#Blue stragglers are interesting

[celestialdaily]

The celestial object of the day is M13 or Hercules globular cluster!

The Arecibo message targeted this cluster, conveying encoded details about humanity. Within it, "blue stragglers," massive old and blue stars resulting from collisions within the cluster, can be found.

[the-monkeies-girl]

*Face down in my bed as I am writing this out on my phone*

Caesar is not a cuddly sort of Ape but he will bring your body in closer if you're both in the midst of half-hazed sleep and he senses you're cold in the middle of the night. Preference is really having you on top of his chest as the two of you sleep, he likes the assurance that you're near in case he needs to protect. Followed closely by the preference of having you laying on his outstretched arm, using it as a pillow as you coil tightly into him, pressing your face into the side of his chest and seeping into his warmth. Noa is a big time straggler when he sleeps, not really a cuddler but he does have appendages on you at most times as he likes to sleep on his stomach with his arms and legs outstretched. You like it as it keeps you warm on colder nights, and he will grab hold of you and pull you in closer in mid-sleep and it always leaves you wondering what he's dreaming about. Until he starts drooling on you and you're groaning, trying to roll away but the grip he has on you is insanely tight.

Blue Eyes does enjoy the closeness of cuddling, though he's not really willing to admit that that's what it is. To him, you just like to curl yourself into him and feel the heat radiating off of him, and he'll just so happen to wrap an arm around you after his stunned silence drifts away at having you so close. He'll bring you in close out of selfish want to nestle his muzzle into your hair, even going as far as to trail his thick fingers between the strands here and there as you fall asleep. Koba doesn't cuddle what were you EXPECTING. Instead, he will find himself watching you sleep. He's torn on conflicting notions though. One part of him likes to watch you, it's one of those primal instincts that carries heavy into his attraction to you. Stupid little defenseless human that needs his protecting at all times. On the flip side, he will ( never admitting to anyone even himself ) watch you out of curiosity. The way your mouth falls open when sleep finally over powers you, the rise and fall of your shoulders. Interesting. And disgusting. He wants to break every bone in your body. And then heal them for you.

[kaeyalovr]

Yandere Kaeya x reader drabble

idk I'm really bored it's 3AM and I wanted to post something. Not proofread sorry for any mistakes!!

tw. kidnapping, non-con, kaeya being a bit creepy but it's okay we love him

1,5k words

You've just been hired as one of Jean's many assistants. The pay could be better but it's enough to get by and hey, it's not like you have the right to be super picky about it, this is one of your first jobs so you have pretty much no prior experience becides some freelance gigs here and there.

You were initially very happy with the fact that you were going to get to assist the acting grand master and actually help mondstadt directly. Having wild dreams of being Jean's right hand woman, ready to be at her beck and call, being a part of important meetings giving insightful advice, you know, making mondstadt a better place.

Boy were you in for a rude awakening when you realized all you got to actually do was boring paperwork all day long. Just. Paperwork. Oh and sometimes if it was a really exciting day, you got to deliver a letter or two!

So obviously when the flirtatious cavalry captain started chatting with you by your desk every now and then, you appreciated it. It was just mindless small talk; "how has your day been?" "do you want a cup of coffee?" "the weather's nice today", but nonetheless you enjoyed it. It was a nice distraction in the middle of a boring day filled with piles and piles of documents. You even started looking forward to having him stop by your desk.

Little did you know how much he enjoyed it too. Honestly you didn't know why he had taken such an interest in you, he didn't seem to talk to the other office workers this much. Well he didn't seem to talk to them at all.

Your talks got more and more frequent, which you didn't mind, until they started interfering with your work. At the start he would stay for maybe five minutes, but it gradually got longer and longer, eventually he started lingering for what seemed like forever, talking about the most monotonous things. If you tried to do your work while he was talking, he would stop you and in a playful tone call you rude for not giving him your full attention. Honestly, if you, a simple office worker, was falling behind on your work because of this how did he, a cavalry CAPTAIN, find the time for these conversations? Did he seriously not have work of his own to attend to?

Then he started to get weird. First, quick glances at your lips or breasts, then his and your hands started "accidentally" brushing against each other and then a frequent hand on your shoulder or hip. You started getting uncomfortable. Did he always stand so close to you? Did he always keep his hand motionless on your thigh? Did he always call you by a cringy petname?

After a few weeks of this you decided to leave, he was a captain for archons sake, you couldn't avoid him. Especially not when you were couped up in one place for practically the whole day. Whatever, you got a new job in a local antique shop. At least this job would be more suited to your tastes and let you strech your legs a bit more. Plus there would be no creepy blue haired man to disturb you anymore.

You worked a full day in your old office before you were given permission to pack up your desk and leave. Jean really wanted to get every mora's worth out of you huh. The sun was setting below the horizon now, some nice scenery while you pack your things. Your multicolored pens which you only used once, a photo of you and your family and a mug gifted to you by an old friend. The office was almost empty at this point, except for a couple late night stragglers too focused on their work to notice anything anyway. You lasted a total of two months here, a bit pathetic but it's okay, now you know you're not cut out for the office life.

You're done packing relatively quickly since you didn't have much stuff there. As your desk was so small and overflowing with papers so there wasn't much space to have personal belongings stored anywhere. You're about to head out the door when a familiar voice stops you in your tracks, Kaeya. You exchange pleasantries and tell him you're packing up to leave. He seems shocked at that and asks why you're leaving, you give him some excuse about how you got a better paying job somewhere else. Definitely not because of you, you muse to yourself. Though the former reasoning is not entirely untruthful.

He says it's dark and offers to walk you home, you know, for safety. He's right and you didn't mind a 20 minute walk with him if it meant you never had to see him again. If only you'd been a little smarter.

While walking with Kaeya you engage in your usual smalltalk, though his voice is lower than usual. He's walking behind you all calm and nonchalant, and it's giving you the creeps even though you know it shouldn't, you rationalize his behaviors as him being tired after a long day of work. You try to walk a bit more briskly than usual to get to your house faster. You're renting out a room in a nice old lady's house.

You two are walking in a particularly dark and empty alleyway when you suddenly feel a hand clamp over your mouth. Panicked you look back and catch a glimpse of an ever unfazed Kaeya being the perpetrator of this act. His other arm wraps around your neck and crushes your windpipe. You struggle in his arms, your strength being no match for his, he easily overpowers you and keeps you firm in his grasp. You thrash a bit more before everything turns black.

You wake up in a foreign king-size bed with cold silky sheets. You lift your hand up to rub at your eyes but notice the leather belt binding both your hands to the headboard. You get increasinly panicked and memories of the night before come flodding back. You start to thrash and open your mouth to scream when the bedroom door opens.

In walks the blue haired prick who did this to you. You hurl every insult you can think of at him and demand he lets you go. He merely chuckles and asks why he would do that. You threaten to scream, he threatens to gag you, you stay silent. You start to get desperate and once you finally accept that the leather restraints won't budge, you plead with him, promise to not tell anyone about what he did. He simply retorts that even if you did miraculously escape and tell someone, no one would believe you.

He walks toward the bed and you try to rationalize the situation you're in right now. Why did he choose you and what does he even want to do with you? Does he intend to hold you for ransom? No, he's a decorated captain with presumably plenty of riches. Does he want some top secret information from you? He starts to unbuckle his pants. Oh. THAT'S what he wants.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Your heart starts racing as you understand the severity of the predicament you're in right now. He climbs onto the bed, on top of you. This has to be a nightmare or some fucked up prank right? He pulls down your pants and let's out a wolf whistle. That fucking bastard. Next goes your panties and he rolls up your shirt, unable to pull it off completely because of your bound hands. Your breathing quickens. You beg him to stop. He doesn't.

He pulls down his boxers, you close your eyes tight and start hyperventilating. "Don't cry sweetheart, it's okay. Fuck you're so hot when you cry. Hey, look at me." He lightly slaps your face a few times. You reluctantly open your eyes and unintentionally glance down. He's fucking massive. Well not like the biggest dick in Teyvat but it's gotta be up there on the list man. Not that you've had a lot of experience to know what's big and what's not. Well none really. But you know for a fact that THAT is not gonna fit inside you, and you don't want it to.

He leans down and starts getting into position. You get a surge of adrenaline and start to thrash and struggle with all your might. Kaeya gets annoyed at that, grabs your legs and tells you to stop struggling and mumbles something about how it'll be easier for the both of you. You don't really care what he says and kick him straight in the stomach. You know it didn't do any real damage to him but it stops him for a minute. He's pissed.

"You know, I tried to do this the nice way. But you just love to make it difficult and act like a brat all the fucking time don't you. Not to worry, we have the whole day to fuck that out of you." Is the last thing you hear before he spears into you.

grrrr I left so much out but I gtg to sleep (also rushed ending sorry). Might make this into a fic if I feel like it and you guys want it😝 reqs are open btw

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: a Pirates Promise

Chapter 62.5 part 1: Ichiji and Pudding

A/N: I am officially back after some time away, as some may know, I needed to take some time away from writing since my grandfather had passed away. We were able to fulfill his last wish, and also take some time for myself. I won't lie, I really missed writing and I missed the little community I built from this series, and I have so many ideas, like when I tell you the ideas were flowing!! But for this chapter it's the same as I did Doflamingo, so, it'll be a bit long as we have two characters, Ichiji and Pudding as they both played a part for the whole cake arc. But for this we will go more in depth, we will see a side of pudding where we see why she was the way that she was with y/n, when she was brought to the arranged marriage with Ichiji as well as the real plan behind it all. Remember everything is connected. I'll drop this chapter in parts since this is all Ichiji and his recount as well as his POV... and then I'll do pudding, and then we hit wano! Trust me once we get to Wano... heheh

And without further ado, let the adventure begin!

Ichiji’s POV: Weeks before the arranged marriage between Sanji and Y/N

“I don’t understand why Father insists we watch this broadcast from Caesar,” I muttered, already bored.

“Lighten up, brother,” Yonji laughed, leaning back in his seat. “You never know—maybe it’ll actually help us with Germa’s next move.”

Niji chuckled as he strolled into the room with a tray of whiskey glasses, handing them out. “Father and his grand plan to conquer the North Blue again… yet he still can’t catch a clue.”

I took a sip. “Exactly.”

“Who cares!” Niji barked out a laugh, settling into his seat.

The video transponder snail flickered before displaying Caesar Clown, voice echoing through the room. “And last, but certainly not least… we have Princess Y/N.”

“Ha! A princess!” Yonji snorted.

“She’s quite the looker, isn’t she?” Caesar said, turning to his audience with an oily grin.

Just then, I watched as you—defiant and regal—spat directly at Caesar.

“Ohh, this one’s got claws,” Niji laughed in amusement.

“I can’t wait for you to die,” Caesar sneered, wiping his face.

“Careful, Caesar,” you said smoothly, a smirk playing on your lips. “My captain doesn’t take kindly to threats.”

“…Y/N,” I whispered, unable to hide the shift in my tone.

Suddenly, the video feed cut out.

“Shit! Bring it back!” I shouted, leaning forward.

“Relax,” Yonji said, though his eyes sparkled with interest—and something else. He wasn’t the only one. Niji’s gaze remained locked on the blank screen, heart-eyes practically glowing.

Hours passed.

Finally, the screen flickered back to life.

“Finally!” I exhaled sharply.

“And for all you brookers out there, get ready for the ride of your lives,” Y/N’s voice rang out, confident and wild. She floated effortlessly, sword gripped in her right hand as she clashed with that snow harpy—Monet.

“Damn, she’s strong,” Niji muttered in awe.

But then—Monet’s claws slashed deep into her side.

Y/N gasped.

“Any last words, harlot?” Monet sneered, fangs bared.

Before she could strike again, a familiar, frustrating voice cut through the chaos.

“Raaaah! Save those kids!” Sanji’s voice.

Our failure of a brother.

“Why are those marines answering to you?!” shouted one of the crewmates near Y/N—probably one of Sanji’s useless stragglers.

“Idiot! Can’t you see Y/N’s in trouble?!” the same crewmate yelled again, snapping Sanji’s attention.

Y/N clenched her left hand—flames erupted, engulfing Monet in a blaze. She staggered, bleeding but unyielding, as she made her way toward Sanji.

“Would you two quit it? I would’ve died if it wasn’t for that distraction—Sanji and those marines,” she grumbled, pressing Sanji’s extended toe against her wound like a makeshift bandage.

“Looks like our little brother’s got a thing for her,” Yonji laughed.

“Too bad,” I muttered, eyes narrowing.

Because I had already made up my mind.

She wasn’t just strong—she had fire. Drive. Worth. She wasn’t some pawn in one of Father’s pathetic alliances.

“She’s more than fit to be my wife,” I declared coldly, standing up.

Yonji and Niji turned toward me in surprise.

“It’s time I paid Father a visit,” I continued. “Sanji’s already being handed off to one of the Charlottes. What’s another wedding?”

Without another word, I turned and strode toward the door.

This time, I’d make the arrangements.

This time, I would choose.

I stormed into Father’s quarters, the heavy doors slamming shut behind me. Judge barely looked up from his glass of wine.

“And why the hell would I send one of my greatest sons to marry some pirate?” he scoffed, swirling his drink.

“She’s not just a pirate,” I replied coldly, stepping forward and tossing the wanted poster onto his desk. “She has drive, fire, a bounty that demands attention—and a title. Look at her face. Read her name.”

Judge’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in. The moment he saw the poster, the wine slipped from his lips as he spat it out in shock.

“It… it can’t be…” he muttered, staring at it like he’d seen a ghost.

“Can’t be what?” I asked, stepping closer. But Judge simply shook his head, jaw tight, dismissing the thought.

“You want a wedding, son?” he said after a tense pause, already reaching for the transponder snail. “You got it.”

I stood in silence as he dialed.

“Big Mom,” he said into the receiver, “it’s Judge. We’ll be having two weddings that day.”

“The hell you mean two weddings?!” came Linlin’s booming voice.

“I’ll send you a picture and some… details,” Judge replied cryptically. “You’ll understand why.”

He hung up and let out a low breath, eyes distant.

“Give me a few minutes alone, son,” he said finally. “In the meantime, prepare yourself. I’m sending you to some of the lesser countries to collect protection fees. Consider it a test of diplomacy before the ceremony.”

I didn’t respond, only gave him a nod before turning on my heel.

Whatever secret Father’s hiding about Y/N… I’ll find out.

But first, I had a wedding to prepare for—and a bride to claim.

A few days passed in routine: missions with Niji, skirmishes, negotiations, and silent brooding over the wedding to come. But before departing for Bro-coli Island, I returned to Father's quarters in the Germa Kingdom.

One of the maids—a persistent one, a former conquest I hardly remembered—fluttered behind me, practically tripping over herself to stay in my line of sight.

“Were you able to secure the dresses I ordered? And the accessories, wines, shoes, flowers?” I asked without turning to look at her.

“Yes—and yes,” she replied eagerly, voice too hopeful.

“Good. Be sure the reports are on my desk when I return. My fiancée will be thrilled.” The way her face fell, you’d think I’d struck her.

I checked my watch, calculating time before departure. “I still have a few minutes to kill. Maybe I’ll swing by Chocolat Town—pick up some sweets. Maybe the ring’s ready too.”

“Oh—Ichiji,” Father called from behind his desk. “Almost forgot. Your fiancée has arrived in Chocolat Town. At least that’s what one of Big Mom’s soldiers reported.”

