promise with Yukki to marry, it still works.

If not, she's still that innocent girl who maybe has a crush on her classmate and has something to look forward to, despite having to bear her home life.

If yes, she just came back from a whole timeline where he was the one who protected and helped her survive the killing game, only for him to commit and leave her alone again.

Wether it was her survival instinct or her having seconds thoughts and thinking he wouldn't actually die for her. She was already at a point where she loved him, she was vulnerable, and was just handed the power to become a God, and she sure was willing to change the curse of time if it meant to be with him again.

She wanted to protect him, just like he protected her in the first world, not matter what she had to do.

Kotonoha Katsura + Sekai Saionji.

She's presented as a shy girl who's disliked by her female classmates and chased by her male classmates by her big breasts since she developed earlier.

As far as I remember, her situation at home isn't great either, she doesn't have any friends, and struggles in her love life due being unable to interact with men properly.

That is, until Sekai Saionji becomes her friend.

Sekai, unlike Kotonoha, is popular among their classmates and is the one who introduced Kotonoha to Makoto, and the one helping him to win Kotonoha's heart, telling him what to do when he messes up to win her over again, and ultimately, the one who ruins it all.

Kotonoha decides to let herself give in and becomes Makoto's girlfriend, even kissing him, which for her was a huge step, but for Makoto.. the relationship wasn't going as fast as he would like to.

And Sekai had also developed feelings for Makoto at one point, kissing him as a 'reward' for her help in pairing him with Kotonoha, which just gave Makoto another option to do when he was bored of his girlfriend.

Now, I fully condone cheating, under no excuse, it's the worst thing someone could do, in my eyes.

But, being the devil's advocate, they were teens, right? since the anime literally sets in a school, teens aren't that mature to think how to deal with a relationship, worse if it's their first one, and what boundaries they should put, they don't know how to communicate.

I don't even remember the reason why Makoto liked Kotonoha aside from the fact that.. they used the same train everyday.

While Kotonoha liked Makoto because it was probably the first boy who showed some interest in her and was good enough to hide his true intentions, having not much experience and no other friends to refer to other than Sekai (who was biased) she clinged to their relationship the most she could. (And this is speaking about the anime)

In some of the endings of the visual novel, Kotonoha goes as far as to:

Delude herself into thinking Makoto is still her boyfriend after they break up in some routes.

Coerce Makoto into sleeping with her, then makes him promise that if she's able to make Sekai leave him, he'll get back with her.

Trick Sekai into breaking up with Makoto showing her a picture of herself and Makoto that she took without him knowing, telling Sekai that he's just using her.

Lie(? To Makoto, telling him that the father of the baby Sekai's carrying is not him, making him abandon her while pregnant, that can lead to Sekai killing Makoto, or killing Kotonoha.

And even commit in order to keep Makoto to herself, saying that she'll never let him and Sekai be together, jumping from the building in front of them, making them unable to stay together without remembering her face before she died.

Along with the many endings where she kills. She kills Sekai once the other is in a official relationship with Makoto.

The extra of an ending where wether intentional or not she causes Sekai's death by pushing her down to the train racks after Sekai pushed her first.

Killing Makoto unintentionally when she pushed Sekai to the train racks and the other helped Sekai out, but was unable to get himself out in time.

As far as I know, in the whole Saga she has a kill count of 5 (+2 non-confirmed deaths), plus her own.

Kotonoha always obsesses over Makoto, refusing to believe their relationship is over in repeated occasions, and often trying to get him to take her back, by any means, no matter what he does, as it's shown in the anime.

Now, I focused too much in Kotonoha, but she's mostly seen as a victim of the circumstances, unlike Sekai, who.. pretty much caused all the shit she got.

Sekai paired Makoto with Kotonoha, then prompted him cheat, not only with her but with many other girls, although unintentionally as she didn't thought Makoto would sleep with anyone else but her while he was in a relationship with Kotonoha.

And while Sekai has a kill count of 4 (one from the manga), it's done more because of 'desperate circumstances require desperate measures'.

She pushed Kotonoha in the train racks after Makoto broke up with her because of Kotonoha, leaving Sekai pregnant and blaming the Kotonoha for how everything turned out.

Kills Makoto after both her and Kotonoha get pregnant by Makoto, but in this ending Makoto is dating Kotonoha, and Sekai is angry of their happiness, although she quickly regrets it.

It's not shown directly, but in one ending it implies that she (with Makoto's help) killed Kotonoha so the two of them could be together.

Satou Matsuzaka

Now, with Satou were clear with what's her backstory, and what she does, and how she views her actions, as she's one of the protagonist of her anime and manga.

Satou's parent are absent in her life, it's not said why but we can assume that they either died or abandoned her, since Satou lives with her aunt.

Aunt, who.. doesn't show Satou the healthiest depiction of love.. basically teaching her that,

Love = Sex.

That's why Satou is said to be an easy girl among her classmates, that she changes boyfriend's every week after sleeping with them even if she doesn't feel anything for them, slightly hoping that one of them will make her feel different.

That is, until she meets Shio. An abandoned little girl who's still too young to understand all that's wrong with the world, still pure.

