#Cereals and Pulses

[smrexim-1]

Produce High-Quality Agriculture Crops, Organic and Handicraft Products Manufacturer and Exporter in Telangana, India

[thesoulspulse]

Danny Phantom Randomness (Principal Masters)

Not sure if this idea has been used in the phandom before, probably not since it’s a pretty common for the principal of a school in a cartoon to be the antagonist in some way, but I thought I’d share it anyways. So here’s what I’m thinking. Personally I think it would have made a lot more sense for Vlad to switch tactics and double down on trying to win Danny over instead of going full cookie-cutter-bad-guy-that-wants-to-rule-the-world after cloning him failed which would make him realize that his little badger really is one of a kind and what he has can’t be replicated.

Up until this point Vlad’s been making Danny’s life more difficult instead of easier which was his whole sales pitch when they first met...

Vlad: Daniel, stop. Think about the things I could show you, the doors I could open for you. You, Danny Phantom, and I, Vlad Plasmius. Together, we could rule.

Then there’s these comments Vlad made to Danny in Reign Storm...

Vlad: Sneak attack, very good, Daniel.You're getting more like me with every battle.

Danny: I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU!

Vlad: Oh, you're not? Using your powers to get back at people you don't like? Throwing the first punch? You're more like me than you know.

I’m so disappointed this didn’t develop into something more interesting where Danny starts to genuinely worry he’s becoming too much like Vlad which would have made the events of The Ultimate Enemy twice as cool because it’d be like a glimpse of that reality where he’d actually become worse than Vlad. But, back to the topic at hand! I’ve mentioned this in a few of my fanfics but I think the whole cloning thing was more of a desperate attempt to get Danny on his side since Vlad never really made any serious attempts to tempt him to join willingly and just spent the whole time bashing Jack and telling Danny he’d be a better father.

With that in mind, rather than being a petty rich bully after Danny gets Vlad’s mansion destroyed in Season 3 what if Vlad decided to put his foot down to “re-educate” him so to speak? What I mean by that is instead of running for Mayor of Amity Park, why didn’t Vlad try to replace the principal of Casper High? For one thing it would have ACTUALLY made sense because the position doesn’t require living somewhere for more than 6 months and its purely based on their education and teaching experience. And I think overshadowing the right people on a smaller scale would make it more believable than the whole Mayor thing.

Vlad could of course still be a jerk about a lot of things to get back at Danny like force the whole dress code thing, however, it would have been an interesting twist if when Danny comes to Vlad to apologize and ask for a truce he graciously accepts which totally throws Danny for a loop. Why? Because that was the plan all along! Vlad wanted Danny to learn there are consequences to his actions, realized that fighting him is counterproductive, and on top of that, to actually show how much easier he could make Danny’s life by letting him become a part of it.

Honestly, I absolutely love the idea of him unexpectedly becoming the cranky overprotective type kind of like what you see in this amazing comic strip by @lilianade-comics​: https://www.tumblr.com/lilianade-comics/703807353584320512/aw-man-dont-you-hate-it-when-your-arch-enemy?source=share

Think about it. If Vlad started to make Jack look bad without actively insulting him to make Danny finally get fed up with being hunted by his parents to the point where he’d reluctantly go there just to catch his breath once the two of them agree to a cease fire. Trouble with the high school bullies? In comes Uncle Vlad who happens to be the richest man in the world and a close personal friend of the Fenton family so Danny’s off limits. Ghost attack? Vlad helps cover up Danny disappearing to fight them or even scares them off if he has an important test that day. The list goes on on what Vlad could do to either make Danny’s life a living hell in a more personalized way by invading his school life or a lot better depending on their interactions at Casper High.

Long story short its basically using the idea that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar and all that so seeing Vlad gradually start doing nice things for Danny from time to time might help change his tune. Because deep down Danny DOES want to learn more about being half-ghost, but he refuses to accept Vlad’s offer to join him because he hasn’t really done anything to make it appealing. Vlad’s always insulting Danny and his father so if you ask me, giving him the praise he doesn’t get at home or at school could change so much between them...

Vlad’s just gotta be smarter about it.

Obviously Danny would be suspicious if Vlad started acting too nice to him right away so the changes would be gradual. And whenever he goes to Vlad for help or at the very least asks if he’ll cut him some slack Vlad will reward him for coming to him first. Especially because unlike his parents, Vlad knows exactly how much he’s dealing with and I’d love it if what started off as a plan to manipulate Danny transformed into an actual student and mentor relationship leading into a redemption arc instead of whatever Season 3 was.

And there you have it. Principal Masters AU anyone?

[plglobal]

PL Global is on a mission to bring the heart-healthy power of pulses to the world. As a key player in the global pulse supply chain, they ensure the accessibility and distribution of these nutrient-rich foods. Packed with protein and fiber, pulses promote heart health by lowering cholesterol and managing weight. PL Global empowers people worldwide to embrace a heart-conscious diet through the power of pulses.

[bharatvarsh22]

GROWING GREEN: THE BENEFITS AND TECHNIQUES OF ORGANIC FARMING IN 2023

As the world progresses, there is an increasing demand for healthier and more sustainable methods of agriculture. This has led to a rise in organic farming practices – and for good reason. Organic farming is not only better for the environment but also for our health.

Organic farming is a method of agriculture that relies on techniques such as crop rotation, green manure, and compost to maintain soil health and fertility. It also avoids the use of synthetic pesticides and fertilizers.

In this article, we will discuss the benefits of organic farming and provide some tips on how to get started.

What is organic farming?

Organic farming is an agricultural method that mimics natural ecosystems and cycles. It relies on sustainable and holistic practices to promote soil health and use natural resources more efficiently.

Organic farming takes the idea of crop rotation from traditional farming but takes it a step further. Organic farmers rotate various crops to reduce pests, manage fertility, and promote soil health. Rotating crops prevents the build-up of pests and diseases, which can shackle traditional farming.

Organic farmers also employ beneficial insects and natural pest control methods. These can include things like companion planting, inviting predators, or using DIY or commercially made traps. Organic farmers also use traps and exclusion methods to control pests without the use of synthetic pesticides.

Organic farming avoids the use of synthetic fertilizers and synthetic pesticides, opting instead for natural options. Organic farmers use things like animal manure, green manure, and compost to add fertility to the soil. Composting also returns valuable organic matter and nutrition into the soil.

The benefits of organic farming

Organic farming has numerous benefits. It helps preserve soil health, as well as biodiversity. Organic farmers rely on healthy soil, as well as beneficial insects, predators, and other populations to maintain natural ecosystems and keep them balanced.

Organic farming can also help with climate change, as it avoids synthetic chemicals, which can be released into the atmosphere. By avoiding synthetic fertilizers and pesticides, organic farming decreases the overall carbon footprint of the production process.

Organic farming is often more labour-intensive than traditional farming, as it does not rely on synthetic chemicals for pest and fertility management. This leads to more jobs for farmers and farm workers, resulting in a healthier agricultural economy.

It also produces higher-quality food. Many studies have found organic food to be more nutritious than conventionally grown food, with higher concentrations of beneficial compounds like antioxidants and vitamins. Additionally, organic meat and dairy products often contain fewer hormones and antibiotics than conventionally produced meat and dairy products.