I paused. Fiancée. Chocolat Town.

The words echoed like fate whispering in my ear.

“She is of great importance,” Father added, his voice a command now. “Don’t screw this up.”

But I was already halfway out the door, smirking.

“Excellent. I’ll grab what I need—and her ring.”

The moment my boots touched the polished cobblestone of Chocolat Town, the air changed. Sugar and syrup lingered in the wind, but the usual hustle died into whispers when they saw me. Raid suit off, I walked with purpose.

White dress shirt—tight and crisp. Black slacks—creased and sharp. Shades—on. Presence—undeniable.

Shopkeepers trembled behind counters, their fear amusing but expected. I scanned the square, searching.

And then I saw her.

Short corset white dress, frilled sleeves catching the sun like silk. White heels. A headband perfectly placed over hair that glistened with effortless strength. She wasn’t just dressed like a bride—she looked like a storm disguised in lace.

She was focused on her purse, not the path ahead. I saw the direction she was heading. The chocolate fountain.

“Of course,” I muttered, already moving.

She stumbled— —but before she could fall, I caught her by the waist.

“Careful,” I said smoothly, eyes locked on hers behind my shades. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the dress. Not before I get to see you walk down the aisle in it.”

Her eyes widened—was it recognition? Surprise? Whatever it was, the moment was ours.

"You're right; we wouldn’t want that now, would we?" she replied, laughing—a light, genuine sound that made something shift in my chest.

I chuckled as well, the sound coming more naturally than I expected.

"Well, I better be heading back to the café. Thanks for the save back there," she said, a soft smile on her lips as she turned to leave.

But I wasn’t ready to let the moment end.

“Wait!” I said, reaching out to gently grab her wrist.

She paused, brow slightly raised in surprise.

“Why don’t I take you back?” I offered, my tone lighter than usual. “That way, you don’t trip into any more chocolate.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow, the hint of amusement in her eyes dancing. She glanced at my hand on her wrist and slowly moved to free herself.

“If you want,” she said, voice teasing but calm.

And just like that, we walked side by side through Chocolat Town, the sugary air thick with tension neither of us acknowledged.

I kept stealing glances at her—at how the dress hugged her form, how the breeze caught her hair, how the sunlight seemed to chase her with every step.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was… comfortable. Strange, but welcome.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, noticing how her gaze lingered on my features. A soft blush escaped her before she quickly looked away.

“Everything is just fine,” she said, her voice calm but warm—reassuring.

We finally reached the café. She paused at the entrance, turning to face me.

“Well, this is it… Oh, I almost forgot!” she said suddenly. Then, before I could react, she leaned in and pressed a light kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you for walking with me,” she said, eyes sparkling, lips curved in a small smile.

I stood there frozen, stunned into silence, watching as she disappeared back inside the café.

A slow smirk crept onto my face. “No problem… fiancée,” I murmured under my breath, touching the spot where her lips had been.

I turned on my heel and headed further into Chocolat Town, my next stop already in mind: the jeweler’s. It was time to pick up the engagement ring.

But just as I reached the storefront, my transponder snail began ringing. I sighed and answered.

“What is it, Niji?”

“Where the hell are you?!” Niji barked. “We’re supposed to be on our way to Bro-coli Island right now!”

I glanced toward the café one last time, that smirk still tugging at my lips.

“I’ll be there,” I said coolly. “Had some important business to handle first.”

“Whatever, just don’t keep me waiting, Ichiji!”

He hung up before I could reply. I slipped the snail back into my pocket and entered the shop.

The ring was ready.

And so was I.

A few days passed, and we had finally made it to Brocoli Island. The mission was swift—whatever problem they were having, Niji and I handled it without breaking a sweat. Another failed rebellion, another empty threat. We collected our payment, watched the locals tremble in gratitude or fear—it hardly mattered.

But my mind? It wasn’t here.

No, my thoughts had already drifted back to Chocolat Town. To her.

The way her dress hugged her frame, the soft curls that framed her face, that delicate smile right before she kissed my cheek… it all played over and over in my head like a loop I didn’t want to escape from.

I found myself staring into the distance as Niji kept ranting about the pathetic state of Brocoli’s defenses.

“You even listening?” he snapped.

“Not really,” I replied coolly, smirking as I adjusted my gloves. “I have better things to think about.”

Niji raised an eyebrow. “Still thinking about that pirate chick, huh? You’re whipped already.”

“Watch your mouth,” I warned, my tone dropping low. “She’s not just any woman. She’s my fiancée.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go soft on me. We’ve got another mission after this.”

I nodded absently, already walking toward the ship. “Let’s finish up. I want to get back before the ring loses its shine.”

As we departed Brocoli Island, the wind picked up around us. I stood on the deck, one hand in my pocket, the other resting on the railing.

Soon, I thought.

Soon, she'd be mine—and no one, not even Sanji, would stand in the way of that.

Just then, my transponder snail rang.

“The wedding is in nine days. We could make it back in two,” I said, tone calm, eyes narrowed.

“What about Sanji?” I asked.

“He’s already here,” came the reply from the other end.

I smirked. “Good. Be sure to prepare my room. Make it fit for my betrothed—understand?” I said, already picturing Y/N in white, not just the dress in Chocolat Town, but the one she’d wear walking down the aisle. Mine.

“And Sanji…” I paused, savoring the thought. “I can’t wait to see him.”

“Is that a joke?!” Niji said, scoffing as I ended the call.

“I can’t wait to see that failure’s face when he realizes I’m marrying his crewmate… and his crush,” I muttered, smirking.

Niji let out a loud, mocking laugh. “That’s cold—even for you.”

“If you need me, don’t bother,” I said, brushing past him as my boots echoed across the Germa ship’s steel floors.

Once inside my quarters, I activated my raid suit’s retract mechanism. The mask dissolved, the armor retreating into the capsule, leaving me in just black joggers and a sleeveless undershirt. I looked up at the ceiling, hands behind my head, the soft hum of the ship the only sound now.

“I can already see it… her beside me, ruling beside me. Even if she resists at first, the wedding is set. And thanks to Big Mom’s intel, we have someone important to her—likely the reason she came in the first place. To cancel the marriage. To save her crewmate who happens to be a failure of a brother, which is probably why she’s with only a few members from her crew, along with her captain.”

I chuckled darkly.

“She’s walking right into the lion’s den. And when the doors close behind her, there won’t be a way out.”

We finally arrived at Whole Cake Island after the two-day voyage. Donning my raid suit once more, I met with Niji on the deck. All I wanted now was to disembark and ensure everything was prepared for Y/N.

“Still daydreaming about your little princess?” Niji teased, elbowing me with a smug grin.

“Mind your own business,” I shot back, though a smirk tugged at my lips despite myself.

Cheers from Germa soldiers erupted as we stepped onto the landing platform. Their voices rang out, echoing across the grand entrance of the kingdom.

“Welcome back, Master Ichiji!”

“Congratulations on your engagement!”

“You two are made for each other!”

Each shout fueled my pride. Their respect was a reflection of my strength, my future, my claim. Whether Y/N wanted the marriage or not—frankly, that was irrelevant now. Especially when we held someone she’d die to save.

“Master Ichiji! Master Niji! It’s been too long!” another soldier beamed.

“I still can’t believe you two ended that mess at Broccoli Island so fast!”

“Why isn’t he coming out to greet us?” Niji asked, glancing around with mild annoyance. “Where is he?”

“Knock it off,” I muttered, irritation rising. The last thing I needed was talk of him.

As we made our way into the castle, the air thickened with anticipation. Everything was falling into place.

“Hey, Father! We’re back!” I called, stepping into the massive dining hall.

“Excellent work, Ichiji. And you too, Niji,” Judge boomed from his throne, his presence as commanding as ever.

“Have the arrangements been made like I asked?” I asked, gaze sharp as it cut toward one of the handmaids.

“Yes, young master. Allow me to retrieve the documentation,” she said with a practiced curtsy, eyes fluttering far too long on mine.

“Tch,” I muttered. The sycophantic flattery grated.

“Where is he?” Niji asked again, voice louder this time.

The answer came with the echo of heels.

“Right here,” Reiju said coolly, stepping into view.

Trailing behind her was Sanji.

“Sanji!” Niji burst out. “Wow, you really didn’t die. Look at you—still breathing!”

His laugh cracked through the tension like a whip.

I said nothing. I didn’t need to. My eyes locked onto Sanji, calm, unreadable. He looked unchanged—same infuriatingly composed stare, hands in his pockets like none of this mattered.

But I could see it—the moment his eyes flicked toward me. The hint of something deeper beneath the surface.

Good, I thought. Let him watch. Let him squirm.

Because soon… he’d see the ring.

And soon… he’d realize who it was for.

“Don’t you want to congratulate Ichiji on his marriage to Princess Y/N?” Niji taunted, his voice loud and gleeful. “I mean, she is your crewmate and all…”

I chuckled, slow and deliberate, enjoying how the tension thickened like fog in the room.

Our father turned toward me, curiosity twinkling in his usually cold eyes. “Ichiji, have you had the chance to see her yet?”

“I have,” I replied, cool and composed. “Back in Chocolat Town. She was wearing a short white dress.”

I paused, watching Sanji from the corner of my eye.

“She looked… exquisite,” I added, my voice dipping to something darker. “Like an angel among mortals.”

Sanji didn’t speak, but his fists clenched at his sides. Perfect.

I leaned back, smirking. “The way it fit her… it was impossible not to imagine her walking down the aisle in it.”

Sanji’s jaw tightened, and that little flash of pain in his eyes—that was the reaction I was after. I could almost taste the victory on my tongue.

Reiju stepped forward with a forced lightness in her tone. “Have you told her yet?”

“Not yet,” I replied, feigning patience. “But I will. Soon. And it’ll be something she’ll never forget. She’ll know just how lucky she is.”

Sanji snapped.

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” he barked. “It’s not what she wants!”

The room fell silent.

My smile didn’t waver.

“She agreed to the wedding, didn’t she?” I said smoothly. “She came all this way. Maybe you should ask yourself why.”

Sanji’s breathing was heavy now, chest rising and falling. I could see it—the doubt, the fury. And I relished every second.

Because no matter what he said… the wedding was happening.

“You arrogant bastard,” Sanji snapped, stepping forward. “Like she’ll ever agree to this arranged marriage—this fake fantasy of yours!”

I didn’t flinch. His outburst only fueled my pride.

“You’ll see soon enough,” I said with a cold smirk, letting his rage bounce off me like nothing.

Time passed, and eventually, we were all seated at the long dining table. Plates clattered, wine poured, and despite the tension, our father insisted on a formal meal.

“Let’s talk about something pleasant, shall we?” Reiju said, trying to cut through the heaviness. She leaned in slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “Ichiji, let’s see the ring. I heard it’s the same one Y/N tried on back in Chocolat Town.”

With a quiet chuckle, I pulled the small velvet box from my pocket and opened it slowly. The light caught the gem just right, making it glow with a deep, blood-red gleam.

“Red ruby,” I said, letting the words linger. “Rare—just like her. With diamonds surrounding it.”

I turned the box slightly so they could all see.

“Elegant. Strong. A symbol of everything she is… and everything she’ll be as my wife.”

Sanji’s knife clattered against his plate, the sound sharp and sudden.

But I didn’t look at him.

I just smiled at the ring.

And thought of her.

“It looks beautiful,” Reiju said, her voice soft but laced with something sharper. She tilted her head, eyeing the ring before looking straight at me with a knowing smirk. “But… will she love you?”

The question hung in the air like a blade.

Sanji stiffened beside her, his jaw tightening. He didn’t need to say anything—his silence screamed louder than words.

I leaned back in my chair, not missing a beat. “Love can grow,” I said coolly, locking eyes with her. “She’ll come to see what’s best for her.”

Reiju raised a brow, unconvinced. “Or maybe she already knows… and that’s the problem.”

That earned a few glances around the table, but I didn’t falter.

“She will love me,” I said, the calm in my voice hiding the edge beneath it. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

The glint in Sanji’s eyes darkened as he shot back, “You can’t force love, Ichiji. She deserves someone who truly cares for her.”

“Of course, and that someone is me,” I countered, relishing the challenge. “Soon, everyone will see how perfect we are together.”

Reiju sighed, sipping her wine as if she’d seen this argument a thousand times before.

Our father straightened in his seat, commanding the room with ease. The noise settled. “Enough. Let’s focus on what matters.”

He cleared his throat, folding his hands behind his back as he looked toward me and Niji. “The fall of the Bro Coli regime has sent waves across the region. With Doflamingo defeated and no longer supplying weapons, they crumbled faster than anticipated. A significant victory for Germa.”

A murmur of approval circled the table.

“And as I last recall, Ichiji,” Father continued, his voice carrying a note of intrigue, “didn’t your fiancée… face Doflamingo? Even defeated one of his top executives?”

That sparked a flicker of surprise even in Niji.

“If the rumors are true,” Father went on, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, “then she truly is her... those rings and weapons…”

“What the hell is he on about?” I thought, my smile faltering just slightly. But I pushed the thought aside. Whatever obsession or memory he was chasing didn’t matter.

“She truly is remarkable,” I said aloud, voice steady, gaze fixed ahead. “Strong, beautiful, destined for something greater. She belongs with us.”

Sanji remained silent now, but his clenched jaw said more than his words ever could.

“She truly is remarkable,” I said aloud, voice steady, gaze fixed ahead. “Strong, beautiful, destined for something greater. She belongs with us.”

Sanji remained silent now, but his clenched jaw said more than his words ever could.

Yonji, lounging as always, took another bite of his bread, his smirk deepening. “If she's anything like she was when we first saw her during that broadcast, then I definitely should've called dibs first.”

I felt the shift in Sanji’s posture instantly, but I didn’t look his way yet.

Yonji went on, cruel amusement in his tone. “And if she's anything like what I just saw—wearing that short blue skirt and cropped tank back on that ship, showing off that body—man, I really should’ve made a move sooner."

My jaw tightened. I turned slowly toward him, tone cutting and cold. “Watch your mouth,” I warned. “She's still my fiancée, and I won’t tolerate any disrespect toward her.”

Yonji raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning like a fool. “Alright, alright. Just saying—”

“You’ve said enough,” I snapped, my voice low and deadly. The air thickened with tension.

Sanji suddenly pushed his chair back with a screech, shooting to his feet. “Wait, what broadcast?” His voice was tight, controlled, but barely.

Yonji laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly savoring the chaos. “Oh, you didn’t know? Back at Punk Hazard, Ichiji here couldn’t keep his eyes off her when she fought that bird woman. It was a hell of a fight.” He let out a chuckle. “He was practically drooling over the screen.”

Sanji’s face contorted, veins visible along his temple. “So you’ve been watching her this whole time?” he growled, stepping forward, fists clenched. “You bastards were the damn brokers keeping tabs on her!”

Reiju stood suddenly, voice sharp. “Enough! All of you.”

But Sanji didn’t back down. “You don’t get to sit there and talk about her like that. She’s not some object to be passed around in your twisted little kingdom. She’s a person. She’s my—” He stopped himself, breathing heavily.

“She’s your what, brother?” I said calmly, rising to my feet now as well, the ring box still in hand. “Because last I checked, she’s not yours. She’s engaged to me.”

Sanji’s eyes locked onto the ring, that red ruby catching the light just so.

“This isn’t over,” he said, voice low and trembling with rage. “Not by a long shot.”

.