Satou immediately feels the need to protect her, resorting to killing the guy the moment she saw him hurting Shio, just so Satou would remain empty (the guy who's the actual owner of the department Satou lives in, I think? and the one who painted her portrait), and I think it's the first time she ever kills someone, so it could be seen as a desperate measure too.

Satou knew about the concept of friends, but she didn't seemed to know until the end of her life that you could love someone platonically, when her and Shio jump from their burning building, and Satou shields Shio from the fall, making the little girl live while Satou died, realizing she loved Shio as if she was her mother.

Now, there's a whole dilemma about her relationship with Shio but I want to prioritize how Satou views love.

“You taught that kid the wrong idea about love. That’s why you have a responsibility to pay me back. A responsibility to help me. Take responsibility for doing this to me.” (Satou to her Aunt.)

“I didn’t know…what warmth felt like. What kindness was. And more than anything else… I couldn’t understand what love was. It’s all thanks to Shio-chan. It’s because Shio-chan took my hand that one time. Shio-chan led me. I learned what happiness meant for the first time in my life. I never understood love before. But Shio-chan is the one who taught me what love means. I see! This is an even deeper feeling for Shio-chan…. I… finally…. Shio-chan, I hope you still love me when we’re reborn. I’m sorry…and thanks.” (Satou's thoughts just before her death.)

Satou sees/describes her feelings with how, well, how she feels, she feels at peace and warm with Shio, a sweet feeling.

When she's unable to spend time with Shio due the extra hours of her work, or when she forces herself to kiss a coworker so the other wouldn't snoop into her life and discover Shio, she describes it as bitter.

Satou kills around 4 times.

The painter guy.

The two guys who had hit(? Shio in the park.

Her best friend, Shouko Hida. After she takes a picture of Satou and Shio and sends it to Shio's brother, who's been looking for her.

Satou manipulates her way out more often than resorting to killing, keeping up more frequently the innocent persona since she has to hide Shio while Satou continues her normal life as a school girl.

When her boss was giving her more hours out of jealousy and refused to pay her (when Satou was trying to save money so she and Shio could live away.) She threatened her to get her pay, not caring about the boy her boss had kidnapped.

Made her coworker help her (I don't remember in what, but I think it was in escaping?) after taking advantage of her crush on Satou.

Asked her Aunt to help her burn the building so there was no evidence left, telling her she was responsible with how Satou turned out.

Blackmailed her disgusting teacher so he'd burn(? some evidence for her.

Blackmailed the kidnapped (and traumatized) guy so he'd help her hide Shio from her brother.

Almost killed Shio's brother when she heard him say the vows(? her and Shio shared. (And if I remember correctly, she didn't do it just because she was interrupted.)

Make the trauma of the kidnapped boy worse by leaving him with her Aunt..

And at the end, permanently traumatized/influenced Shio to think like her after her death.

Reading about a platonic yandere was a nice change of breath, even if it was weird at first since I had been sell on Satou in some of the anime clips before even knowing about Shio, and having heard that the anime spoiled the ending I decided to read the manga first and.. the surprise I got seeing the little girl.. almost made me drop the manga.

Almost, as I was too curious about how the story would explain this and Satou's yandere tendencies.

It would be nice to see that kind of platonic yandere because of the.. lot, of bro/sis complex in anime..

One of the scenes that stuck the most with me was the breakdown Satou has when Shio says she hates her, when Satou has already done a lot for Shio (moments earlier she had killed her own best friend) and feels abandoned again.

I don't remember how she stabilized herself after, but it's clear that like many Yanderes, her mental stability depends on her beloved, Shio's rejection had quickly made her spiral into despair when Satou had already killed without even blinking, but it was useless if Shio wasn't with her.

Honorary mentions.

Mikan Tsumiki from Danganronpa 2, the infamous fan service character that claims love as her motive, although it was after she was brainwashed..?

Misa Amane from Death Note, aside from her dying devotion to Light, and her jealousy later with his past girlfriend, we don't really see much of Misa as a yandere..? She cut her life-span twice just for him, and literally stalked Light as a way to find and meet him.

Himiko Toga from My Hero Academia was often called a yandere because of saying she liked Deku(? But mostly because of her relationship of Uraraka. I don't know what did that hellhole of a series ended up like, but I thought it was worth mentioning, only heard about it.

Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club, although crude, her actions weren't as bad(? as the other yanderes, as Monika was fully sentient that the other girls were just code and not real, making it easier for her to worsen them just to appeal to the player, and by the end she has a change of heart, and if you take the time to make each happy, the ending of the game is different too. Along with Doki+ showing us more about how she interacted with the girls before the events of the main game take place.

Lucy from Elfen Lied.. honorary mention as I can't really see it, since she has kind of a double personality thing going on, only watched reviews of the anime.

Ren from Re:Zero, although short and sneak, there's hints of it aside from her 'main scene', and it's the only thing I know from that anime.

On characters that I barely know of, or I don't have much to say about them.

Yuka Mikase from 11eyes.

Toma from Amnesia.

Mana Ouma from Guilty Crown.

Kaede Fuyou from Shuffle!

All the guys from Blood Soup.

Homura Akemi from Puella Magi Madoka Magica, there's lot of analysis of her character on YouTube, and she's personally one of my favorites.

Ren Yamai from Komi Can't Communicate.

dishonorable mention

Ayano Aishi.