This method of farming is also better for the environment, as it avoids synthetic chemicals that can run off into streams, rivers, and other water sources. By maintaining existing biodiversity and increasing wildlife habitat, organic farms create sustainable buffer zones for wildlife and aquatic species.

The Techniques of Organic Farming

Organic farming involves a number of techniques that allow farmers to produce crops without relying on synthetic fertilizers and pesticides. Here are some of the most popular organic farming techniques:

Crop Rotation – Crop rotation is the practice of changing the crops grown in a particular field each year in order to increase sustainability. By alternating crops, farmers can promote diverse habitats for beneficial organisms and replenish the soil from year to year.

Cover Cropping – Cover cropping is the use of different crops to cover the land between the regular crops. These cover crops help protect and replenish the soil, improve soil health, and control weed growth. They can also be used as food for grazing animals or as animal feed.

Composting – Composting is the process of turning organic material, such as plant matter and food waste, into a rich, dark powdery substance that can be used to improve soil fertility. By adding compost to the soil, farmers can help increase organic matter, improve water and nutrient retention, and reduce the need for synthetic fertilizers.

An Integrated Pest Management System – This system is used to prevent and control pests without relying on chemical pesticides. These methods can include planting pest-resistant crops, using physical barriers, encouraging natural predators, and using natural pest repellents.

Organic farming is becoming increasingly popular as the world becomes more aware of its environmental and health impacts.

Continue Reading: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/growing-green-the-benefits-and-techniques-of-organic-farming-in-2023/

[leelasaiexim]

Organic Pulses, Natural Cereals, Dry Spices Powder, Organic Basmati and Non Basmati Rice exporter and trader in Bangalore, India

[punitproteins]

Punit Proteins is the most trusted Wada kolam rice supplier in Vadodara, Gujarat. Punit Proteins Pvt. Ltd. is a globally recognised pioneer in the provision of high-quality food products. In 1973, our innovative founder began the brand's journey with the goal of providing high-quality pulses and grains.

If you are looking to place an order for Lachkari kolam rice, Punit Proteins is the right place for you.

[tenth-sentence]

Cereals and pulses together thus provide many of the ingredients of a balanced diet.

"Guns, Germs and Steel: A Short History of Everybody for the Last 13,000 Years" - Jared Diamond

[whats-in-a-sentence]

As Table 7.1 (next page) summarizes, the domestication of local cereal/pulse combinations launched food production in many areas. (...) Table 7.1 also shows that the Fertile Crescent's early domestication of flax for fiber was paralleled elsewhere.

The table gives major crops, of five crop classes, from early agricultural sites in various parts of the world. Square brackets enclose names of crops first domesticated elsewhere; names not enclosed in brackets refer to local domesticates. Omitted are crops that arrived or became important only later, such as bananas in Africa, corn and beans in the western United States, and sweet potato in New Guinea. Cottons are four species of the genus Gossypium, each species being native to a particular part of the world; squashes are five species of the genus Cucurbita. Note that cereals, pulses, and fiber crops launched agriculture in most areas, but that root and tuber crops and melons were of early importance in only some areas.

"Guns, Germs and Steel: A Short History of Everybody for the Last 13,000 Years" - Jared Diamond

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨

　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: In a seemingly perfect relationship, Y/N and Matt face a silent storm when Y/N, after appearing in a video on Matt's personal channel, is the target of cruel comments that leave her feeling inadequate. Unable to share her insecurities, Y/N distance herself from Matt, wallowing in self-criticism and painful comparisons, until he snaps.

WARNING: Crying, insecurities, comparison, yelling, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt the weight of the world on her shoulders as she tried to navigate the dark mazes of her mind. Since she appeared in the last video on Matt's personal channel, everything had changed. The acidic words of the "fans' comments burned in her memory, leaving deep marks.

It was a vlog-type video, where the couple was spending the day walking through parks, going to museums and strolling through the mall, but comments like "She's not good enough for him", "Matt deserves someone better" and "The other YouTubers' girlfriends are better than this" filled the comments box and echoed in her mind constantly.

What was once a stable and loving relationship now turned into a minefield of insecurities.

Y/N began to see herself through the distorted lens of the comments. She endlessly compared herself to other women on social media – the influencers with flawless skin, sculpted bodies, and perfect smiles. Each comparison only served to erode her self-esteem even more. She wondered what Matt saw in her and if, perhaps, those people were right.

This whirlwind of insecurities made her distance herself from Matt. She avoided dates, responded to his texts in a short and evasive way, and when they were together, her mind was always distant, immersed in thoughts of inadequacy. Matt, in turn, noticed the change but didn't understand the depth of what was happening.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The morning after the video came out, Y/N and Matt sat down at the kitchen table for breakfast. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, along with the random sounds of Nick and Chris echoing through the house, but the silence between the couple was deafening. Matt was engrossed in his phone, responding to emails and interacting with his followers.

Y/N, on the other hand, could barely look at him. The words of the comments were eating her up inside.

"Good morning, baby." Matt murmured when noticing her presence long minutes after she had entered the room without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Good morning." Y/N responded, trying to hide the anguish in her voice, her teeth gripping her bottom lip in a death grip, restraining herself from saying anything else.

She stirred the stainless steel spoon inside the white bowl full of cereal, without appetite. Her mind returned to the nasty comments, each word a knife in her heart. She felt inadequate and inferior.

Her eyes occasionally glanced at Matt, who looked so happy and self-assured, and wondered how he could love her when so many people thought she wasn't good enough. When he had thousands of better options than her.

"Do you wanna go to the mall today?" Matt asked, looking up from his phone in confusion seconds after, noticing the unusual silence. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am." Y/N lied quickly, nodding her head and forcing a smile. "I just didn't sleep well. Maybe I should stay home today." She shrugged, maintaining eye contact.

Matt accepted the answer without question, returning his attention to the phone a few seconds later. For Y/N, it was a momentary relief, but the pain was still latent, pulsing.

How had he not noticed the sea of ​​pain in her eyes?

Maybe he didn't care anymore.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A few weeks later, Matt decided to take Y/N out to dinner at a restaurant they both loved. He wanted to cheer her up, realizing that she had been distant the last few days. However, Y/N could not escape the mental prison she had constructed.

As they sat, Matt excitedly talked about his new ideas for the Sturniolo Triplets channel and how excited he was to be able to vlog and stream again. Y/N tried to pay attention, nodding her head and keeping her eyes fixed on the boy's face, but her mind wandered to the words that seemed etched into the walls of her mind.

Her orbs momentarily strayed to the tables around hers, noticing other couples made up of beautiful women.

They looked beautiful, confident, and charismatic.

And she felt small and insignificant.

"Did you hear what I said?" Matt asked suddenly with a slight tone of frustration, his brow furrowed and his posture rigid.

"Sorry, I was distracted." Y/N quickly responded, feeling embarrassed, her hands clasped together above her thighs, squeezing her fingers in an act of nervousness.

"You've been so distant lately. What's going on?"

Y/N wanted to spill it all, tell him about the comments, about how inadequate she felt, but the words wouldn't come out. She was afraid Matt would confirm her insecurities.

"Nothing, I'm just tired. Work has been taking a toll on me." The girl lied, avoiding the blue eyes that stared deeply at her.

Matt sighed, clearly worried and annoyed, but accepted the apology.

Dinner continued, but the atmosphere was tense and heavy. For Y/N, every moment was a fight against tears and despair.