.

..

.

[king-finnigan]

Leave the Door Ajar ch. 2

Fandom: Arcane Ship: Jayvik Previously:

Jayce gets banished from Piltover for his hextech project, where he gets robbed by a young Ekko, meets Benzo and gets laughed at by Viktor for being robbed

Also on AO3!

Chapter 1

There’s a spring in Jayce’s step as he makes his way to the Freeday market, despite the lack of sleep dragging his eyelids down and fuzzing the edges of his mind. He’s spent the past few nights working, tinkering away at newer, more refined versions of the moving bugs and designing different toys that he thinks the children of the Undercity might like. Nothing fancy - nothing that requires extra parts or gas to work, but simple things, things that can even be used with only one hand. He’s noticed the children of Zaun, of course he has, it’d been a shock to see them missing fingers or even entire limbs, and not for the first time he wonders how rough it really must be to be born here, to live here, to die prematurely here, and how sheltered he and the other people of Piltover have really been to the plight of their fellow citizens across the bridge.

There’s a strange sort of guilt in that. Could he have changed their life if he’d known? 

Would he have?

He shakes the thought away, just as he’s done many times over the past few days. No use thinking of that; he’s here now, and once he knows what he can do, he will do it.

Adrenaline and anxiety tenses his muscles as he gets closer to the market, the familiar hubbub of crowds of shoppers growing louder with each quick step he takes. He chuckles to himself lightly, reminded of the few times he got to man the Kiramman tent for Progress Day - this doesn’t feel all that different, if he really thinks about it. After all, he still wants people to look at his inventions and to like them enough to buy them, to remember them, to remember him . 

The only difference is the part of the city he’s in.

The memory of the Kiramman tent pulls a familiar face to the forefront of his mind. Caitlyn. He wonders how she’s doing now, if she’s still failing Maths in school and if she still likes Seraphine’s music even if the other girls in her class think it’s a childish interest to have. He wonders if she thinks fondly about him sometimes, or if her mother has poisoned her memories of him.

Also a thought he’s had a few times over the past week, and he swallows away the familiar wave of bitterness at the reminder of how easily he’d been dropped from their graces- from Piltover’s graces. 

He shakes his head again, clearing his thoughts. It’s happened. It’s in the past, now. All he can do is try to build a new future here, in Zaun.

He’s nearly run down mid-step by a few kids at the edge of the market and he has to hop on one foot, boxes of toys teetering precariously in his arms, to keep his balance and keep from landing on his ass. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going, would you?” He shouts after the first few. He spots two girls, one older than the other, with pink and blue hair, running after a ball.

“Wait for me, Vi!” the younger one with the blue hair shouts. She’s nearly knocked over by an older, lanky kid. “Mylo!” Blue-hair yells, annoyed. 

The boy, Mylo, manages to get to the ball before she does, kicking it across the street to another boy, more heavy-set with goggles resting on his head. “Here, Claggor!”

Jayce shakes his head and is about to move on when a straggler catches his eye, a familiar shock of white hair passing right in front of his nose. He manages to snatch Ekko's collar, bringing him to a halt with one hand while balancing the boxes in his other. 

“Woah, kid, watch where y-” 

Ekko stops and spins around, raising his fists, ready to aim a punch at the person who caught him by the collar. His face relaxes when he sees it’s Jayce, rolling his eyes. “Benzo’s over that way,” he points to the other side of the market.

As Jayce’s eyes follow his finger, Ekko manages to wriggle out of his grip and he’s gone before Jayce knows it.

“That kid, man,” he mutters to himself, pushing his way through the throngs of people. Before long, he finds the familiar face in the crowd, sitting on a rickety chair behind a table made up of a few wooden crates.

“Hey,” Jayce greets him, finally setting the heavy weight down on the makeshift stall, stretching the ache out of his overburdened arms. “Thanks for letting me join you.”

Benzo rolls his eyes not unkindly. “You don’t have to thank me yet again, boy. The first ten times were more than enough.” He flips the lid off the top box Jayce had put down. “Don’t remember you having this much stuff to sell last time I saw you.”

Jayce shrugs, a blush creeping up his face as he rubs his neck. “Well I couldn’t sleep,” he lies, not wanting to sound like an overeager little kid, excited for his first day at the market. “Figured that, if I’m up, I might as well make some more toys.”

Benzo looks at him for a second, and something in his smile tells Jayce he can see right through his words. “Right. Well, don’t expect to sell everything today.”

“Of course not!” he answers, a bit too quickly. “I’d be happy if I sold anything at all.”

The man hums in assent. “Unpack a few things, then. I left you some space here,” he motions to the right side of the stall. “What’s your asking price?”

Another question Jayce has mulled over in his mind a million times the past few days. “Uh…” He sits down at the wooden stool Benzo has dragged out from behind him. “Well, I’m not sure.”

“Ah. Piltie’s got no idea what the people from down here can afford, right?” It’s clearly a joke, but it still stings a bit, reminding Jayce once again that he’s an outsider.

“Yeah, kind of. I was thinking ten coppers per piece?”

Benzo barks out a laugh. “ Ten?” He claps a jovial hand on Jayce’s shoulder, the other gesturing at the array of pieces now stalled out in front of him. “You can ask twenty, easily. If you know how to barter, you can even sell most of them for thirty.” He raises an eyebrow. “You do know how to barter, right?”

He most certainly does not. “Well…”

—

One exciting, though tiring morning later Jayce is through most of his inventory. Benzo did most of the haggling, given that Jayce is terrible at it, and while he’s not as obviously a Piltie as when he first arrived, the way he talks gives it away and people didn’t take kindly to him when they found out. No one cursed him out or spat at him, but he could see the disapproval in their eyes and the venom in their voice, and those times he wasn’t able to sell anything.

A few stragglers remain of his stock; a robot that doesn’t have the prettiest welding, a spinning top that’s slightly lopsided so it drifts as it spins, a trolley cart whose wheels aren’t aligned properly so it doesn’t roll as smoothly as it should. Still, things he can fix for the next market.

But his wallet is absolutely teeming with copper coins. And while that’s already a great feeling and a not-so-small relief - knowing that he can afford his next meal - there’s something else that makes his chest swell with pride.

Everywhere he looks around, he sees children playing. With his toys.

The two girls - Powder and Vi, as Jayce has learned - are seated on the edge of a wilted flower bed, eyes stuck on a spinning top on the tiles in front of them, watching it go round and round and round. Mylo and Claggor are each absorbed by two Blitzcranks, making them play-fight. Ekko is thoughtfully moving a small metal insect with whirring wings around, trying to figure out how it moves. And there are so many more.

He’s never seen his work spark this much joy before.

It’s a feeling he can definitely get used to.

The crowds have thinned out, and Jayce can now see the other marketeers better. He glances at them and their wares, trying to figure out if he needs anything at home and if he can buy it from one of them - he’s made quite a bit of money today, but that doesn’t mean he should spend it recklessly, and maybe there is some sort of marketeer’s discount that he can call upon. He sees a vastaya selling some engine oil, perhaps Jayce could buy some in case he finds a bigger machine to work on. And some fresh vegetables from that old lady wouldn’t be amiss in his kitchen- maybe some bread from that baker, if there’s still some left, and-

Oh.

It’s him.

His gaze has caught on to a familiar face, all sharp angles and dark shadows. A mop of unruly, brown hair and a full mouth that smiles softly as the last few customers are handed a bundle of dried herbs.

And those eyes. 

Those amber eyes that haven’t really left Jayce’s mind since he first saw them, ghosting in the edges of his thoughts for days on end now. That he has refused to acknowledge the entire time, trying not to dwell on them for too long, afraid of what it would say about him if he did. But that he has quietly treasured when he’s been on his own, during the small hours of the night when the entire world seems to be at a standstill, basking in their hue from the corners of his eye, like one might bask in the sun and fear the burn if they looked at it straight on.

And those amber eyes that are meeting his own.

Jayce startles, tearing his gaze away with an awkward clearing of his throat, shifting on the uncomfortable wooden stool. 

“Benzo?” He nudges the man, who looks up from packing his boxes. “Who’s that?”

Benzo peers at the other side of the market over his small, round glasses, then scoffs in Jayce’s face. “What do you mean, don’t you know him?” Jayce shakes his head. “You don’t know your own neighbours?”

Jayce huffs, about to tell the pawn shop owner that he doesn’t have any neighbours, the street he lives on is as dead as the rat he found in the back of the forge during a thorough clean. But then he realizes, as soon as Benzo says it.

“Why, that’s Viktor, the apothecary.” 

Jayce risks another glance at the golden-eyed man. He does look like an apothecary, sitting behind his stall, back straight, eyes somewhere in the middle distance. The plank of wood on two boxes in front of him is littered with herbs and those familiar jars Jayce has seen his customers leave with so many times. 

And yet, he’s nothing like Jayce expected at all. He’d thought the man in the shop across the street would’ve been old, bent and full of pretty words to convince his visitors that whatever he’d put in the lotions or creams or pills definitely did work and that he could work miracles if only they had patience and money. 

But this man, this golden-eyed, regal man, doesn’t look like he speaks much at all. He looks poised, at attention, and yet inviting. He exudes a sense of calm that, even from afar, washes over Jayce and lifts the headache that has begun to form behind his eyes throughout the morning.

And while he’d almost feared the memory of those eyes, careful not to burn himself on it, now he wants those eyes on him. Look at me, he wants to scream across the market. See me. 

As I see you.

“You should thank him, you know.” Benzo’s heavy voice pulls him out of his trance.

Jayce has to shake himself mentally, repeating what has just been said to him to actually grasp the words. “Thank him? For what?”

Benzo frowns at him. “God, you really are oblivious aren’t you?” he mutters under his breath. “He got you your stuff back! He realized it was Ekko that nabbed your things and went to me to sort it out. Without him you’d still be sitting in that miserable little workshop of yours, penniless.”

“Wait, really?” Jayce looks at the apothecary again - Viktor - and huffs out a half-laugh. “Wow. I do owe him.”

He feels a hard shove against his shoulder. “So go thank him!”

He blinks. “What- now?”

“Yes, now. When else?” Benzo shakes his head before fishing out a few copper coins. “You know what, go to the Last Drop around the corner. Tell the barman, Vander, that I sent you and get something to drink for Viktor. He never does take proper care of himself.”

“S- sure,” Jayce stammers, taking the coins and getting up. “I’ll do that.”

Something like anticipation and nervousness coils in his stomach and as he follows Benzo’s pointed finger towards the Last Drop, he dares steal one last look of Viktor. 

And meets golden eyes.

—

Vander had seemed like a nice enough guy at first glance, though that changed when Jayce opened his mouth and his accent had slipped out, betraying him as Topside.

Vander had stiffened a bit before pouring the requested drinks, shoving them in Jayce’s direction afterwards. 

“Do yourself a favor, kid,” he’d said, voice gruff. “Go home. You don’t belong here.”

It’s nothing Jayce hadn’t heard before at the market or during his walks through Zaun, but it still made something ugly and desperate curl in his chest. It wasn’t just that Vander seemed like a good guy, but he was Benzo’s friend, and secretly, Jayce had hoped that he’d be able to find one more friend in the barman.

“Wish I could,” he’d muttered, tossing the coins on the bar and picking up the cups. He’d felt eyes on him as he’d left.

Now, as Jayce walks out of the door and across the near-empty market, the coil in his stomach twists tighter and tighter with every step towards Viktor’s stall. A coil that erupts into butterflies as he catches sight of the man.

The ever-present clouds of the Undercity have parted for a bit, letting rare rays of sunlight shine through. Viktor is still sitting on his rickety chair, though now he has tilted his head back and closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun as it shines on his alabaster skin. This close, Jayce can make out a few moles speckled artfully across his face, one above his lips and another beneath his eye.

He doesn’t realize how close he’s gotten until the wood of the stall hits his thighs. He clears his throat awkwardly. 

One golden eye opens and peers up at him, the corners of his mouth turning downward slightly, annoyed at the interruption. “Yes?” His accent curls around that one word, sending a small shiver down Jayce’s spine.

He clears his throat again, a lump that won’t go away. “I uh… I got you a drink.” He hesitates. “To thank you,” he supplies lamely. “For getting Ekko to give me my stuff back.”

Viktor opens his eyes fully, the scowl making way for a hint of amusement. “Ah, yes. I remember you. The man covered in oil.”

Jayce chuckles awkwardly. “Yep, that’s me.”

The apothecary looks at him for another moment before lifting his eyebrows, eyes flicking down to the two cups Jayce is still holding.

“Right!” He quickly sets one down. “Here you go.”

“Thank you. Jayce, wasn’t it?” The way Viktor says his name makes him light headed for a second.

“Y-yes,” he stammers. “And you’re Viktor, right?”

“Indeed.” 

“The apothecary.”

“That would be me.” Viktor takes a long sip of his drink, sighing and leaning back, leaving Jayce standing there in uncomfortable silence.

He shifts from foot to foot. “So. Uh… Busy day? It was for me.”

Viktor moves his head from side to side. “Eh, I’ve had better.” He sighs softly, almost ruefully, eyeing the full boxes by his side before he finishes his drink. “I must get this back.”

Jayce starts for a second, remembering his own inventory sitting somewhere on the other side of the market - though he’s sure Benzo’s been keeping an eye on it. Or ordered Ekko to. In which case, Jayce must get back because the kid is so easily distractible. 

“Yeah, same. Better get home, it’s getting late.”

Viktor stands, one hand reaching for a cane that had been standing against his makeshift stall.

“How are you going to carry that stuff back home with only one hand?” The words are out of his mouth before he knows it and he has to hold back from hitting himself over the head.

He sees Viktor’s jaw clench slightly, golden eyes shifting away from him yet betraying a muted annoyance. “I’ll manage,” he says stiffly. “As I do every week.”

“Still,” Jayce says hesitantly. Get a grip of yourself, Talis. He takes a breath, gathering his nerves. “I could help. If you want.”

Viktor looks at him for a second, before deflating slightly. “Fine.” He almost seems reluctant, but Jayce can barely hold his excitement. Small victories, and all.

“Let me grab my stuff and we’ll go.”

—

The first few minutes transpire in relative quiet as they walk side by side. The hum of the mining machines and the vents fills the air around them, punctuated by their steps and the clacking of Viktor’s cane on the street. He keeps a respectable distance from the healer, shifting the load in his arms from time to time, trying not to accidentally bump their arms together. 

Still, he feels the small hairs in his nape stand up, the proximity to Viktor confusing his thoughts, making something nervous flutter in his chest.

He clears his throat. “So,” he begins lamely. “You like herbs, huh?” He groans internally. Great one, Talis. 

Viktor shrugs. “I suppose. They have their uses.” He steps around a puddle, nearly coming into contact with Jayce who has to hold his breath for a second to calm his thundering heart.

“I don’t really know what it means to be an apothecary,” Jayce admits. He glances at the boxes in his hands. “I’m assuming it has something to do with creams and ointments?”

Clack, clack, clack goes Viktor’s cane against the pavement as he ponders for a moment. “Yes. And herbs,” he looks sideway at Jayce, who chuckles awkwardly. “I use them to help those who are sick in any way that I can.”

“I’d say you’re pretty good at that.” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Everyone who leaves your shop seems quite a bit happier than when they entered.” He feels a rush of blood rising to his cheeks as he realizes what he’s just said. “Not- not that I’ve been watching, of course.”