He would get tired of her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A small launch event for one of the Space Camp lines. It was a momentous occasion, and the triplets were excited to take a new, longer step in their Internet career.

Y/N wore her best dress with the best heels and the best makeup, trying to look confident, but inside, she was in pieces.

During the event, Matt was surrounded by people, laughing and talking, interacting with his closest friends, and explaining his role within his brother's brand.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt like a ghost, invisible. Every time someone looked at her, she felt like they were judging her, comparing herself o other women present.

At some point, while Matt was busy chatting with some important guests, Y/N heard two women commenting nearby.

"She's Matt's girlfriend? Wow, she doesn't seem like anything special."

"He could get someone so much better."

The words were like stabs. Y/N felt the ground disappear beneath her feet, and all the air escaped her lungs, her heart freezing.

She needed to get out of there.

The girl quickly walked towards the nearest bathroom and locked herself in a stall, tears streaming down her face, completely ruining the makeup she spent hours doing.

She felt like an impostor, a farce.

When she returned to the event about twenty minutes later, Matt noticed her red eyes and lack of makeup almost instantly, excusing himself from those he was talking to and walking towards her with quick steps.

"Babe, hey, what happened?" Matt asked in a low tone as he approached, worried.

"Nothing, just something got in my eye, I had to take off some makeup to get it out." She lied once again. She was getting good at it. Too good.

Matt looked suspicious but didn't insist, nodding slowly.

Upon arriving home that night, Y/N lay down on the bed next to Matt, the duvet covering half of her body. Matt quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the event, seeming to not have the strength to try to talk to his girlfriend or the will.

Y/N lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The culmination of everything happened when Matt decided to share with Y/N ​​a new idea for the channel, something he was really excited about. He had spent weeks planning the boys trip with his brothers and Nate, along with how they would record everything, turning the precious moments into a long vlog, so sharing the finished idea with his girlfriend was a crucial moment for him.

Y/N sat next to him on the large sofa in the living room, curling up on the gray upholstery and trying to focus on the excited words coming out of Matt's mouth, not even giving herself the luxury of feeling surprised at how quickly he spoke - different from his usual self, her mind being far away.

"So what do you think?" Matt asked after finishing his line of reasoning, his eyes fixed on Y/N's face expectantly, waiting for a reaction.

"Ah yes, that sounds good." The girl nodded briefly, smiling slightly, her eyes with a distracted gaze.

Matt frowned, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"You didn't even hear what I said, did you?"

"Sorry, I'm just... distracted." She cleared her throat, looking down at her crossed legs.

"I can't handle it anymore." Matt muttered in a low tone, taking a deep breath as his expression closed completely, one of fury taking the place of confusion, standing up abruptly and starting to walk between the television and the sofa in an attempt to calm himself down. "You've been acting so strange, so distant. I feel like I'm talking to a wall all the time. What's happening to you? Where's the bubbly Y/N I used to know?"

Y/N remained silent, tears already beginning to well up in her eyes as she looked at him through her wet lashes, silently begging him to stop, but Matt continued, his voice rising with each word.

"I'm tired, Y/N. Tired of being ignored, tired of trying to figure out what the hell you want. I feel like I'm carrying this relationship alone! You act like you don't care. Do you even care anymore? Because, honestly, it doesn't seem like it, and with each passing day, I become more discouraged with you."

He stopped his steps, breathing heavily, his eyes now fixed on Y/N, waiting for a response. When she finally looked up, her vision was blurred by the tears that were now running freely down her face.

"Matt, I... I'm so sorry." She began, her voice shaky and weak and her throat burning from the force she was trying to stop the sobs. "I didn't mean to make you feel this way. I'm just going through a hard time now-"

"Hard time? This has been going on for weeks! I don't know what else to do to reach you." The brunette suddenly interrupted her, his frustration boiling over. "You refuse to tell me what's going on, and I'm tired of being ignored."

"You don't understand..." Y/N felt a wave of despair take over her heart, shaking her head repeatedly.

"Then make me understand! I can't go on like this, Y/N." The boy ordered with tears in his eyes, his right hand flying to his own hair, ruffling it roughly in an act of nervousness. "Maybe we're not ideal together. Maybe you're not the right person for me!" The words escaped as quickly as his mind could process.

Y/N felt her heart stop for a few seconds, her skin freezing as her throat closed before a loud, ugly sob shot through her like lightning, escaping her lips intensely. Every cruel comment, every insecurity, everything accumulated in her mind at that moment, confirming her worst fears.

"They were right," she thought, "I'm not the one for him."

All she wanted to do most at that moment was run out of that house and away from him, but with the storm outside, her not knowing how to drive and the late hour prevented her from making any hasty decisions, after all, she had nowhere to go. That was her home, or it was meant to be.

Meanwhile, Matt closed his mouth almost instantly, his eyes widening as his mind seemed to process the words he had spilled, feeling the impact of them, his heart aching as if a hand was crushing it hard as he watched the girl he loved breaking down in front of him.

"I didn't mean that, baby. I-I'm so sorry. Oh my-" His words were interrupted by his own sob before his now weak legs began tentative steps towards Y/N, afraid of her reaction.

But Y/N couldn't do anything but cry, her body shaking violently with the strong sobs that escaped her mouth, clawing at the walls of her throat, her face already swollen and wet with the intense tears that fell without stopping.

"N-no, you're right. I'm a fraud. I'll never be good enough for you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for m-making you loose time with me, I'm so sorry! M- Matty, I-I'm sorry-" That was all her mind could process: apologies. Her hands tightened into fists above her thighs, her long nails digging into her palms, drawing blood and hurting the sensitive skin.

"Baby, please, breathe, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep crying like that. Breath, hm? Please." Matt sat down next to her, his left hand pressing against his own eyes roughly, trying to shake away the tears that flooded his blue orbs, while his right hand flew to Y/N's ones, trying to slowly undo the knots of fingers she had created.

"The comments on your channel... about me. Saying that I'm not good enough for you, that you deserve someone better." Y/N began to say again between sobs, pulling in choppy air between one word and another. "I can't stop thinking about it, comparing myself to other women, and the worst of it all? They are all right! I couldn't bear the thought of being close to you and making you look ugly with me, o-or dislocated... so I distanced myself." Y/N's hands that were surrounded by his right one clenched tighter against each other, her skin taking on a reddish tone due to the strength she exerted in her grip, feeling her wrist and arms shaking with nervousness and anxiety.

"I don't-" Matt shook his head, sniffling and blinking repeatedly in an attempt to stop the tears. "I had no idea. I'm sorry for not having noticed, for not having noticed the signs in your way of acting and trying to understand, I'm sorry for acting on impulse and blaming you, love. I'm sorry for having said those horrible things, I'm so sorry, lovey. Why didn't you tell me?" His blue eyes, which looked at her with attention and closeness, carried immense pain for seeing her in such a state and knowing that it was his own fault.

"I just… I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid that you would agree with them, that you would realize that I really wasn't the right woman for you, and that you would leave me." Y/N choked back a sob, sniffling repeatedly, trying her best to stop her crying, looking up at him as she felt his hand squeeze hers tightly, trying to stop her from keep hurting herself.

Matt's expression softened as his eyes met hers, a mixture of understanding and pain written across his face before he closed them for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Y/N, you're not weak for feeling all this. Everyone has insecurities, but hiding them from me... you're pushing me away, which caused me to think other things were going on, on my own fault. It was a miscommunication on both sides, but I want to help you, and I can't if you don't trust me, babe."

"I'm so sorry, Matt. I'm so sorry for hurting you, for letting my insecurities get to us. I just... I feel so lost." The girl murmured, her voice lowering in volume considerably, her shoulders slumping even more. "Maybe I'm really not the one for you, you know? Maybe they're all right, and you just have to see it, too."

Matt's heart clenched at her words, and he gently lifted her chin so their eyes could meet again, his orbes traveling repeatedly around her face.

"No, Y/N, don't say that." He whispered fiercely. "You are the one for me. You're everything to me. These comments, they don't know us. They don't know how much you mean to me, how much you complete me."

"But how can you be sure? How can you be sure that I'm not dragging you down?" Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her breath still hitching from the sobs and her bottom lip trembling.

Matt sighed deeply, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

"Because I know what we have. I know the love we share, and I see the amazing person you are, even if you don't see it yourself right now. You're not dragging me down. You're my partner, and we face everything together, good or bad. And I'm sorry for making it seem different or the opposite of what it really is by acting like that, I wish I could take it all back." He shook his head, feeling his hear burning with shame.

Her gaze softened slightly, a glimmer of hope sparking within her.

"But the comments... they get to me, Matt. It's like their words are a constant echo in my mind." She sniffled, immense pain surging through her shoulders and back as the adrenaline and tension subsided.

"I get it. I really do." He nodded understandingly. "But we can't let other people dictate our happiness. We have to believe in ourselves and each other. We're stronger than this, Y/N. And I'm here for you, always." His thumb caressed her jawline, lightly wiping the wet trails where the several tears fell.

"I don't want to lose you, Matt. I want to be strong for both of us." A small, tentative smile formed on her lips, the first real smile he'd seen in weeks.

"You don't have to be strong alone." He reminded her, his hand finding hers again, holding it firmly. "We'll be strong together. But you need to talk to me. Let me in, okay?"

"Okay. I'll try. I promise." She nodded, her grip on his hand tightening.

"That's all I ask. Just promise me you'll never feel like you're alone in this. We're a team, sweetheart. And I love you so much." Matt leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I love you too, Matt." She whispered, a new determination settling in her heart. "And I'll do better. I'll let you in."

"That's all I need. We’ll get through this together." He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile before using his hand holding hers to slowly pull her closer, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her upper body to rest against his own, laying her head against his hoodie-covered chest before resting his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply, the fresh smell of shampoo filling his nostrils, making him realize how much he missed it.

They stayed there, holding each other, feeling the weight of emotions that had been suppressed for so long. Y/N knew that the road to regaining trust and security in the relationship would be long and difficult for her, but in that moment, wrapped in Matt's arms, she felt a spark of hope.

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[wanologic]

Danny wakes up. It feels different now that he’s older. Now that he’s both more and less than he was. He starts mornings out floaty, his edges indistinct, bleeding into his surroundings. He’s hyper-aware of the tentative strings connecting him to life, the blood pumping sluggishly through his veins, the breath expanding the lungs within his chest. 

He yawns. A stretch.

His brain feels like an old computer booting up, each process coming online in a slow, methodical order. Neurons firing, electric pulses traveling up and down the webbed network of sinew tangled through his skeleton. He feels the pressure of atmosphere on his skin, the floor under his feet.

It’s weird. Not uncomfortable, just strange. It’s been years, but it’s never been easy to come to terms with the new awareness of his physicality, the control he could exert over its expression and shape. What once was instinctual, settled, now flows through his fingers like water, rising and falling with the rhythm of his chest. He would say that he’s just tired, that he’s never been a morning person, but the simmer of dawn and the infinite thrumming energy beneath his skin beg to differ.

He makes his way to the bathroom. He might have walked, but probably not, he can’t be sure. It doesn’t matter. There are only friends here. He’s safe. Home.

The routine of the morning is grounding. Always the same. Jazz says it should help. That it can all become instinctual again, through enough repetition. Danny isn’t so sure.

He takes his time putting together his outfit, picking accessories and being mindful of the way it all fits against him. His body might be a projection, something just to the left of real, but clothes are normal, socks, rings, a watch. He can feel normal like this. 

Another stretch. 

He wants to scream.

He makes his way down to the shared living space. He’s grateful that he’s not crammed into a tiny apartment with strangers, that he’s allowed both the time and space to be what he is. Sam’s parents may not be the most accommodating, but this is worth every glare and snide, underhanded comment he’s had to put up with for the better part of the past decade.

He knows what comes next, but his stomach rolls in his gut. He should have something solid, go through the remaining motions of self-care, even if it’s a bowl of cereal and a piece of fruit. 

He grimaces and grabs a less-than-pleasant nutritional shake from the fridge. They’re supposed to be back up, an addition-to rather than in-replacement-of, but it’s early and he can’t bring himself to care. He finds himself on the roof, with the chilled bite of the morning and the chalky pseudo-chocolate flavor of his breakfast on his tongue.

He longs to shed this husk, to leave the weight of his flesh behind and see what the sunrise looks like from ten thousand feet. But it’s a Tuesday and he has an 8am. He wants equally to be the college student he is, to sit with his peers and bring numbers to their algorithmic conclusions—to describe the world around him in a way that makes sense, in a way that’s objectively true. One day he might even be able to describe what happened to him in a neat little equation. 

He breathes in and out, feeling heavy in his body. This is nice too, he supposes. He shuts his eyes and feels the brunt of the morning sun peek over the neighboring apartment complex. When he hears his friends shuffling about in their own morning fugue states, he sinks back inside. 

Tucker just about jumps out of his skin when he turns around, eyes half closed, to see Danny dressed and ready, silent, and much too close behind him.

Laughter peels through the house as Danny is chased through the halls and somehow he feels human.

[thesoulspulse]

At last, it's finished! And hopefully I managed to portray the soaked by rain look well enough. There's a background behind them too but I kept it super dark to give off storm cloud vibes.

As for what's happening here it could be anything from Danny going for a flight and getting caught in the storm or he just finished up a fight and was too tired to move even when it started pouring rain outside. Either way Vlad notices him somehow and decides to help out before his little badger catches a cold because hybrid or not, they're not immune to it.

[plglobal]

The Power of Pulses: PL Global's Role in Promoting Heart-Healthy Diets Worldwide

For ages, pulses, a type of legume that includes lentils, beans, peas, and chickpeas, have been a staple in many communities around the world. However, there has been a recent spike in interest in these nutritional powerhouses, which is understandable. Pulses are loaded with heart-healthy properties, making them an important factor in boosting global health.

This is when groups like PL Global step in. As a market leader in the global distribution market, they are critical to establishing a consistent and accessible global pulse supply chain. PL Global works with farmers, processors, and distributors all across the world to make these heart-healthy products available to people everywhere.

But why are pulses so helpful for your heart? Let’s look at the benefits of eating pulses:

1. Pulses are high in fiber, which lowers LDL (“bad”) cholesterol and keeps you satisfied for longer, promoting good weight management – both of which are important for heart health.

2. These are an excellent source of plant-based protein, which is necessary for muscle mass development and maintenance. This protein can also help you feel content and minimize cravings, making it a good choice for a heart-healthy diet.