The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitches in what could almost be a half-smile. “Of course.”

They’re nearing their street now, and Jayce feels a twinge of disappointment now that the end of their walk is in sight. “But how do you do it?” He asks absent-mindedly, trying to keep the conversation going.

Viktor looks at him, eyebrows knitting together.

“Help everyone, I mean,” he clarifies. “I mean, not even the best doctors in Piltover can make everyone happy, yet you manage.” He shrugs. “Just curious.”

Something in the air shifts as he feels Viktor stiffen beside him, the end of his cane hitting the ground harder than strictly necessary. “I am not a Piltovian doctor,” he snaps and Jayce freezes. “And I don’t think I like what you’re implying.” His steps speed up.

Jayce stands there for a moment, before jogging to catch up. His breath quickens as he starts to panic. “No! No, I’m not implying anything,” he hastens to say.

But isn't he? Hadn’t he been thinking, just a few days ago, how odd it was that everyone left Viktor’s shop happy, and how there must be something more going on than simple medicine to make that happen? Hadn’t he wondered if the healer was some sort of charlatan? A con man?

“I mean- I did think that, but that was before I met you!” He flinches as Viktor whirls around to look at him, golden eyes steely with anger, hands clenched around his cane. They’re but a few steps from the front doors of their respective shops. Wrong move, Talis.

He starts to stammer. “I- I’m sorry, I d-”

A jab of Viktors finger at him shuts his mouth. “I will not tolerate a fucking Piltie-” he spits the word like it leaves a disgusting taste on his tongue, “doubting my abilities as a healer. I don’t care what they do in your beloved Topside, and if you like it better there, then go back. ”

Jayce’s mouth hangs open, embarrassment and a hint of anger bubbling inside of him as Viktor turns around brusquely, jamming his key into the lock of his door and swinging it open. 

“Listen-” Jayce starts, desperation to solve this misunderstanding colouring his voice, but Viktor cuts him off again.

“You can put the boxes down, now.” His voice is hard and icy, leaving no room for any explanation or excuse. 

Jayce hangs his head in shame, putting Viktor’s supplies just inside the door. “I’m s-” 

“Thank you,” Viktor snaps sarcastically. “For stooping down from your golden tower to help a poor, crippled Zaunite.” Jayce gapes at him. “I appreciate your sacrifice.”

And with that, he slams his door shut, leaving Jayce alone in the street, mouth opening and closing in shock.

Oh, he’s really fucked it up, now. 

[klimkovsky]

Globular star cluster Messier 2

Messier 2 (M2), also known as NGC 7089, is a globular star cluster located in the constellation Aquarius. Here are some key details about M2:

Location: It is situated approximately 37,500 light-years away from Earth towards the center of our Milky Way galaxy.

Discovery: M2 was discovered by Jean-Dominique Maraldi in 1746, but it was Charles Messier who included it in his catalog in 1760 as the second entry (hence the designation M2).

Physical Characteristics:

Magnitude: M2 has an apparent visual magnitude of about 6.5, making it visible with binoculars under good conditions, though it appears as a faint smudge to the naked eye.

Size: It has an apparent diameter of about 16 arc minutes, but its true physical diameter is around 175 light-years.

Star Count: It contains hundreds of thousands of stars, with estimates suggesting around 150,000 to one million stars.

Age: Globular clusters like M2 are some of the oldest objects in the universe. M2 is estimated to be around 13 billion years old.

Composition: M2 is known for its high density of stars in the core, where stars are packed closely together. This cluster includes various types of stars, from red giants to blue stragglers, which are thought to be the result of stellar collisions or mergers within the dense environment.

Scientific Interest:

M2 has been studied extensively for insights into stellar evolution, particularly because of its variable stars like RR Lyrae variables, which are used as standard candles for measuring galactic distances.

Observations have included detailed studies with the Hubble Space Telescope, which has helped in understanding the dynamics of the stars within such densely packed regions.

Observation Tips: For those interested in observing M2:

Use a telescope with at least a 4-inch aperture for a better view; larger apertures will reveal more detail.

It's best seen in late summer or early autumn from the northern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere, it's visible during winter months.

M2 is not only a beautiful object to observe but also a treasure trove for astronomers studying stellar populations, dynamics within globular clusters, and the history of our galaxy.

Grok AI

In addition to what the neural network has said, it should be added that astronomers have not yet come to a consensus regarding the distance to the M2 cluster. Along with the estimate of 37.5 thousand light years, another value is no less persistently mentioned on the network — 55 thousand light years. This disagreement looks very similar to a banal error in converting miles to kilometers, although this could not happen in astronomy. In fact, the difference in the distance estimate is due to the use of different methods. The method of direct parallax measurement gives a smaller result, but at such a distance, parallax measurements are extremely unreliable. The method associated with the Cepheids and RR-Lyrids gives a larger distance to the cluster, although it cannot take into account the absorption of star light by the interstellar medium, and as a consequence — a drop in their brightness with distance, which near the plane of our Galaxy no longer obeys the inverse square relationship.

Does the truth lie somewhere in the middle — at the level of 46 thousand light years? — in this case it is hardly correct to assume such a solution as the most probable.

In addition, the shape of the M2 cluster is noticeably flattened, which indicates a fairly rapid axial rotation. This gives rise to the assumption that the globular star cluster Messier 2 in its distant past is the core of a dwarf galaxy that merged with other similar galaxies, forming our Milky Way galaxy in the first few billion years of the Universe's existence.

There is also a clarification regarding the age of the cluster — it is most likely somewhat younger than the AI assumed — not 13, but about 12.5 billion years. But according to the results of some studies, the age of the M2 cluster is estimated to be less than 12 billion years.

Globular star cluster Messier 2 by Hubble Space Telescope

[fullmoonfireball]

Olimar was dead, he knew that much. And yet, here he was.

He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a little ball and rot away, in the hopes his soul might get the chance to return to the stars, but he couldn't. The Pikmin needed him- even if he wished they didn't- and his limbs kept moving, dragging him and his squad forward.

It was already past noon, meaning he only had so much time to figure out what to do without the trusty S.S. Dolphin before sunset. With how badly she had been crashed, her frame reduced to a twisted heap of metal, there was no way he could fix her enough to fly to safety before night fell. And as much as he wished he was fully dead, being devoured by the native wildlife didn't sound appealing in the slightest.

Thankfully, he noticed, it seemed the Pikmin had no interest listening to his internal monologue at the moment, or else they surely would've erupted into screams and cries at such a thought as Leader being eaten. No, instead they were busy singing amongst themselves. The melody and rhythm were simple, but the lyrics... Maybe his stem wasn't as good at translating as he initially thought. Something about love? Or angels? He shook his head. There was no point in getting caught up on the tune, not when the fact he didn't understand them meant he wasn't a Pikmin, and especially not when there were things to do... Or so he would've thought, if something about the tune didn't make him think of sweet smells, like those of the berries his dear wife tended to in their backyard...

Olimar stopped in his tracks. A few of the less attentive Pikmin bumped into his back, and the singing stopped. He was hungry. He almost wanted to smile. Maybe he wasn't quite as dead as he thought if his digestive system still worked. Of course, that almost-joy was short lived. They'd been walking for a couple hours now- going back to the Dolphin's wreck to fish out some instant space noodles would be a fool's errand even if he wasn't sick of eating them, which meant...

The air filled with various buzzes, and Olimar could physically feel the Pikmin's excitement. Their Leader had an actual, material task to do. Olimar took a deep breath and whistled. The buzzing quieted as the Pikmin stood at attention, and Moss, who had been at the back of the group making sure there were no stragglers, rushed to his side. He climbed up on her back, and the Pikmin followed.

"You think you can sniff out a tasty creature?" he cooed. She sniffed at the ground around her before letting out an affirmative bark, rushing forward in a new direction. Moss had presumably lived here for her entire life, she had to know what was and wasn't edible, right?

Olimar couldn't help but turn to look behind him. Moss's leaf-tipped tail blended in perfectly with the stems of the Pikmin clinging to her back, only distinguished by its teal colour. If it was just a bit less green, it would look exactly like the stems the blue Pikmin. One of his hands strayed to his own stem, tugging it down in front of his face. Its shade of red matched perfectly with his gloves, a bit darker than that of the red Pikmin. He grimaced and let it go, turning forwards once more. Olimar gripped harder onto Moss's fur. He shouldn't dwell on such thoughts. He should be planning how to prepare the meal, or where they would go tonight... Perhaps a cave would work. It definitely wouldn't be as safe as the sky, but the natural darkness the creatures were accustomed to down there would mean they were less likely to go into a frenzy. Yes, they could clear out an area near the cave's exit to wait for the sun to rise again. And with how strangely time worked down there, he could sleep for however long he needed... Oh, how nice that would be...

It wasn't much longer until Moss screeched to a halt, a safe distance from a sleeping Bulborb with three Dwarf Bulborbs. Considering how many Pikmin the creatures had eaten, it only seemed fair that he should get to eat one of them. He reached behind him to grab a Pikmin, and readied himself to throw, considering his targets carefully. The 'mother' Bulborb would keep him fed for a few days, but going after her would require taking out the Dwarf Bulborbs first, not to mention the higher risk of losing Pikmin... One of the small ones would be far more efficient to go for. He'd have to go hunting again tomorrow, but there would be less meat wasted and it would be far easier to take out.

Olimar hopped off Moss's back, Pikmin still in hand. He gestured with his free hand for the rest to stay up there.

"Hey!" he called, not quite loud enough to wake the Bulborb, waving his arms. One of the Dwarf Bulborbs jumped, now alerted to his presence. It approached him, straying from the safety of the group in the hopes of getting a tasty Pikmin snack. He threw the Pikmin, and BAM! With one well-placed hit to the top, it was down, the others none the wiser.

"I need two more of you to help carry it," he instructed, looking over his shoulder. "Doesn't matter who, it's not for the Onion. I'll lead you to where it needs to be."

The Pikmin tilted their heads to the side, but a pair obediently slid off Moss's back to carry the corpse. Now all they needed to do was find a cave, and they would be set for the night.

Thankfully, caves were plentiful on this strange planet, so it didn't take too much more walking to find one.

"There's our home for tonight," Olimar mused, leaning over the opening.

The Pikmin stared at him. While they didn't say a word, he could feel their confusion and, even more, their trust. We don't know what you're doing, but we'll follow you anyways.

"Come on." He took hold of the body. "I'll help you carry it down."

The three of them looked a bit uneasy about taking it down so far, but they nodded. Anything for you. He could feel a stinging at his eyes. Sunset was coming fast, he didn't have the time to cry. He stepped with them towards the opening, helping the Pikmin over the lip, before falling down, down, down with them.

Every time, it was such a strange sensation, falling so far, and yet barely even being bruised once he hit the ground. Terrifying yet harmless, truly a testament to this planet's lower gravity. It seemed like the Pikmin shared that opinion, having squealed and screamed all the way down. He'd only just stood back up when Moss and the rest of the Pikmin landed down beside him.

"Alright, let's keep moving." He climbed up on her back. Maybe he didn't need to be in any rush, but there wasn't any need to waste time either.

The group snuck their way past the cave's creatures, doing their best not to disturb them or let them get to the Pikmin carrying the Dwarf Bulborb.

The first level didn't have what he needed. How unfortunate. But if they had to go further anyways, they might as well. The Pikmin were a little less hesitant to drop down while carrying the body the second time, but they let out a pleading little squeak as they lifted it up. Olimar sighed and hopped off Moss's back. It really shouldn't have been a surprise they could get to his soft spots so easily...

"There you go," he cooed, helping them over the lip. Their squeals as they fell seemed a bit less scared and more excited this time. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. They were so much like Shiyo when he was little... Crying about facing something new, only to immediately try to put on a brave face.

It was only when Moss finally hopped down after them that he realized how caught up he'd gotten in his own thoughts. He vaulted over the ledge of the opening, going down after them.

"Leader!" the Pikmin squeaked. "We thought you weren't coming!"

"I'm sorry for worrying you all." He patted the nearest Pikmin's heads. "I just zoned out a bit."

"What's a Shiyo?" One tilted their head.

Right. Even his own thoughts weren't entirely private anymore. "It's... It's not important. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Okay!" It beamed. "Yay!"

Olimar shook his head. What funny little creatures they were. He got back up on Moss's back, ready to continue their little mission.

It didn't take much longer until they came across exactly what he was looking for: A Fiery Blowhog. Perfect.

"Blue. Yellow. Drop it. More reds, get on."

They gave him a strange look, but obeyed anyways.

"Alright, now only you follow me." He marched out in front of the creature, the three Pikmin in tow. The Blowhog reared back, and spewed a stream of fire at the Pikmin and their charge.

"SPIN!"

While disoriented by the jet of flame, they obeyed, rotating the body in place. Soon enough, the Blowhog's blast stopped. The Dwarf Bulborb looked charred, but not too bad. Definitely edible! He let out a triumphant cheer... and the Fiery Blowhog snorted, turning towards him.

"Get back to Moss and the others!" he yelled. "I'll be fine!"

The Pikmin hurried off, and he gulped. There was no way he was suddenly flameproof, despite the red stem. The Blowhog reared back. Olimar ran, the flames hot on his heels. What awful planning, of course creatures would be more interested in him now, with that sprout he probably looked like a large Pikmin! He should've thought of an escape route...

Thankfully, the beast had no interest in pursuing Olimar much further, allowing him to reconvene with Moss and the Pikmin once he regained his bearings.

"Leader!!!" squealed the Pikmin, scrambling up and wrapping their roots around him. Just like his princess, Jiday, would whenever he got home from a long stint of work... He could feel himself tremble.

No Olimar, you still have things to do, he reminded himself. Daylight might not be a factor right now, but you have to eat. You have to eat. Once you've eaten, your tasks are done.

Wordlessly, the group made their way to the exit hole of the cave. Olimar peered up. He could make out stars against the darkened sky, even if only faintly.

He heaved a sigh. "Alright, this is our site." He sat down on the ground. "We'll know it's safe to leave once we see light coming from up there."

The Pikmin looked uneasy. "Leader is sure about this?"

He nodded. "We'll be safe down here as long as we stay out of the way of any creatures. They're used to darkness down here, so nightfall shouldn't make them act any different. If any do come to bother us, Moss and I will handle them."

A chorus of "Thank you, Leader!"s came from the squad, some of them nuzzling up to him.

"Ah... You're welcome. Do you mind giving me a bit of space?" He groped at his spacesuit's compartments, before coming up with a multitool he'd stashed away who-knows-when. He flicked out its knife, and the Pikmin stared, intrigued. "I'm just going to eat the Bulborb." A few of them straightened up, rushing to grab the body and bring it to Olimar. He muttered a thank you, and plunged the knife in. The Pikmin were transfixed.

With some force, he managed to cut a leg off. From there, he removed the skin from the thigh. The meat was a horrible grey-brown. He gulped. At least it wasn't raw. When he bit in, the meat was dry, flavourless, and somehow still squishy... but stars above, when compared to weeks of nothing but instant space noodles, it was delicious.

He ate and ate until he was well and truly full. Goodness, did it ever feel good to be full. Moss happily took whatever scraps he didn't eat, leaving nothing but a few sinewy scraps, unappealing organs, and bones. He stretched. The Pikmin were still staring at him expectantly.

"That's all for today. I'm going to bed."

"Seeds?" a particularly bold Pikmin blurted out.

"Hm? No, I can't make seeds without an Onion, as far as I know." They nodded amongst each other.

"Only Home-Onion makes seeds. Leader isn't Home, so it doesn't make seeds," could be made out from the babble. He grimaced to himself.

"Well, unless any of you have any more tasks we need to do tonight, we're going to sleep." Olimar leaned up against Moss, who had taken to gnawing on one of the Dwarf Bulborb's femurs. Being able to feel her fur for once was nice, even if it was a bit coarse. How he wished he could've given her a nice, cushy life on Hocotate. A better diet would surely soften her coat up, just like it did for Bulbie...

He was snapped out of that line of thought by the tens of Pikmin crawling up onto him, a dense blanket of squirming roots as they tried to find the most comfortable folds of his spacesuit to cling on to.

They looked up at him with wet little eyes. "Doesn't Leader want to nest?" Great, now he felt guilty for being startled.

"Yes, of course," he sighed, spreading his arms a bit to give them more surface area. "Please get comfortable." Thankfully, he could still make out the opening from this position, since it didn't seem like he'd be moving any time soon. He shifted in place a little, trying to take his own advice, and closed his eyes.

"Isn't it comfortable?" one Pikmin whispered. They opened right back up, but the Pikmin didn't seem to notice.

"Soft and firm," another's voice. "Just like Leader!"

"Its belly is the best!"

"Stop calling me an 'it'," Olimar grumbled. 'It' probably wasn't actually what they were saying, but he was too tired to distinguish between that reality and what he could hear.

At that, the Pikmin began to babble amongst themselves unsurreptitiously. He couldn't make out the exact words, but their confusion was plenty clear.

Eventually, one spoke up, "if Leader isn't 'it', what is Leader?"

"Olimar," he groaned. "Please just call me Olimar, not Leader, and I'm not an 'it', I'm a 'he'."

"What is a 'he'?" Their eyes were wide with curiosity, he couldn't stay mad.

"Well, most creatures don't reproduce like you do. They don't have Onions to produce seeds for them, they create them themselves, with the help of another individual of their species. And to distinguish between the roles they play in reproduction, we use the pronouns 'he' and 'she'."

The Pikmin stared, begging him to elaborate. He supposed it was just cruel fate that he should have this talk with an alien species before- no, instead of with his own children...

"Alright, get off, we're not sleeping yet," Olimar ordered, squirming in place. "I'll need my arms to help explain this." The Pikmin excitedly obeyed.

"In species like my own, one individual provides one half of the 'seed', and another provides the other. When they reproduce, the full seed grows within one of them." He scratched a pair of figures into the dirt. "The one who grows the seed is a 'she', and the other is a 'he'."

The Pikmin erupted into babble once more, eagerly discussing this little lesson.

"If Leader-Olimar is he, is creature-Moss also he?" a yellow Pikmin asked, pointing at Moss. It looked particularly excited about being able to come to this conclusion.

"Ah, no, but good guess." He shook his head. "Moss is a 'she'. The way her body is indicates that she would be the one to grow the seed, or- more likely- seeds."

"How does Leader-Olimar know?" a red Pikmin interjected. "Leader-Olimar and creature-Moss aren't the same."

"Could be!" another one chimed in. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what it meant by that.

"There are creatures very similar to Moss back where I'm from. We call them dogs, and they follow similar patterns of reproduction to my species. From what I've seen, Moss is very much the same."

"Dog. Dog. Dog? Dog. Dog! Dog," came the murmur of the squad as they tried out the word.

"But how can Olimar tell?" the red Pikmin from before questioned.

"Their external organs are-"

"But organs are inside-meat?"

"Not necessarily. Things like eyes or skin are external organs, and-" He had went to pinch his cheek as an example, but whatever he'd grabbed certainly wasn't his skin. He tugged a little. It felt as though he'd grabbed a chunk of hair instead, though a bit more concentrated somehow. "... I don't want to know what I look like right now, do I," he muttered.

"Leader looks safe!" a Pikmin immediately answered.

"Leader-Olimar!" another corrected.

"Leader-Olimar looks alive!" one more chirped.

"Alive and safe! Safe and alive!" the group chanted.

None of those cleared anything up, but that was probably for the best. He sighed and continued. "Anyways, external organs can be used for reproduction. Usually you can tell because the 'he' organs stick out, while 'she' organs go in, a bit like a gill."

This caused yet more confusion amongst the Pikmin. He was sure he could make out a few blue Pikmin confusedly asking if they were 'she's, and while he was prepared to answer that with a 'if you want to be, yes', he wasn't quite prepared for what they actually came forward to say.

"She," they said in unison, all pointing their roots towards Olimar.

"What?"

"Leader-Olimar and creature-Moss have inside bits!" A few of the Pikmin began to dance around, quite pleased with their deduction. "Moss is she, so Olimar is she!"

"No, that's not..." He slumped his shoulders. This was better than getting called 'it' all the time, and it would be a waste of time to keep bashing against this brick wall. "...Sure. Let's go to sleep now."

"Leader-Olimar is so smart," a few Pikmin hummed as they wriggled back into position. "She is such a good leader!"

Olimar sighed to himself. At least someone thought he was doing well. He looked up to the cave's exit, where he could make out the night sky, pinpricked by stars. He couldn't hold back any longer. Those very stars blurred away, his eyes overflowing with tears.

At first, he'd thought it strange, almost cruel, that this planet's sun should completely drown out every other visible star during the day, that he should only get the faintest chance of catching a vague glimpse of Hocotate in the dead of night, utterly unrecognizable from this distance. But now, it seemed like a necessary evil. He should only mourn the home he would never see again when there was nothing more important to do.

"Chipi, dear, I hope you'll be able to forgive me," were the last words out of his mouth before he fell asleep.

[sparkys-blog-of-things]

CORN YAOI / SWEEPING STAR SHIP KIDS RAAAGHH!!!

Waited for me and my silly to finish UT Yellow before posting these sillies!!! I'm so excited to share them both w/ you all!!

The first one I designed is Bea - the younger sibling! (She/Her)

Since she looks more like Starlo, I decided her name would be based off the classification of vampire stars - B[e] stars

She takes after Starlo more too - growing up to be more interested in the whole cowboy thing

Her pseudonym is Azure Straggler (Blue Stragglers are a type of vampire star!)

Next is the older sibling, Mavnos (Mah-v-nohs) - Nos for short (They/Them)

Mavnos looks more like Dalv so I tried to make a name that fit Dalv's naming convention (Dalv being Vlad backwards)! Mavnos's name can be separated into two parts - Mav and Nos. Mav is the beginning of Vampire (Vam) backwards and Nos is the beginning of Nosferatu! Similar to Dalv, Nos enjoys playing instruments - specifically the violin!

Their pseudonym is Nocturne (Vampire + Classical Music piece theme :])

Here are some other miscellaneous doodles of the sillies!!

[cyllres]

Devil | JJK x Makima! Reader

Chapter 17

“I'm back~” Satoru called out as he happily plopped down next to Megumi, who barely hid his irritation, his brow furrowing as he watched his carefree teacher.

“Where's Y/n?” Megumi asked, glancing around, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of you.

“Who knows?” Satoru replied nonchalantly, setting down the black husky he had been carrying. The dog’s fur gleamed under the sunlight, its eyes sparkling with excitement. “Anyway, Megumi-chan, meet Sugar!” he said enthusiastically, introducing the dog, which barked in response, its tail wagging furiously as it padded around on the grassy field.

“So childish,” Megumi scowled, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of the overly excited dog. He sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction, unable to fully suppress a slight twitch at the corners of his lips.

Suddenly, a commotion caught their attention. A flock of crows began to circle the area, specifically right in front of them, their wings flapping in unison, creating a vortex-like effect. They flew around rapidly, almost mimicking a tornado. The air was filled with the sound of their cawing, and the flurry of black feathers blurred into a spinning shadow.

Megumi's instincts kicked in, and he quickly stood, ready to summon his demon dogs, suspecting a potential curse, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.

Just as he was about to act, you emerged from the center of the swirling crows, a serene smile on your face. The crows dissipated almost immediately, a few stragglers flying off into the sky, their formation breaking apart like ink dispersed in water. Your yellow eyes with their eerie red rings gleamed with amusement as you stepped forward, your movements fluid and unhurried.

“Fushiguro-san, Gojo-sensei,” you greeted them with a calm smile. “I'm back.”

The husky, Sugar, bounded toward you, jumping up with joy. You knelt down, welcoming the dog with open arms, rubbing its ears affectionately. The dog's excitement was infectious, and for a moment, the intense atmosphere lightened.

“You had me worried for a second there,” Megumi muttered, relaxing his stance but still eyeing the dispersing crows. His eyes held a mixture of annoyance and relief, his trust in your unpredictable nature still uneasy.

“Just a little training exercise,” you said, your eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Your tone was light, almost teasing, as you straightened up, brushing off your uniform with a nonchalant flick of your wrist.

“Show-off,” Megumi grumbled, though there was a hint of relief in his voice. He crossed his arms, trying to maintain his stoic demeanor despite the chaos you’d just created. His eyes, however, betrayed a flicker of grudging admiration for your flair.

Satoru chuckled, clearly amused by the whole spectacle. “Always the dramatic entrance, Y/n-chan. You really know how to make an impression.” His blue eyes sparkled with laughter, and he leaned back casually, as if enjoying a show. “Though, the use of crows reminded me of a very strong girl just like you!”

You laughed lightly, standing up and brushing off your clothes. “Had to keep things interesting.” There was a playful glint in your eyes as you spoke, your smile widening at the sight of Megumi’s exasperated expression.

Suddenly, a curse burst out of the building behind them, a grotesque creature with elongated limbs and a face twisted in agony. The three of you looked up, immediately alert. Reacting quickly, you pointed your index finger at it, ready to exercise it with a single word.

“Not yet,” Satoru said, making you pause. His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp and focused on the curse. A moment later, sharp, large nails protruded from the curse's body, causing it to disintegrate into a cloud of dark smoke. “Nice,” Satoru added with a nod of approval. “She’s crazy alright,” he remarked, referring to Nobara.

-

“Do you know I get into a foul mood when I'm hungry?” Nobara said impatiently, tapping her foot on the cracked pavement. She sat on the stairs just outside the abandoned building, the setting sun casting long shadows across the deserted street. Yuuji only sighed in response, his hands resting behind his head as he tried to find some amusement in their situation. You, however, were entirely absorbed in petting the dog in front of you, its soft fur a comforting distraction from Nobara's grumbling.

“Good Joseph!” A voice suddenly broke the moment's stillness. “We made sure the kid got home safely,” Satoru added as he and Megumi approached, their figures outlined against the fading light. “Now, shall we get some food?” Satoru suggested with a bright grin, his eyes hidden behind his signature blindfold but his enthusiasm unmistakable.

“Steak!” Yuuji said, his face lighting up with excitement. He practically bounced on his feet, clearly already imagining the sizzling meat.

“Sushi!” Nobara chimed in, her earlier irritation evaporating as quickly as it had come. The prospect of food had a magical effect on her mood, and she shared Yuuji’s enthusiasm with a broad smile.

“Leave it all to me.” Satoru shared their excitement, clapping his hands together in anticipation. His usually laid-back demeanor took on an almost childlike eagerness at the mention of a meal.

“And you, Y/n?” Satoru turned to you, his head tilted in curiosity. You dusted off your clothes as you stood up, giving a moment’s thought to your answer.

“Hmm, maybe toast with butter and jam?...” You began, your voice thoughtful. “Salad, coffee… and maybe dessert?” You trailed off, your eyes briefly meeting Satoru's before you smiled faintly. He nodded at your simple but refined choice.

“And you, Megumi?” Satoru asked, glancing at the black-haired boy who was preoccupied with his phone, his fingers tapping away at the screen. Megumi barely looked up, engrossed in whatever he was reading. Satoru deadpanned at this lack of enthusiasm but shrugged it off as he began to walk away, placing his hands on Yuuji’s and Nobara’s backs to guide them along. “Okay, let's go.”

You followed along, but your brother Yuuji offered you his hand in a common gesture of affection. You hesitated for a moment, a flicker of the recent argument passing through your mind, before you declined gently, brushing past him with a nod.

“Oh, I forgot about my biggest haul of the day,” Nobara muttered, suddenly remembering the shopping bags she had left in one of the rentable lockers back in Harajuku. “Hey, you go fetch my things,” she said, pointing imperiously at Yuuji.

“Huh? Why should I do it?” Yuuji protested, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “I thought we’re even?”

“We won thanks to my curse energy. Got a problem with that?” Nobara countered, her hands on her hips and a defiant glint in her eyes.

“What about my raw strength?” Yuuji shot back, his tone indignant.

“Oh, you mean the power from eating that weird shit?” Nobara retorted, referring to the cursed object Yuuji had ingested. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

“It’s not just that! Right, Fushiguro?” Yuuji added, glancing back at Megumi, hoping for some support. Megumi, who walked beside you right behind Satoru, seemed lost in thought, his gaze distant.

“Huh? What’s wrong, Fushiguro?” Yuuji asked, noticing his friend’s mood.

“He’s pouting because he didn’t get to join in,” Satoru teased, glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smile.

“What a child!” Nobara added, her laughter ringing out in the evening air. Yuuji joined in, his earlier annoyance fading as he chuckled at the playful banter.

You glanced at your brother, your heart softening momentarily. Despite the lingering annoyance from the argument a few days ago and the reckless decision he had made, seeing him laugh brought a faint smile to your lips. Noticing your attention, Yuuji’s smile widened, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. But you quickly looked away, your focus shifting back to Sugar, who trotted happily by your side.

“Imouto-chan, what’s the dog’s name?” Yuuji asked, falling into step beside you. His voice was gentle, and despite the tension between you, there was a warmth in his tone that made it hard to stay angry.

“Sugar,” you answered softly, your fingers running through the dog's fur. “He’s the dog Satoru got for me.” The affection in your voice was evident as you looked down at Sugar, whose wagging tail seemed to mirror your own subtle happiness.

-

You glanced at the detention center, the imposing structure looming under the gray, overcast sky. The scent of rain mingled with the musty smell of the old building. Standing right next to Nobara, you held an umbrella for the both of you, the raindrops pattering gently against its surface. The cool, damp air sent a slight shiver down your spine as you listened to Ijichi's briefing.

“Our window verified the curse womb three hours ago,” Ijichi explained, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. “Once 90% of the detainees were successfully evacuated, they made the call to seal off the center. Citizens within a 500-meter radius have been evacuated as well.”

You could feel Nobara tense beside you. The usually brash and fearless girl was showing signs of the seriousness of the mission.

“Ijichi-san, question. What is a ‘window’ here?” Yuuji asked, raising his hand in a gesture reminiscent of a school classroom, his curiosity piqued despite the ominous circumstances.

“A window is a member of Jujutsu Tech who can see curses. They are not sorcerers though,” Ijichi explained patiently.

“Oh, okay,” Yuuji nodded, absorbing the information with a thoughtful expression. His demeanor was a stark contrast to the grim tension that hung in the air.

“Ijichi-san, am I getting Pochita right after this mission?” you interjected, breaking the somber mood for a brief moment. Your voice carried a hint of impatience.

Ijichi glanced at you. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Now, let's continue. Detainee Block 2. At present, five detainees remain there with the curse womb. If this curse womb is the type that metamorphoses, we predict it will become a special-grade cursed spirit.” The weight of his words made both Megumi and Nobara stiffen, their expressions growing more serious.