Read more. https://plglobal.com/the-power-of-pulses/

[bharatvarsh22]

As the world progresses, there is an increasing demand for healthier and more sustainable methods of agriculture. This has led to a rise in organic farming practices – and for good reason. Organic farming is not only better for the environment but also for our health.

Do Visit: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/growing-green-the-benefits-and-techniques-of-organic-farming-in-2023/

[theemporium]

thank you to the anon who sent the request in!🫶🏽sorry that tumblr is glitching and won't let me answer the actual ask :(

series masterlist

.

“Are you even qualified for this?” 

Luke turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I can make a couple of meals to get by,” he said. “You, somehow, burn pasta. I think it’s fair to say I am qualified enough to teach you how to make a meal or two.” 

“Ugh,” you groaned as you walked across the kitchen, slumping against him with your cheek pressed against his back. “Why can’t you just make me food and then we can go watch some Vampire Diaries?” 

“Because you just told me you have been surviving off cereal and that isn’t okay,” Luke retorted, reaching his arm back to pat your ass until you moved to stand next to him. “It’s just pasta. Not rocket science.” 

“Half your meals are prepared anyways,” you grumbled. 

“And yet I can still make pasta.” 

Your eyes narrowed slightly before you let out a long sigh. “Fine, go on then. Teach me what you know.” 

So, he did. He just didn’t realise how fucking stressful it would be.

“I—what are you doing?” 

You paused, looking at Luke with a shrug. “Cutting an onion.”

“You’re gonna cut your fingers off if you cut it like that,” Luke chastised with a frown, reaching around to shift your hands so your fingers weren’t so near the knife blade. 

“We can’t have that,” you hummed, amusement lacing your words. “You love my fingers wrapped around your—”

“Cherry,” Luke groaned, feeling his cheeks burning at your insinuation. Not that you were wrong. 

“Calm down, Luke, it’s just an onion. It’s gonna get chopped one way or another,” you assured him. 

“I’d rather your fingers weren’t included in that,” he murmured with a huff.

Five minutes. 

It took all of five minutes before chaos took over the kitchen and Luke felt his nerves hit a level that even hockey games didn’t compete with. The part of his brain that was always switched on during games felt like it was pulsing in his head, making sure he didn’t miss a single thing in the kitchen. 

“Okay, fine, you win,” Luke eventually gave in as his shoulders slumped in defeat. “You just…sit there and look pretty. I’ll finish cooking.” 

Your smile widened. “Aw, my own personal chef.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You did this all on purpose, didn’t you?” 

“It’s fun seeing how much patience you have,” you answered with a shit-eating grin on your face. “I’m surprised you made it past the onion, to be honest.” 

“You’re gonna make me go grey before I’m twenty-one,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Ooh, I do like a silver fox.” 

“Cherry.” 

“Kidding. I’ll go turn the Vampire Diaries on.”

.

[kaznejis]

Tarnished, but so grand- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Part 1 / Masterlist / AO3

You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-”  “Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted. 

Word count: 5.7k

“I couldn’t believe it, Y/N, he kissed me! Scott kissed me!” 

You could only hum in response, staring into the dregs of your cereal bowl; the tepid milk and soggy remains of half-eaten cereal staring back at you. 

“-And it was so romantic, he pulled me away from the bonfire and then he said-” Jean spoke animatedly in the seat across from you, waving her arms and practically squealing with excitement as she recounted her own turn of events from the night before; the hangover gripping at the edges of your conscience and the guilt, oh the guilt, alongside the dread and horror and disgust rendering you useless; allowing you to only manage a small range of primal, ape-like grunts in response. 

Upon stumbling, dragging yourself up to your room the previous night- you had been able to do nothing but collapse into bed, tranquillity washing over the swell of your lips, the bruises upon your back and the tears that wet your cheeks. Waking up the following morning, however, had been a different story. First, you had combatted the grewling ache of your hangover; your head pounding and vision wiry as you squinted at the morning sun that blasted through the open window. It had taken you an embarrassing amount of time to reach your hand forward, intertwine the vines upon your windowsill with the silk of your curtains, and to pull. Once the issue of the sun was eradicated, then the realisation set in; the ball of dread that instantly expanded within your stomach and chest and heart- the shortness of breath that instantly set in, the memories of the previous night flooding back. At first, you chalked it up to a wayward dream, dreams about Erik were nothing new- they had practically facilitated themselves as an integral part of day-to-day life. But, as you woke, as you remembered, the indents upon your back became all too real- the angry, red marks from the press of the tree upon your back as you had- 

No, you had whispered aloud; clawing at the grainy sheets upon you and dragging a trembling hand down your face. No fucking way.  

Despite your resistance, despite your objections- it had happened. Nothing would erase that. The professor that you had grown to respect, to admire- had pressed you against a tree and practically demolished you; intertwined your tongue with his before leaving you cold, alone in the depths of the trees- their swaying, dark silhouettes humouring your tears. Your tears as he had left, stumbling backwards in the grass; his plaid shirt billowing around him like leaves in the wind. 

`’-Y/N? Y/N.” Jean clicked a finger in front of your face, immediately snapping you out of your reverie; leaving you blinking dazedly at your friend as she stared back at you with concern, “Are you okay? You disappeared on me there for a while.” 

You cleared your throat, cringing in disgust at the bowl of gloopy cereal you had practically been drooling into; removing the sodden spoon and pushing the plate to the side; you managed a plain smile at Jean, a shrug of the shoulders, “I’m fine, uh- just tired.” Your words were clumsy, abrasive; sentences slogging together as your tongue struggled to work through your own emotional turmoil. 

“Hungover, I bet.” Jean laughed, throwing her head back and allowing her hair to flow down her back, “You were so wasted.” 

“Says you,” You nudged her knuckle across the table, smirking as she pulled it back with feigned hurt; clutching at her hand as if it had been sliced, “As if you had gotten the courage to talk to Scott sober.” 

“Hey!” It was her turn to swat at you across the table now, “Actually- now that I come to think of it, where did you go last night? I checked your room on my way in and you weren’t there.” 

You stilled for a moment, your inhibitions freezing in horror as you stared at her; body half poised in defence as you had been avoiding her attacks, “Oh! I-” You stuttered, mind going blank for a long moment; this only spurred Jean onwards, exemplified through her sudden change in demeanour; the cock of her head, the furrow of her brow, and the way she leaned fully towards you. You could only shrug; allow an airy laugh as you looked everywhere but her eyes, “When I come to think of it, I can hardly even remember.” Jean leaned backwards then, crossing her arms; unimpressed, “Seriously, Jean! That’s how drunk I was-” 

To your relief, the bell sounded for the end of breakfast; though, it was a Saturday- with no obligations to attend to, Jean was free to follow you as she pleased. You used the dining hall's long benches to your advantage; speed walking down your respective side and disappearing into the swelling crowd of students attempting to leave. Ignoring Jean’s calls as they grew fainter. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t explain yourself to her; whilst your own guilt, regret was a prevalent, persevering factor- you felt the need to protect Erik, protect him from your wretched self. What would Jean have thought if you had told her of how your professor, the very same professor that answered her questions in class and graded her essays, had held you up against a tree and pressed his lips upon yours. What would she think of the way that you would live and die for the chance to taste him again, feel the cold palm of his hand flit higher upon your thigh, for any aggravating factors to disappear as he would finish what he had started within that iridescent alcove?