“Hey, so… I still don't really understand what ‘special grade’ means,” Yuuji admitted, scratching his head in confusion. Nobara let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes at his apparent lack of understanding.

“Then allow me to explain it so even idiots can understand,” Ijichi began, his tone taking on a slightly condescending edge. “First, there's grade four. A wooden bat is enough for them. Grade 3, if you have a handgun you can rest easy. Grade 2, it'll be a close call with a shotgun. Grade 1, even a tank may be insufficient. Then there’s Special-Grade. Let’s say you might be on even footing if you carpet bomb it with cluster bombs.” The vivid imagery of Ijichi’s explanation made Yuuji’s eyes widen in alarm.

“That’s real bad!” Yuuji exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch as he grasped the severity of the situation.

“Normally, a jujutsu sorcerer on par with the curse spirit would take on the mission. On a day like this, that would be Gojo-sensei,” Megumi interjected, his voice cutting through the tension. You and Yuuji glanced at him, both of you recognizing the underlying anxiety in his words.

“I see. So where’s Gojo-sensei?” Yuuji asked, looking around as if expecting their teacher to materialize out of thin air.

“Away on business,” Megumi answered with a hint of frustration, making Yuuji let out a disappointed ‘huh.’ “He’s not someone who should be loafing around at the school in the first place.”

“Unfortunately, we’re constantly shorthanded in this business,” Ijichi explained, a weary resignation in his voice. “You’ll often have to undertake missions beyond your power. The current case, however, is an abnormal one and the most urgent. Do not fight under any circumstances. If you encounter a special grade, your options are either to run or die. Please, just listen to your fears. Do not forget that your mission here is strictly the verification and rescue of survivors.” His stern warning made both Nobara and Yuuji stiffen, their earlier bravado replaced by a sobering realization of the danger ahead.

“Excuse me!” A voice suddenly interrupted, cutting through the tense atmosphere. The five of you glanced back to see a distraught woman, her eyes wide with panic. “Excuse me, where’s Tadashi?” she pleaded, her voice breaking. As the other managers tried to restrain her, she cried out again, “Is Tadashi… Is my son Tadashi all right?” Yuuji’s eyes softened, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a deep empathy for the mother’s anguish.

Ijichi stepped forward, his expression still stern as he approached the woman. “She’s a guardian who was here for a visit,” he explained to the group before addressing the woman directly. “Please step away. There is a possibility that someone has spread poisonous gas throughout the center.” His words were calm and measured, masking the true horror of the situation inside the building. “We cannot share any more details at this time.” As he spoke, the woman’s face crumpled, and she fell to her knees, her sobs echoing through the deserted street.

“N/n, Fushiguro, Kugisaki. We’re gonna save them!” Yuuji declared, his voice full of determination and a new-found resolve. The fire in his eyes was unmistakable, a sharp contrast to the earlier confusion.

“Of course we are!” Nobara answered, her own resolve hardening.

-

Kape?

[camilla-mikaelson]

The Moon Necklace Scenario.

(TBH I had Chat GPT help me write this lmao.)

The night was warm, the salty sea breeze rolling off the waves, whispering through the towering oaks and Spanish moss that framed the edge of Figure Eight. The party at Tannyhill had died down, leaving only a few lingering stragglers drunk on expensive whiskey and summer mischief. But I wasn’t interested in the party — not tonight.

I stood near the dock, arms crossed, the soft pink silk of my dress catching the moonlight. My blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded over her shoulders, a stark contrast to the deep blue sky behind me. I should’ve been inside, drinking, laughing, stealing the spotlight like I always did. Instead, I was here, waiting.

For him.

Rafe Cameron.

I hated that he could make me wait. Hated that I cared. Hated that after all the sneering insults, the heated arguments, and the constant push and pull between them, I’d let myself fall. Hard.

“Didn’t think you were the type to take orders, Maybank,” Rafe’s voice came from behind me, low and teasing.

I rolled my eyes before turning to face him. He stood a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his jeans, his usual cocky smirk tugging at his lips. His hair was messier than usual, his shirt slightly unbuttoned like he’d just thrown it on in a hurry.

“Please,” I scoffed, flipping my hair. “You wish I took orders from you.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “You do when it counts”

I arched a perfectly sculpted brow, arms crossing over my chest as I tilted my head at him. “Oh yeah? And when exactly would that be, Cameron?”

Rafe didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me, his smirk fading into something softer — something that made my stomach twist in a way I refused to acknowledge. The weight of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine, but I held firm, refusing to be the first to break.

Then, without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between us.

“What’s this?” I asked, glancing down as he unfolded his fingers to reveal a delicate silver necklace. Dangling from the chain was a crescent moon, the metal catching the moonlight just enough to make it shimmer.

My breath caught in my throat, but I forced myself to scoff. “You rob a jewelry store or something?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, cause that’s exactly what I did.” His voice was dry, but there was something else beneath it — something careful. He hesitated for only a second before taking my hand, placing the necklace in my palm.

I stared at it, the cool metal pressing against my skin. “Rafe…”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before speaking. “Look, I know we can’t always be together,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “People talk, and we both know we don’t exactly fit the whole picture-perfect Outer Banks bullshit.”

I swallowed, refusing to let his words affect me, but it was hard when he was looking at me like that — like I actually mattered.

“But whenever we’re not together,” he continued, eyes locking onto mine, “just look up at the stars.” He tapped the moon charm in my hand. “No matter where you are, I’ll always be with you.”

My throat tightened, and I hated it.

I hated how much he meant it.

I was used to guys wanting my attention, saying whatever they needed just to get a reaction out of me. But this? This wasn’t some smooth-talking, manipulative bullshit. Rafe wasn’t just trying to get under my skin — he was already there.

I ran my fingers over the moon pendant, my nails grazing the cool metal as I tried to find the right words, something sarcastic, something dismissive — something that wouldn’t make me feel so damn vulnerable.

But nothing came.

Rafe must’ve noticed because his smirk was completely gone now. In its place was something more serious, more real. “You don’t have to say anything, Maybank,” he murmured, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Just… take it.”

I should’ve shoved it back in his hand, rolled my eyes, and told him not to get all sentimental on me. That would’ve been the easy thing, the Ivory Maybank thing to do.

Instead, I unclasped the necklace and fastened it around my neck.

Rafe’s eyes flickered to the charm now resting against my collarbone, and something in his expression shifted. There was a hint of satisfaction there, like he was proud, like he was claiming some small piece of me, even if no one else knew it.

“Looks good on you,” he said, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips again.

I scoffed, my confidence snapping back into place as I tilted my chin up. “Obviously. Everything looks good on me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, but there was something warm in his gaze as he watched me, like he saw past the walls I kept up, past the attitude, past everything. And that scared the hell out of me.

I sighed dramatically, flipping my hair over my shoulder. “You better not get soft on me, Cameron. Would hate to ruin your whole ‘reckless asshole’ reputation.”

Rafe smirked, tilting his head as he watched me. “Oh, don’t worry, Maybank. I’m still an asshole.” He leaned in just enough that I could smell the faint scent of cologne and saltwater on his skin. “Just your asshole.”

My breath caught in my throat, but I refused to let him see how much that affected me. Instead, I rolled my eyes, even as my heart slammed against my ribs. “You wish.”

He chuckled, reaching up to toy with the moon pendant resting against my collarbone, his fingers brushing against my skin for just a second too long. “You’re wearing it,” he pointed out, voice smug but softer than usual.

I huffed, crossing my arms like it was no big deal. “Yeah, well, would’ve been rude to throw it in the ocean.”

Rafe grinned. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

We stood there for a moment, the party still going on in the distance, music and laughter spilling from the house. But here, by the dock, under the glow of the stars and the moonlight reflecting off the water, it was just us. No Kooks. No Pogues. No reputation to uphold.

Just us.

Rafe exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at me again. “So, what now?”

I smirked. “Well, I’d say we could go back to the party and pretend none of this happened but we both know that’s not gonna happen.”

Rafe raised a brow, amused. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

I stepped closer, tilting my chin up, the moon pendant resting just above the dip of my collarbone. “Because you just gave me a necklace, Cameron. That’s practically a confession.”

His smirk didn’t waver, but there was something in his eyes — something dangerous, something intoxicating. “And if it was?”

I should’ve laughed it off, played it cool. But the warmth of the pendant against my skin, the way he was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world worth paying attention to — it made it impossible.

My voice was quieter when I finally spoke. “Then I’d say we’re both screwed.”

Rafe exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, no shit.”

We were.

Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to hate each other. We were supposed to be on opposite sides of the island, opposite sides of everything.

And yet —

He reached out, fingers brushing against the necklace, barely grazing my skin. “For the record,” he murmured, “I meant what I said.”

I swallowed, my usual quick comebacks failing me. “About what?”

Rafe met my gaze, his voice steady. “Whenever you look up at the stars.” His thumb brushed over the pendant. “You’ll know I’m with you.”

I hated how much that got to me. Hated how real it sounded.

But instead of pushing him away, instead of making a joke or rolling my eyes — I let him pull me in.

Just this once.

Rafe’s hand slid to the side of my neck, his fingers grazing my jaw, his touch warm despite the cool night air. I should’ve pulled away, should’ve thrown out some sarcastic remark just to put distance between us. But I didn’t.

Because for once, I didn’t want to fight it.

The space between us disappeared as Rafe leaned in, his breath fanning across my lips. It wasn’t rushed or desperate — it was careful, almost like he was waiting for me to stop him. But I didn’t.

I let myself fall.

When our lips met, it wasn’t like the heated, anger-fueled moments we’d shared in the past — the ones that started with an argument and ended with me shoving him away before we both lost control.

No, this was different.

It was slow, deliberate, like neither of us wanted to admit how much we’d wanted this. Rafe’s grip on me tightened, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling me flush against him. And me — I let him. I let myself melt into him, my arms slipping around his neck, my heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to break free.

When we finally pulled apart, Rafe didn’t move far. His forehead rested against mine, his breathing heavy, his hands still holding onto me like he was scared I’d disappear.

I was the first to break the silence, my voice barely above a whisper. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

Rafe let out a breathy chuckle, his lips still ghosting over mine. “Keep telling yourself that, Maybank.”

I wanted to argue, to throw up my walls again, to pretend like this was just another game we were playing. But the weight of the necklace resting against my skin, the way his hands still lingered on my waist — it was too real. Too much.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to step back, even though every part of me wanted to stay right there, pressed against him. “This doesn’t change anything,” I muttered, running a hand through my curls as if that would somehow reset the moment, make it easier to breathe.

Rafe tilted his head, watching me with that infuriating smirk. “If you say so.”

God, I hated him. Hated the way he always acted like he had the upper hand. Hated that he was right.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I turned on my heel. “You coming back to the party, or are you gonna stand out here and stare at the moon like some lovesick idiot?”

He chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside me. “Depends. Are you gonna keep pretending you don’t care?”

I shot him a glare, but it held no real heat. “I don’t.”

Rafe hummed, unconvinced. “Mm-hmm.”

We walked in silence for a few moments, the distant sound of the party growing louder with each step. Before we reached the house, Rafe grabbed my wrist, stopping me just before we reached the porch lights.

I turned to him, raising a brow. “What now?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just glanced down at the necklace resting against my collarbone. When his gaze met mine again, something in his expression softened. “You’re not alone, you know.”

My breath hitched, but I masked it with a scoff. “Whatever you say, Cameron.”

He let me go then, and without another word, I stepped inside, back into the noise, the attention, the chaos of the party — the world where we weren’t supposed to exist together.

[yvesdot]

I will be running a mini book club reading one of my favorite books in the world, Words in Deep Blue by Cath Crowley, during the week of August 18-24 (Sunday to Saturday), with a grace period of an additional week for stragglers.

We will be discussing:

plot structure

what makes good YA good

the political underpinnings of all those books about bookshops

Words in Deep Blue is a poignant, delicately written novel that makes me laugh as much as cry. I've never read anything quite like it. Put most briefly, it's about a girl who is forced to move back to her hometown after her brother's sudden death, stuck working across from an old friend she'd meant to leave behind. There's an epistolary romance, dual perspectives, a lot of literary references, and a lot of ocean. It's a perfect beach read if you're someone like me who needs a tragedy underpinning their comfort. See more on Goodreads here.

If you're interested: join the yvescord and post in #book-club, or DM me!

[madroxed]

WIP GAME

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word.

I was tagged by @floating-in-the-blue 🖤

My word was HEART.

Her mama’s cooked beef stew and cornbread, a pie already cooling on the side, brown sugar and cherries in the air, and Kate sets the table and pours iced tea from a pitcher into everyone’s waiting glasses.

The visiting preacher’s there, too, talking to Scott in a slow, toneless voice that’s making her brother’s eyes glaze over, and normally Kate would go rescue him, if only so she doesn’t have to hear him complain later, but today her attention’s too focused elsewhere. The brothers — “I’m Seth, this is Richie. Pleased to meet you.” — are sat politely in their assigned seats, no sign of anything except perfect manners if you ignore the way their eyes seem to be taking in every little thing.

Kate knows her house ain’t that interesting.

[from dusk till dawn ∙ seth/kate/richie]

Edwin’s half bent out the window making soft, coo-ing noises at the crow he’s convinced is Monty. He’s usually right about these sorts of things, and Monty was a good sort in the end so Charles probably shouldn’t be hoping that it’s just a regular bird and not the sometimes-boy obsessed with his best friend.

Or whatever.

[dead boy detectives ∙ charles/edwin]

After, stood on the front steps in the scorching sun, she says goodbye to the last of the stragglers and waits until their shadows cool her skin.

“Kate,” Richie says, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

“Kate,” Seth says, smile dangerous on his lips.

“Come on,” she says and leads them away, towards the place she knows their car is waitin’. They don’t question it, just follow half a step behind and linger as she slides into the back seat, leather sticking to her thighs.

[from dusk till dawn ∙ seth/kate/richie part ii]

“Ready?” he asks.

Ready, she thinks. Readier than she’s ever been for anything in her life. So ready she can’t put it into words, just nods and knows he understands anyway.

[stranger things ∙ steve & robin]

The first time Simon sees Raphael again it's in the middle on a party - a rager, really, complete with neon and thudding music and fancy designer drugs Simon's never been inclined to try - and he's surrounded by his people, celebrating Charlie's deathday in morbid chaos. Simon's sweating profusely, his hair in disarray, and of course - of course - he's wearing nothing except a pair of bright red booty shorts with 'vamp' bejewelled on the ass.

Hello, ninety years. Good to see absolutely nothing has changed.

[shadowhunters ∙ simon/raphael]

No pressure tagging: @fake-mouthstatic @coyotesuspect @shanastoryteller @softbrah @thisissirius @doreyg @lavellenchanted

Your word is: WARM

[givemeonereason]

My Blue-Eyed Master Part 2

Part 1

Photo Credit: Here

Rating: Sassy Candy!

A/N: Gojo is such a tease! I can't say I wouldn't mind his flirting.

Thank you for the wait as well. I am trying to space out my pieces because it gives me a chance to cool down before starting again. Creators are all susceptible to the dreaded creator block.

If you're interested in being added to a taglist for this series, please send me an ask or a message and I'll be happy to add you :)

╒══════════════════════╕

Days are a blessing when they don’t have nonsense caked into them. 98% of them are no-nonsense and you like it that way.

People come into the cafe, eat and drink, converse with the ladies on staff, and leave.