The rest of the weekend continued with that form of mindset; the lingering doubt that suffocated your mind. Any attempt, any semblance of completing your assignments remained fruitless. The curtain of nightfall began to close as the hallways bustled with student’s heading to their own rooms for the night. Abruptly you slammed your notebook shut, huffing as you moved to stand before your open window; a few stray groups were scattered upon the grass, namely Jean and Scott- cuddling beside the lake and giggling together. You moved away then, unable to watch any longer. You were happy for her, for them, of course you were; you just wished that your own Friday night endeavours had been as successful. 

Whilst they had been successful, as to say, you weren’t currently curled beneath the moon with Erik himself. 

That thought spurred you away from your room; needing a breath of fresh air, a moment to think. The route you took to the gardens led you directly through the classrooms, before you found yourself standing before Erik’s. The wooden plaque upon the door stated ‘Professor Lehnsherr’, you dragged a finger across the words; feeling the engravings upon your skin. Raising your hand to the handle, you were surprised to find it unlocked, though the room remained empty. 

His classroom was dark; the curtains drawn halfway, casting tepid shadows upon the empty desks covering his room. His own was swept clear of any belongings, any ownership; not a trinket or picture or memorabilia upon the oak surface. It has always been like that, you soothed yourself; not allowing yourself to take the empty desk as the red heron that it would be, had it been owned by anyone else. You knew that Erik lived in solitude, everyone did; when he wasn’t teaching, he was with Xavier- and if he wasn’t with Xavier, it was a token to his lonesome. You would find him, in those darker hours, seated at his desk, that empty desk, writing or planning or thinking. You had found admiration in his ability to condone silence; the comfort he drew from the blow of the wind and the subsequent flutter of his curtains. He had told you so, months before, of the comforts he found in the quiet.

“Years on the run,” He had chuckled, watching you perched upon the edge of his desk, legs swinging idly, “Makes you admire the finer things.” 

As you sat alone later that night, thinking of the unusual dark of his classroom and the absence of his presence within the house; you thought about how maybe, just maybe, you were one of those ‘finer things’. You are always there, he had gasped into the night; into the very air you too exhaled upon. My horrible, wretched thoughts. But how could they be so? Did he see the way he had mouthed upon your neck, curling his fingers into the hem of your skirt, so close to that sweet spot; as wretched? Did he see the way you had succumbed to his every command, every lesson, as wretched? A white rabbit, with the rosy pink belly, walking straight into the jaws of the wolf. The girl who can control nature, bend ivy at her will and grow petals in the palm of her hand, and the big bad Magneto. 

You didn’t see it that way. He was kind; kind even before your lips had connected, even before he had spilled every morsel of his thoughts and dreams. His own reluctance showed that; the disgust he projected towards his very own feelings, the things that sets him apart; makes him human. Abhorrently, dejectedly; his own kindness shone in his supposed rejection of you. In leaving you in that forest, available to the beasts and curling claws of nightfall; he had been saving you from himself. 

You knew in that moment, seated upon your own bed; that you needed to see him. Needed to tell him that you knew, you understood him. You felt the ivy of your touch entangle upon the intricacies of his mind like no one else ever could. So, with that, you marched from the room; mindless to the thin pyjamas that you adorned, mindless of your own lack of lightsource within the dark hallway. The bare skin of your feet peeling from the marble floors as you ran- passed the student dormitories, passed the common area, passed the classroom and finally, into the teacher’s suite. 

You slowed then, lowering your pace to a creep as you curled your fingers upon the edge of the hallway; peering into the darkness of the corridor. Despite your position as one of the older students within the school, you were still entering restricted territory. It had practically been drilled into you on day one by Mystique; never enter the teacher’s suite. To your surprise, it didn’t look much different to that of the very hallway you resided in; the same high ceilings, the same arrangement of doors; in fact, it was entirely identical. The mystification you felt towards the teachers lessened somewhat- this was where they lived, where they slept, a sacrifice made in order to be at the beck and call of the students; young mutants just like they had once been. 

The only problem; you had no idea which room belonged to Erik. 

Though, before you could dwell upon the thought; a strip of light appeared as a door opened down the hallway- you gasped, flattening your chest against the wall as you continued to peer around the corner. 

‘-Please you can’t do this.” A voice, Mystique’s, sounded; she seemed upset, angry. She stepped into the hallway in her mutant form, arms crossed and stance defensive in front of the open door. 

Another voice sounded then, stressed and upset; the sound of it visibly weakening Mystique’s resolve, as her arms unfolded, defeated. “I’m sorry Raven, but I have to.” 

“Please, Erik, why?” You realised with deafening clarity, that the other voice had belonged to Erik, “Did something happen? We can talk through this. All of us, I can call a meeting right-” 

“Raven.” Erik snapped, appearing in the hallway; his back was straight as he stared down at her; fists clenched around a cardboard box as he attempted to pass. Before he could so successfully, she snatched the box from his hold, dropping it onto the floor; its contents spilling upon the hardwood floors, “What-” Then she was gone, storming down the hallway and into a door at the end of it- the slam that followed was violent; jostling the very foundations of the walls you leant upon. You could only watch as Erik sighed, scratching at the base of his skull before kneeling; his working boots facing you as he began to clean up the mess. Once he finished, he lifted the box once again; but instead of taking it where he had initially intended, he turned and returned to his room, allowing the door to close behind him. 

In that moment, curiosity got the better of you; curiosity towards the argument that had commenced, curiosity as to why he had sounded so upset. Before you could think twice, you were in front of his door, fist raised; you allowed yourself a short moment of clarity, a split second of what the hell am I doing? Before you knocked your fist against the wood. Erik’s movements within the room paused; you breathed, suddenly all too aware of how little clothing you were wearing- the chequered pyjama shorts and matching lacy tank top. Crossing your arms, you could only stare wide eyed as the door swung open. 

“Raven, please-” Erik began, though he froze the moment his eyes landed upon you, the moment his eyes caught sight of your exposed legs and pursed lips. He swallowed, the sound loud and grating in the hallway- for a moment, he was speechless; seemingly taking you in as you stared right back at him. Though, the moment ended as quickly as it began; his face dropped as he grabbed you by the shoulders; pulling you into the room before closing the door behind you, ensuring that it was locked. He turned to you then, shoulders rising as he visibly struggled to find the words, eventually; he did, voice hushed, urgent. “What- what are you doing here, Y/N?” 

Gulping, you found yourself unable to answer his question in the rise of his anger and the sight of the strip of bare skin where his tank top and loose pants didn’t quite meet. Using your inability to speak as an excuse to move your eyes away from him, you surveyed the room. The room was beautiful; intricately decorated with deep, royal hues of red and black, long pillars lining each corner of the room and a large master bed placed directly at the centre. But, what truly drew your eyes were the boxes splayed throughout the room; some still in their flattened form, some filled with various belongings. You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-” 

“Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted. 