There haven't been any major incidents in recent months, which puts everyone's mind at ease. It is rare, but people disobey the rules and something will be done about it. Thankfully, the police have never had to get involved. June would most likely have to shut Cafe Sakura down if that would be the case.

But, like most things, it's only a matter of time...

And that thing, is him.

Today was going good. There was a morning rush, and by rush, several tables were being taken by a small group of housewives chatting about their social club and two local college students who used the wifi to send exam papers. They all order drinks and small treats.

It's relaxing when you don't have a stereotypical crowd. The crowd is there for one thing and one thing only, girls.

It's true, that cosplay cafes are made with the fantasies of men in mind, but that doesn't mean that lots of different people don't come in to enjoy what Cafe Sakura has to offer.

Afternoon crowd, that's a different story.

People come in from all walks, and straight out of the woodwork sometimes. Salarymen on their lunch break, dear Ren who has been coming to the cafe for years since she practically raised June while her mother was working, students on their vacations, tourists who are looking for that otaku thrill, and some stragglers who stumbled in without knowing what they would find.

Halfway through your work day, you dropped off a plate of scones and clotted cream at the table you were assigned to. You smiled and gave a small curtsy towards the three gentlemen in business suits before turning away towards the back.

“..Scuse me?” You heard the suave voice before you saw who spoke. “Miss crustacean, I would like to order now.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. And closed your eyes tight.

I swear to the gods above that if it’s who, or better yet what I think it is, I’m quitting tonight.

“Helloooo?” You saw him waving at you to get your attention out of the corner of your eye. You turn towards him, the look in your eye very well would have been a K-O, instant kill, high score.

He threw his hands up in self-defense. “Woaaaaah there missy, what’s got your panties in a bunch?”

Die.

Your eyes relaxed a little but still remained narrowed at the white-haired man when you looked at him. “Who said I was wearing any?” It was deadpan, but took that shit-eating grin off his face.

His eyes went wide for a moment, but he smiled wider than he was before. “Is that an invitation?”

Die.

Keeping eye contact with him. “Sure, an invitation to go to hell.”

He smiled so wide his eyes closed. “As long as you’re there with me.” He opened one eye to make a wink at you.

God, please, if you exist, smite this man down!

“I’m not your waitress today.” You turn with your nose in the air, walking towards the coffee bar to brew a cappuccino.

The pout on his face drew the other girls to his table, rushing to take his order and steal his smiles from him.

You snickered to yourself. A small win for you.

The current standings: Jackass 1 - 1 You.

You kept the smile on your face when you walked up to a nearby table. "Good afternoon Master, what can--"

"Oh please say you'll come!" A young hostess is gawking and squealing loudly at the irritating man.

You shake your head and start over. "Forgive me, Master, Milla is very excited today. What can I get for you?"

You wrote down the small order the younger man asked for. He looked to be in college and it showed in the way he couldn't help but stare Milla's backside as she batted her eyelashes at the white-hair, blue eyes...

"Mister, please come. It's going to be so much fun!" She's gyrating and swaying her hips. "All the girls are going to dress up." She gave him the look, the eyes, and the cleavage money shot. "You'll love what my costume is going to be."

He rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped up on the tabletop. The way he looked at her over his dark sunglasses almost made her melt into the tile floor below her. She giggled. "And what is the costume you're going to wear?"

The college kid at your table spoke up, super intrigued as to what she's going on about. "Yeah, what are you going to wear?" He sounded so desperate, you thought as you set down the fruity mocktail on the table.

Milla turned so that both men could see her, giggling in a very cute way, her face flushed. "It's a secret." A finger pressed against her lips. "So that means you'll have to come find out." She poked her cheek, smiling largely.

The man who you were serving had stars in his eyes the way he stared at her. He pulled his phone out. "Just tell me when!"

She sashayed to the entrance door and grabbed a few flyers. And handed them to the guys, flashing winks at each one of them. "I'm going to be so excited to get to wear my outfit."

You looked at her, she's still so young. She has so much to learn about the ways of men. Not to say that she doesn't know much, but she's way too eager. The men eat that right up though.

You were her age once. Eighteen, almost out of high school. The guys who came to the cafe would request you by name. It was super exhausting to keep up with it every night after school, but it gave you a sense of worth. Being an honor student and working as a hostess at a maid cafe are polar opposites, but the confidence boosts what's best. Most of the time you came off as stuck up, shut out, but at the cafe, you could woo any man's fantasies.

If you truly wanted to gain that type of attention back, all you had to do was crank up the charm and the men would be at your feet. But after working there for several years there really isn't much point in trying too hard. The level of respect you received was good enough, especially from your regulars and new customers alike. You were polite and sweet and that was all you really needed to do.

"What about you Y/N?" Him again.

You turned to him with a sweet smile. If the gods won't strike him with lightning then an uncharacteristic smile from you might work. "What about me, Master?"

His smile was larger than life. He took his glasses off his face, his blue eyes peeking out behind the strands of hair in his face. Milla was blinking in his direction. Her cheeks were red. You knew what she was thinking, he's so hot. But this is just the game you're playing.

"What are you going to be dressed as?" The words practically roll off the tip of his tongue.

You stand at the front of his table and playfully pop your hip, taking your pointer finger and tapping your bottom lip. "Hmmmmm, I don't know. Do you have any suggestions?"

He tilted his chin up exposing his sharp jawline. Milla almost fell over so she turned towards you. "I know, Y/N you should be a kitty-cat. That way you can meow and wiggle your butt at all the cute boys."

Blue eyes, the college kid, and a few other tables are now listening in. "I think all of you ladies dressed up with cat ears would be really hot." A high schooler at a nearby table added.

Kiko, a tall, slender hostess with long red hair walked over to join in the fun. "Maybe we should have a kitty day. What do you think Masters?" She's egging all of them on. She's a star vixen in the cafe. And her sensuality knows no bounds. The entire cafe is practically drooling when they hear her suggestion.

A loud and pronounced, "Yeah!" could be heard from across the room. She swirled around, her hair flowing over her shoulders like a goddess. "I'll make sure to put in a word with the Mistress." She went and grabbed some more of the costume day flyers and handed them out to the other tables. "Make sure you come to see us for this too." She whispered to two middle-aged gentlemen at a table she walked passed, "I'll be wearing a Wonder Woman outfit." The men delicately folded the flyer and tried to find a place to treasure it, one in his wallet, the other shoved in the interior pocket of his jacket.

You laughed to yourself. Sometimes you forget how lively the place can be when your coworkers are stirring all the men up. And you have to admit, it's very fun to play along. Maybe you would actually enjoy costume day. It will probably be packed and who knows what ruckus is going to ensue.

The warmth from your side tore your attention away from the tables that were hooting at Kiko. The voice coming smooth in your ear. "I was thinking maybe mermaid-related since you like seafood so much." You could feel the heat of his breath against your neck. It caught you off guard.

You turned and just barely brushed your nose against his. He was bent at the waist for equal eye level. You blinked a few times getting a clear view of those celestial eyes. The burst of color like a blue void sucking you in. But mostly you notice how gentle his eyes are. You shake your head before you're lost through time and space alike. You take a step back. "I would really like to see how well you wear a shell bra."

Annnnnnd, done.

You scoff. The sugary, sweet tone of your voice back to a sarcastic cadence. "Sure, and I'll make sure to be glistening wet too."

He bent further towards you. His response was too quick with his excitement. "You will?!"

Time to take the lead! Jackass 1 - 2 You.

"Only if you kiss the girl."

He almost fell by how he moved in towards you. You took the opportunity to flick his forehead.

"Owwww." He placed a palm across his forehead. "That hurt." His nose was scrunched up, his lips pouting.

"Don't be a big baby."

He rubbed the spot marred against his skin with red. "Oh! Let me kiss it," Milla went towards him, but you stopped her. "No, let him suffer."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Curses!" He balled his hand into a fist. "I will get you if it's the last thing I do."

"Okay, when you get back from the 1950's murder-mystery, give me a call." You laugh and walk away.

"Don't worry Master, she can be a big meanie sometimes." She took his arm and helped him back down in his seat. "You never know, maybe she's mean to you because she really likes you."

Milla and the man both heard the echoing burst of your laughter.

"I promise, she's really great." Milla sounded hopeful, her face showing worry. "I don't know what it is with you. I haven't ever seen her act like this before."

He thought for a moment. "Milla, my sweet, could you do me a favor?"

She smiled at his enderment. "Of course, Master."

If only she could have recognized the wickedness in his intention.

╘══════════════════════╛

© 2024 givemeonereason

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated :)

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Taglist:

[queenmina37]

hi!! i found out your bleach x bnha crossover series last night and i DEVOURED it, i had such a great time reading it and it's so funny 😭 i just wanted to say thank you for sharing such a brilliant brainworm that will probably now live in MY brain forever 💜 i know it hasn't been updated in like a year but that won't stop me 😾 and since we're here i figure i'll ask something: how would aizawa react if he found out ichigo has two whole *kids*?

again, Thank You and hope you have a good day 💜

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA You're the person who left comments on Ghost Hunters of UA, aren't you?? I'm so glad you liked it!

This is an interesting thing because I could actually swear that I've written something about this? Actually, I just realized that I probably have some parts of the story written... that I haven't posted... because... I don't even know... I remember that I had the very last story for the series written, but I didn't want to post it if the rest of the series was still not finished, but I might actually post it at some point, if I can just remember to do that.

But I could swear I've written something about Aizawa finding out about Kazui and Ichika? It's possible it's one of the group chat chapters that I wrote and then decided not to go through with the idea at all? Yeah, actually, I just found it and it's definitely like that.

I'm not going to put this on ao3 (at least at this time), but since you asked, here you go! Please remember that it was written before the first chapter of Ghost Hunters of UA, so it might not be entirely accurate, for example with what happens in that story, but, yeah, anyways.

Karakura Gang + Stragglers (Group chat name)

God’s Antithesis (Ishida)

Ichigo

God’s Worst Mistake (Ichigo)

Uryuu

God’s Antithesis (Ishida)

[A picture of the living room of the Ishida Residence. Sitting in front of a dark wine red couch and the low table in front of it, on the floor, are two boys around the same age. One of them has wild, spike orange hair that is just slightly smoother than Kurosaki Ichigo’s spiky hair. He’s grinning brightly, his purple eyes alight. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a baby blue hoodie. The other boy also had orange hair, though of a different, darker shade than the other boy’s. He was beaming. He had dark blue eyes. Both boys were staring right at the camera.]

Why is kazui in my house

Assno (Asano)

asdfghjkl

Reject Universe (Orihime)

Oh!

I didnt know kazui was over!

Dragon (Tatsuki... I think?)

Oh my god what the fuck

Arrancar Translator (Chad...?)

Huh

Queen (Rukia)

Oh my god how is he over there?????

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

omw dont let him leave

God’s Antithesis (Ishida)

Bit late for that

Reject Universe (Orihime)

I just got home and he just ran out (°-°)

Dragon (Tatsuki)

Is he scared of u?

This is like the third time he has done that right?

Reject Universe (Orihime)

Oh no surely not right?

I dont want kazui to be scared of me!!

Queen (Rukia)

He isnt scared orihime I promise

God’s Worst Mistake (Ichigo)

He just gets similar alarms ringing like when rukia smiles when he has done something he shouldnt have done

Also im coming over, see if I can hold him down long enough for renji to drag him back home

Karakura Red (Karin)

Caught the little shit

Bringing him home but ichi-nii should still come keep an eye on him

Me and yuzu have shit to do

God’s Worst Mistake (Ichigo)

omw

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

I will be there in a few hours once these idiots get the senkaimon going

Queen (Rukia)

Might be good

Kazui has been taking it rather hard that ichigo is on such a long mission

A bit of time alone with his dad will do him some good

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

Im sorry

Kurosaki has a son?

Dragon (Tatsuki)

Wait we didnt tell u?

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

No????

Improvised Molotov Cocktails (Mizuiro)

He has a wife and a husband too

Assno (Asano)

Some of us cant find one and he went and got himself two

Arrancar Translator (Chad)

Actually he has two kids

Son and daughter

Reject Universe (Orihime)

Oh but renji is actually ichika’s dad

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

What

Improvised Molotov Cocktails (Mizuiro)

Kazui and ichika are twins

Ichigo is kazui’s dad

Renji is ichika’s dad

Simple

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

In what universe

Dragon (Tatsuki)

Well I mean they have the same mom and are twins so its pretty simple

Must Protect (Yuzu?)

Aww!

[A picture of Ichigo laying down on the couch in the living room of the Kurosaki Residence. He has one hand under his head, while the other is wrapped around Kazui, who is laying between him and the back of the couch, his head on Ichigo’s chest. Both have their eyes closed. Ichigo is in his shinigami uniform.]

They are so cute!

Queen (Rukia)

Is he purring?

Karakura Red (Karin)

Of course hes purring

This is ichi-nii we are talking about

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

I’m sorry

Kurosaki

Purrs?

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

Like an engine yeah

But only when he naps with the kids

They love it

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

??????

How???????

Improvised Molotov Cocktails (Mizuiro)

You havent heard him purr before?

Arrancar Translator (Chad)

He was already doing it in middle school but it escalated in high school

Queen (Rukia)

It escalated even more after he died

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

And then it became exclusive to the kids

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

????????????????????

God’s Antithesis (Ishida)

Wait

What do you mean its exclusive to the kids

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

Its exclusive to the kids?

He only purrs when he wants to nap with the kids?

Queen (Rukia)

It calms kazui down and he falls asleep within seconds

Ichika too but thats because shes been conditioned into it rather than it being natural like with kazui

Why?

Karakura Red (Karin)

He does it with me too tho

Yuzu too

Reject Universe (Orihime)

He did it to uryuu once too!

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

What??????

Karakura Red (Karin)

Urahara said its a hollow thing

Pack thing and all that

Must protect little ones

Hes trying to calm down and put to sleep any younger relatives essentially

Must Protect (Yuzu)

Yeah I hear the visored do the same with him too

But he never does it to them because they are older than him

Karin has done it to me too

Karakura Red (Karin)

Yuzu!!!

Dragon (Tatsuki)

Oh my god

Assno (Asano)

Y r u guys so pure?

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

Im not sure what about having a bloodthirsty cannibal in your head is pure but u do u buddy

Assno (Asano)

Wait no!!!

Panicked into Solutions (Renji)

Also I will be there in another 30 mins

Must Protect (Yuzu)

Stay for tea until they wake up!

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

I

I hate to break this to you people but kurosaki is expected at school tomorrow morning

Karakura Red (Karin)

Thats what shunpo and sonido are for

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

What does that even mean

Improvised Molotov Cocktails (Mizuiro)

He fast

Caterpillar Man (Aizawa)

That explains literally nothing

Queen (Rukia)

It explains literally everything

[klimkovsky]

Globular star cluster Messier 3

Messier 3 (M3) is one of the most spectacular globular star clusters in the night sky. Here's a detailed overview:

Basic Information:

Catalog Designations: M3, NGC 5272

Constellation: Canes Venatici

Right Ascension: 13h 42m 11.62s

Declination: +28° 22′ 38.2″

Distance: Approximately 33,900 light-years from Earth

Apparent Magnitude: +6.2, making it visible to the naked eye under very dark skies

Characteristics:

Type: Globular Cluster

Age: Around 11.4 billion years old, making it one of the older globular clusters in our galaxy.