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as you collapsed upon his bed; making yourself as small as possible upon the sheets, “I shouldn’t have done that- In fact, I should be the one to leave.” You stood, nodding determinedly at him, “I’ll go and see Charles tomorrow; I was the one that kissed you, I should-” 

“No.” His tone sliced through your train of thought, rendering you silent. His chest was heaving with breaths, bracing up and down beneath the thin linen of his tank top. He had the beginning of dark circles forming beneath his wrinkled eyes; the foundational period of a lack of sleep. Gulping, you waited for him to continue, the urge to reach forward and run a finger through the light stubble upon his jaw ever-prevalent. He began to speak before pausing, his gaze earnest; broken and open for you to feast upon, cast your worst abjections upon him. “What I did was wrong, Y/N-” 

“What you did?” Shaking your head, you paced before him, floods of dread filled your gut; dread at the implications he sported and the fear within his voice, “I don’t know what you think that was Erik, but-” 

“Y/N, I am your professor.” His tone was final, serious; his chest raised and fell rapidly as he visibly tightened his jaw, his teeth grinding within his mouth. “I teach you history three days a week, I grade your papers and I answer any questions you may have; that is my duty.”

“What does duty have to do with-” 

“Everything,” His voice had risen; trembling upon the line of full blown shouting. Shaking his head, he splayed a hand over his mouth; turning away from you slightly- you could only watch, hands shaking, as he visibly filed through his own thoughts, “I was allowed here to protect you, people like you. To protect people like me; not to expose them to my perverted inhibitions-” 

“Perverted?” You cackled, genuinely throwing your head backwards; the residual tension of humour and horror rising within your throat, “Erik, I am a completely willing adult-” 

He shook his head determinedly, “You are my student.” Shrugging, you cast your arms wide, wild eyes entirely unbridled as you stared at him; the fire within your soul could not be snuffed, “Well, I won’t be soon. It’s almost summer and then my training is up; I’m free to do as I please.” You were visibly angered, voice clipped and cheeks blazing with heat, “Don’t leave because of me.” Emotions dimmed, you crossed your arms; swallowing, tongue between your teeth, “If anything, I’m just some silly little girl.” 

Sighing, he walked to his bed and sat upon it. His back was hunched; arms long in his lap as he refused to meet your eyes. So deep in his own state of emotional turmoil, your own internal vitriol cast no objection upon him. He seemed to be waiting; waiting for you to shout, to scream, to curse him for defiling your so-called perpetual innocence. You beat the rise of his voice with your own, “I’m not angry at you, Erik.”

He froze, his form stilling; arms encased within his lap as his eyes widened, his voice was low when he spoke, the syllables long and pained, “What?” 

Shaking your head, you tightened your jaw; willing your eyes to stop filling with tears, emotion overtaking you at his silence, his inability to just understand. You repeat yourself once again, “I’m not angry at you,” 

“Y/N, I don’t understand-” 

“I wanted it,” Swallowing, you faced your feelings; your doubts, head on, “I wanted all of it, just as much as you did.” 

He shook his head, standing and stepping forward; his hands spasmed at his side, desperate to reach out, to touch, “As I do,” You shook your head, confused, “Just as much as I do Y/N.” 

“Erik-” 

“We can’t tell anyone,” He was whispering now, a hand raised to brush the hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear, “Not until I’m no longer your professor.” A beat. “Do you understand me?” 

You nodded, immediate and fast, “Of course.” Ever obedient to his every command. 

“Good,” He gave you a closed-lipped smile, his cheeks crinkling, “Good girl.” 

Requiring no further confirmation, you leaped forward; gripping his face as you encased his lips with your own. As they met, he gasped your name like a prayer; the syllables sacred and protected, gasped in tandem with the beat of his heart and the rush of his own blood. The deafening waves of pleasure took power to your conscience as he walked the two of you backwards; kicking stray boxes from his path as the two of you crashed upon his bedsheets- the harsh lines of his body pressing you down, down into the velvet of his bedspread as you clawed at his shoulders. Keeping his lips upon yours, he moved a hand upwards, gripping at the hair at the base of your neck; he pulled then, your head tilting backward as he bit at the skin of your lip; devouring your mouth within his own and licking at the blood that he drew. You bent immediately to his will. 

Allowing your eyes to slip shut, pleasure and shock and desire admonishing any sense of awareness; you felt as he began to move downwards, his lips trailing upon the curve of your neck, the bend of your jaw and the skin beside your ear. His fingers danced at the edge of your shirt; inching it, slowly and carefully, upwards towards your armpits. You took it upon yourself to push him backwards, raising slightly only to reach down and pull the shirt off, over your head and onto his bedroom floor. You could only blink as his eyes caught upon the bare skin of your breasts that had laid beneath the singular layer, could only blink as he trailed their outline with his fingertips before trailing them further downwards, to the waistline of your pyjama pants. He stopped then, eyes raising to your own; past the rapid rise and fall of your burning chest, “Can I?”

Nodding hastily, you dragged a hand through his hair, watching as he manoeuvred both your pants and underwear over your hips and down your legs in one go, “Almost died when I saw these little shorts.” He practically sighed the words out, pressing a kiss to your upper thigh as he pulled the material over your knees. 

There, you laid completely naked beneath his entirely clothed form. The predetermined power dynamic existing between you was ever prevalent; but in that moment, you felt like the powerful one- empowered by the way his throat bobbed and eyes glistened at the expanse of your skin, by the way his hands lifted your thighs and the ghost of his breath warming the mound between them. Whimpering at the sensation, at the feeling of being watched by him; the burn of his gaze- you pleaded, begged with your own eyes, begging him to do something. Nodding, rubbing a soothing hand upon your thigh, he leant forward, testing the waters- planting a kiss upon your clit. You reacted instantly, jolting and tightening the hand within his hair; you felt him grin against the skin of your pussy, his breath releasing in chuffs. Then, he moved; dragging his tongue through your folds, the sensation lighting a fire within you as you collapsed backwards against the sheets; writhing, hand still secured within his hair as you pulled. 

It felt like hours, years, mere minutes as he lapped at you; his tongue making sinful, disgusting noises against you as his hands gripped at your hips; securing you down upon the bed as you attempted to writhe beneath the hold of his pleasure. Panting, your hair stuck to the damp skin of your lips as you threw your head to the side; finding purchase anywhere you could- you felt your orgasm begin to build, the tingling sensation burning within your abdomen, spreading to the hilt like wildfire. This wasn’t like when you would touch yourself to the thought of him, beneath your duvet; head held firmly to your pillow- this was free, unadulterated pleasure; your climax reaching faster than you could anticipate. 

Through the haze within your mind, through the scratch of your fingers upon his scalp; you found purchase to the last string of your own sentient conscience, “Erik, wait-’ He halted instantly, pulling back; his hair pointing in a number of directions and mouth ajar; he looked horrified, terrified at the thought of hurting you. Laughing, you shook your head; reaching forward to run a finger over his swollen red lips; you snorted, instantly spitting out an apology, “Sorry, I’m sorry I just-” Your voice was awash with humour as you spoke, grinning down at him, “I- I was going to cum.” 

“Ah,” He replied slowly; nodding as he scratched at the base of his head; his gaze was shy from beneath his eyelashes. 

You couldn’t wipe the grin from your face as you watched him, reaching forward to pull him upwards until he faced you directly, as the cotton of his tank top brushed against the skin of your breasts; you realised with stark clarity that he was still fully dressed. With a glance downwards, you spoke, “I think you need to match me here.” 

Cocking an eyebrow, he tilted his face; smirking down at you as he moved a hand to dissect the hair from your face and lips, “Do I now?” 

“Yes, I think so.” Nodding, you dragged the strap of his top from his shoulders with your pointer finger; tracing the wiry muscles of his bare arms propped above you as you did so. He rose then, grinning at your dejected moan as he moved to pull the top over his head; exposing the expanse of his chest; small, pink nipples and dusty hair painting a trail down his naval. His form was muscular yet thin; the outlines of muscles existent like ivy wrapped around his biceps, strong yet undefined. You walked two fingers upon his naval, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants as you smiled toothily up at him; he rolled his eyes before pulling down his pants, allowing his cock to spring free. 

You spent a long moment willing your eyes not to widen; fearful of breaking the finely held thread of tension- his dick was, what Jean would describe as, ‘Boyfriend Material’. You hadn’t understood the term when she’d said it during your recent trip to the cinema, shaking your head as she betted that Scott ‘definitely had a boyfriend material dick’. When you had tried to discuss what Erik’s dick might be like; she had simply gagged, waving her hand exasperatedly as she begged you not to discuss such a thing. 

But you definitely understood what she had meant now. 

“Hey,” A voice said in front of your face, Erik, in the midst of your personal vignette- Erik had lowered himself back down; arms braced above your head as he smiled down at you, head quirked to the side. Grinning back, you wrapped your arms around the base of his neck before bringing him down into a soft, slow kiss. It was the slowest kiss the two of you had experienced so far; not fueled by abrupt pleasure or the weight of confession- the two of you simply existed, within his bedroom with the flat-packed boxes; upon his silk sheets. You felt it as he breathed you in, inhaling heavily through his nose as he continued to move his lips upon yours. When he pulled back to allow you to breathe, his mouth was visibly curved downwards with emotion; his thumb traced the skin of your jaw before tracing the skin of your lips, tracing where his own had just been.

His lips quivered; pink and wet with the sheen of your combined saliva, “Have you ever-?” He questioned, his eyes flickering downwards; you shook your head meekly, swallowing heavily as he nodded; a sweet, sincere smile curling the edges of his mouth, “Okay, darling.” He cooed, reaching upwards to tuck your hair behind your ear, smooth a hand over the red of your cheeks. 

You found your voice, watching him through the flutter of your eyelashes; his bare skin and ruffled hair- the parts of him that you had never seen before, that he was allowing you to see, “Never got the chance, having superpowers and all.” 

He laughed, nodding down at you, eyes glistening with adornment, almost as if he were in love. Though his face turned serious then, mouth straightening and eyebrows creasing as he looked upon you, “You can say no, sweetheart. We don’t have to-” 

“I want to,” You cut in, nodding determinedly up at him; reaching up to smooth out the crease of his brow, “More than anything.” 

He kissed you then; his hand instantly moving to cup your jaw, the other moving to caress the skin of your thigh; procuring a sickly, sweet burn that caused you to pant against his lips; his own instantly curling into a smirk as he felt you do so. As his fingers met the hilt of your thigh, sliding between the heat above; he lowered his head until he came face-to-face with the pebbling skin of your nipple before placing his tongue upon it, twirling and flicking the bud as you gasped, back arching against the damp sheets below. You couldn’t help the almost pitiful moan of his name that left your lips, your eyes squeezed closed and head thrown back against his pillow; you felt him grin against the underside of your breast, his ministrations against the juxtaposing cold of your breast and the warmth of your clit causing deafening sensations to ricochet within your stomach. The twists of pleasure allowing only whispers of his name within your mind. 

Unable to do anything but lay there, you grit your teeth as he slid a finger into your heat; the length of it procuring a pinching pain as you winced. Pausing, he stroked the skin of your thigh; pressing a kiss there as he watched your face for any further signs of pain, “Tell me if it hurts too much.” He spoke into the skin of your thigh, you nodded down at him, granting a reassuring smile as he turned back to watch his hand- pushing the finger deeper and swiping at your clit as he did so. Soon, the pinching pain turned to pleasure; your muscles loosening as you realised that this, actually, felt good. Soon you were a moaning mess within his hands; three fingers within you as he bent you to his will with the curve of his dexterous hands. Those hands that weld so much power, able to inflict so much pleasure.

Eventually, you grasped at his shoulders; panting and moaning as your nails pressed crescent moons into the skin there, “Please,” You moaned, eyes watering as you begged him, “Please I need more.”

He rose instantly, cock hard and aloft as he moved to his bedside table; retrieving a condom from the depths of it. He rolled it upon himself, before propping himself above you once again, his cock held at your entrance. He rubbed it between your folds, once, twice; his condom instantly covered in your own juices, before he looked up at you; one step away from the finale. “Sweetheart, are you sure?” 

Nodding, you bared yourself down upon him; lifting your legs to brace his hips. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised and chin lowered as he watched you; visibly demanding verbal confirmation, “Yes, Erik, yes. I’m ready.” 

Letting out a shuddering moan, he needed no further confirmation; inserting himself within the space he had enlarged- eyes instantly rolling back as he did so. He was not forceful as he inched himself inwards; his eyes did not stray from your face, searching for any sign of pain or resignation. You did not show any, mouth ajar and eyes wide as you moaned his name; legs tightening around the bracket of his hips. Upon reaching the hilt, he lowered himself to your chest; burying his face into the curve of your neck, the skin instantly growing wet with the humidity of his moans and your own sweat. “Is this okay?” He whispered, mouthing at your neck as he remained completely still; you nodded before shifting your hips, smiling as you felt the rush of breath against your neck. He instantly began to move; sinking home and immediately abandoning it as he methodically pushed in and out; his abdomen grinding against your clit. 

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” The sounds were more visceral moans than words as his hands steadfastly clutched your hips; procuring sounds that you didn’t believe to be possible to fall from your mouth; garbling mixtures of his name and indiscernible pleading. The sweat congregating between your bodies was slick and hot; the fibres of your beings connected at every last point as you moved together. You knew for a fact that you looked sincerely debauched; but with Erik whispering and moaning into your ear; you could hardly register a second thought as you sunk into the pleasure he allowed you. He too looked a mess when he moved from your neck; hair damp at the ends from sweat and eyes scrunched shut; mouth falling open as he seemed entirely lost to the verisimilitude of pleasure. He had never looked so beautiful, so unruly- the strict, formal clothing a distant memory as he moaned and whimpered and gasped above you. 

You felt your high reaching slowly as his abdomen brushed against your clit; the methodical movements torturous in their sporadicity. However, the moment he moved his thumb to your clit; you knew the end was near. He moved it in time with his thrusts, causing your mind to go blissfully blank as you could think of nothing but your fast approaching orgasm. The noise that left you as you came was barely a sound at all; head thrown back and eyes closed as your breaths crackled. You felt it as Erik came with you, hips stuttering and pulsing as he groaned for a long moment above you. He collapsed upon you then, the both of you panting together as you laid there in the pool of sweat formed upon his sheets. 

A large hand cupped the back of your head as you came back to yourself, a low voice humming praise and compliments into your ear as you came to. The cold air hit you for a moment as Erik pulled himself out of you, disposing of the condom before lifting you into his arms; pulling back the duvet and depositing you into the warmth of his bed. 

Sleep tinged the edges of your vision; though you couldn’t get one thought out of your mind, “Please don’t leave.” The words were barely a whisper, spoken into the darkness of his bedroom. 

Erik shuffled beside you, sighing before wrapping you up in his arms; comforting and secure “I won’t leave you sweetheart, not again.”