Size: It has a diameter of about 180 light-years.

Star Count: M3 contains hundreds of thousands of stars, with estimates around 500,000.

Visual Aspects:

Appearance: Through a small telescope, M3 appears as a fuzzy ball of light. With larger telescopes or under good observing conditions, you can resolve individual stars at its edges, showing a dense core with stars packed closely together.

Core Structure: It has a very dense core, which is a common feature among globular clusters, where the stars are so close that they might interact gravitationally.

Scientific Significance:

Study of Stellar Evolution: Globular clusters like M3 are crucial for understanding stellar evolution, particularly for stars in their later stages like red giants, horizontal branch stars, and blue stragglers.

Variable Stars: M3 is known to host numerous variable stars, including RR Lyrae variables, which are important for determining distances in the Universe.

Historical Note:

Discovery: M3 was discovered by Charles Messier in 1764. It was one of the first objects he added to his catalog, primarily because he wanted to avoid confusing it with comets.

Observation Tips:

Best Time to Observe: M3 is best observed in the spring months in the Northern Hemisphere. It's visible from both hemispheres, but it's higher in the sky for northern observers.

Equipment: Even with binoculars, M3 appears as a faint, nebulous patch. A small telescope will resolve some of the outer stars, and larger telescopes reveal a beautiful, densely packed core.

M3 remains a favorite target for both amateur and professional astronomers due to its brightness, size, and the rich detail it offers for study and observation.

Source: Grok AI

Traditionally, I will add to what the neural network has collected for us that the globular star cluster Messier 3 has a rather interesting location in the sky. Formally, it belongs to the constellation Canes Venatici, but is located on its border with the constellations Bootes and Coma Berenices, and is located just a few degrees from the directions to the north pole of our Galaxy. The latter circumstance makes this cluster the most distant from the plane of the Milky Way and allows it to be observed and studied with minimal interference and absorption from the dust component of the Galaxy. And this, of course, has already been reflected in the results of the research - the distance to the M3 cluster is known to scientists with a fairly high accuracy.

And besides, it is very convenient to look for the Messier 3 cluster in the sky — it is easily found almost in the middle between two bright stars of the spring sky — between Cor Caroli (Alpha Canum Venaticorum) and Arcturus - the brightest star of the constellation Bootes and the entire northern sky.

Globular star cluster Messier 3 by SDSS (Sloan Digital Sky Survey)

[buffybummerz]

Spiraling - Chapter 1

Fandom: White Lotus

Pairing(s): Timothy Ratliff x Female Original Character

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: explicit sexual content, extramarital affairs, alcohol, language, etc.

Word Count: 2.7 K

Author Notes: Just a repost of a fic I posted on an old account, hoping to continue…

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65424541/chapters/168375391

2021 

The hotel was decadent, rich with jewel tones and burnished gold in an art deco style. Erté and Mucha's prints lined the walls, wisps of women selling absinthe and cigarettes. A smile played at burgundy lips as Paige traipsed through the lobby. Endless meetings made her thirsty for something expensive. After all, her company paid for this trip and covered an endless tab. She knew it was scandalous but didn't give a damn.

Nestled down an expansive hallway was the hotel restaurant. Paige thought of ordering a bloody and tender steak between her teeth. But in the moment, she craved something with a burn. 

Paige eyed the bar, waving off the hostess as she continued her journey in a haze. Tomorrow was a day off; there'd be time to nurse a hangover at the rooftop pool. A few stragglers dotted tufted stools, gaze glued to half-empty glasses. She slinked atop teal velvet.

"What are you having, miss?" The bartender was a clean-shaven waif tucked into a white button-up and plain black vest. "Cosmopolitan?"

"Old Fashioned," Paige scoffed, slinging dark hair over one shoulder, "Woodford Reserve."

"Right away," impressed by her choice, he sauntered off. A woman in her twenties who not only preferred dark liquor but the expensive kind was a rare breed. 

And a rare breed she was.

Several minutes had hardly passed when a man slid into the seat beside her. He dabbed at a sweaty brow before tugging his shirt open at the neck. Paige studied the stranger with intrigue. His heavy breathing mingled with ice clattering against the glass. 

He was older, with dark hair speckled with distinguished grey. His tan skin was weathered but not leathery, muscular but softened by age. A broad back stretched his suit jacket, and his shoulders rolled in an attempt to ease tension.

“Not prepared for the city heat?” Paige propped her chin in an upturned palm, enjoying how icy blue eyes flicked to the periphery. A strand of dark hair hung impishly from his brow.

“You’d think being a Southerner would prepare me for this.” His accent was thick with a heavy drawl that sent shivers up her spine.

“You haven’t been to Manhattan in July.” That earned an exasperated chuckle as the bartender reappeared. He slid an etched glass into waiting fingers. The stranger rolled his neck before allowing his gaze to turn to her with interest.

“What are you having, darling?” The timbre of his voice lowered an octave, hungry for something other than liquor. Paige batted her lashes, glancing over one shoulder. 

“Old Fashioned,” The tumbler thudded against the bar. She ran a manicured finger beneath her lower lip, stopping the color from bleeding. “Woodford Reserve.”

Déjà vu.

“You have good taste,” his demeanor softened as he waved over the bartender. “Most young women enjoy those damn seltzers these days.”

“You have a history with young women?” Silk slid up one leg as she rotated on the stool. A slit revealed an expanse of a bare thigh.

“No,” the man drawled, elongating the word, “My daughter and her friends are crazy about that shit though.”

His neck craned forward, fingers toying with a burnished wedding band.

“What brings you to Chicago? Family vacation?” God, she hoped not.

Business,” he grimaced, “You?”

“Business,” Paige repeated. The stranger smirked, “Is that so hard to believe?”

“In one of those little black dresses?” Unabashed, his eyes snagged on a plunging neckline.

“It’s amazing what a good blazer can do.” Lips split in a devious grin. The bartender returned with another Old Fashioned, met with an open hand. He clutched the glass, guzzling half in a gulp. “Thirsty?”

“Long fucking day.” His fingers clenched before being thrust forward, “Where are my manners. Tim.”

“Paige.” She offered her own, enjoying the warmth of skin on skin. He lingered for a moment, fingers retracting with reluctance.

“Pretty name,” he mused before draining the rest of his drink. “Are you from New York?”

“I live there now,” Paige began, “But I’m from Ohio.”

“My condolences.” A playful jab earned a dramatic eye roll: “They eat chili on spaghetti there?”

“It’s a disgusting delicacy,” Paige admitted, “I’m more partial to Peter Luger’s these days.”

“A woman after my own heart,” he offered his empty glass to her, resulting in a giggle and a clink. “Cheers to a good steak.”

“Where are you from? Atlanta?” It was a genuine guess; she wasn’t well-versed in Southern geography.

“Durham, North Carolina,” he admitted, prideful, “Born in Raleigh. Moved when I got accepted to Duke.”

“Fancy.” She waved down the bartender, holding two fingers, “That Ivy League?”

“Not quite,” A dark and raspy chuckle sent a jolt through her, “What about you? Ohio State?”

“Ohioans aren’t all Buckeyes.” Dark eyes rolled again, “I went to Kenyon.”

“Your daddy pays your way?” Blue eyes fell on the now-empty glass, willing it to refill.

“God no,” Paige groaned, holding two fingers when the bartender returned, “I assume yours did. Old money?”

“Presumptuous. But not wrong.”

Student loans for me. Up to my eyeballs.” She wondered if he felt guilty in that moment, a little rich boy who never needed to struggle. Two more drinks arrived in record time.

“If that’s the case,” Tim guffawed, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink?”

“You can always repay me.” Blunt teeth dug into the meat of her lower lip. “We both have rooms; we should use one.”

A sip of liquor caught in a tan throat as Tim wiped at his mouth.

“Did I startle you?” Paige twisted a finger in dark hair; this was a rich man who still believed in fidelity.

“A little,” his cadence stilted a bit, large hand clasping at his chest, “I’m not that kind of man.”

“What if I plied you with drinks until you are?” She picked her glass up in one hand, cubes clinking at the edges.

I bet you’re the same age as my daughter.” Thick fingers threaded through dark hair; it was clear this revelation was troublesome.

"I'm twenty-seven," Paige admitted, propping her chin on a curled knuckle, "But I can still call you daddy. Your wife doesn't need to know."

Tim groaned, eyes heavy-lidded in a moment of weakness. He began toying with the wedding band again before pulling it over the curve of one knuckle and into his pocket. Throwing all his inhibitions away, he answered with a lurid:

"What wife?"

They stayed at the bar, laughing and drinking until the other stools filled. What began as intimate became crowded, a tipsy Paige falling into Tim's chest.

Time froze for a moment as manicured nails clutched a pressed shirt. His chest was solid beneath, heaving in sync with her own.

What had begun as playful shifted to serious as dark eyes fluttered upwards. Large hands squeezed the bare flesh of exposed shoulders, pupils eclipsing the blue.

"I'm on seventeen," he muttered, "Where are you?"

"Ten," Paige responded in a delicate whisper, head spinning from the drinks.

"Your room then," the man who'd begun as cautious and cagey now oozed confidence. Paige suspected the liquor was responsible, but didn't argue as their fingers laced.

They marched towards the gated elevators, Tim in control as high heels clicked on the marble. They stood with mounting impatience as the dial slid to the lobby, hand in hand.

A uniformed bellhop appeared, unlocking the decorative gate as wood-paneled doors opened. 

"What floor?" The man announced, voice low and tired. Tim smirked, pulling a crisp twenty from his pocket.

"How about you sit this one out?" He presented the bill between two long fingers as the younger man snatched it. His red cap was askew as he stepped from the lift.

"Enjoy your night." The couple didn't even process the words, Paige melting against the hand resting on the small of her back. Tim was quick to punch the number ten before forcing the doors closed.

Liquor buzzed in her bones, though she was sober enough to want this. They stood shoulder to shoulder, attempting stoicism on the ride up. A large hand fell to a pert bottom, squeezing and massaging.

"I can't wait until you're writhing beneath me," he growled in the shell of her ear; Paige clenched her thighs. It wasn't easy to hold back when the elevator arrived.

It was her turn to lead, yanking him into the dim hallway. When they arrived at the room, sconces washed them in a warm glow. She fished the key from a minuscule clutch, pushing it towards the old-fashioned lock.

Tim braced supple hips with either hand, pulling her flush against his straining cock. A wanton moan escaped red lips when his own attacked her throat with nips and licks. Fingers fumbled with the brass key when a large hand shadowed her own.

"Let me get that, honey," that drawl could have undone her core, already slick and swollen with want. They stumbled in, stilettos wobbling.

A singular light glowed from the bedside table as the door locked and latched. Tim wasted no time pressing her against the wall, hiking her dress up. Paige whimpered when his wedged between spread thighs, inviting her to rock forward. The friction was delectable as a calloused hand toyed with lace panties. 

"That's right, honey," Clammy brows plastered together, "Get yourself all hot and bothered."

"I need something in me," she said, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth and tugging, "Anything."

"You're greedy," he declared in a gasp as small hands worked to remove his jacket. Timothy knew he needed to pace himself and keep her satisfied for as long as possible. Despite his money and line of work, infidelity had never crossed his mind. 

"I know what I want," Paige continued to ride his thigh. She paused only to free the buttons of his shirt, pressing red kisses beneath his jaw.

It had been years since Victoria had shown even the vaguest interest in sex. This renewed vigor had his cock twitching.

"And what's that?" Tim teased as his shirt spread open, nails scraping his chest and belly. Paige slipped either finger beneath a silk strap, unmounting herself from a bent knee. The minuscule fabric slipped down her shoulders as the dress fell to the swell of her hips.

Her dusky nipples pebbled, tempting him to nip. But that wasn't the woman's plan as she let silk pool at her ankles, hands busy with his belt.

"When was the last time your wife sucked your cock?" What a disgusting loaded sentence, one that had him fawning.

“Stop teasing,” he warned, watching as lithe fingers drew the zipper down. Paige groaned at the lack of underwear, pushing navy slacks down far enough to free himself.

“Or what?” Her fingers squeezed at his base, coarse hair tickling her skin. “Daddy gonna spank me?”

Tim remained silent, watching as she slid to her bare knees. Paige licked her lips, eyes locked as saliva dripped onto sensitive skin. 

She worked him with one hand, thumb swiping across a leaking slit. Remembering the last time he’d been so hard and ready was challenging.

She lapped at his tip with a pink tongue. His fingers twisted through dark hair, urging her forward. Paige obliged, adjusting to his length and girth. One hand reached upward to scrape at his belly while the other wrapped around tight balls.

“You gotta stop,” he winced, attempting to hold himself back. His length twitched against Paige’s tongue. 

“Alright, up there?” Wide, doe eyes gazed upwards, heavy-lidded. 

“Yeah,” Tim groaned, running one hand through his hair. “It’s been a while, and I’m not ready “to

“Come down my throat?” She cut him off with faux innocence. He chuckled, stepping out of his pants before leaning down.

“Your mouth is filthy .” It was impressive how he scooped her into his arms and marched over to the bed. Timothy leaned down to suck a taut nipple between his lips.

“Someone’s been lifting weights,” Paige teased, arms cinched around his neck.

“You think old men can’t be in shape?” He didn’t look up from the job before dropping her into bed. Paige squealed with delight, bouncing on the mattress. Tim shrugged his shirt down his bare arms before taking off his shoes and socks. In a matter of seconds, he knelt on the floor, pulling her forward by the ankles. Large fingers looped into the elastic of her panties, pulling them down.

“Legs open,” Tim growled, pushing her thighs wide. Paige sank against the bed, enjoying the breathy moans that escaped him. Releasing the grip of one thigh, one thick finger drifted down the length of a throbbing slit. “Fucking beautiful.”

“In me, now, please,” she begged in fragments. More than ready, Tim eased two fingers inside the warmth of her cunt. Tight and suffocating, it was impossible not to imagine his cock sheathed. Thrusting in languid strokes, her hips met each other. This was a woman who enjoyed sex. Moisture beaded at a stiffened bud when he darted forward.

A wanton moan escaped delicate lips as he suckled and laved. Paige spasmed and clenched, chasing her high. But Timothy was selfish, needing to fuck her with more than his fingers. Withdrawing earned a pout as she wobbled upon shaking elbows.

“That was rude.” Her dark hair was messy from incessant writhing, and her lower lip pushed out.

“On your knees,” he demanded, enjoying how her brows arched in question. Tim should’ve asked for a condom, but he cared too little as she turned over. Her bottom wiggled, swollen heat exposed.

“You on the pill?” It was an unsexy but necessary question.

“In this age?” She looked over her shoulder. “Obviously.”

"Thank the Lord," he groaned in relief, body eclipsed by his own. With little time wasted, he split her folds with a leaking tip. She was a ripe pink and dripping. 

Plunging in was delicious, a moan falling from her lips. Tim was sure he had died and gone to heaven, which he didn't deserve. They heaved in unison as he fell forward, chest pressed to her back. A sharp nose pushed through sweat-laden hair, pressing to the expanse of her back.

"What do you want, darling?" One tan forearm braced beside her own as the other sought the supple peak of one breast.

"Move," she demanded through a stiff jaw, "Please ."

A beautiful word, one he honored as hips together like pistons. Sex was like riding a bicycle: you never forgot the motion. Though Paige's gasps and sighs were surprising. If it were a show, Tim didn't care.

His ego needed this as much as his cock.

Sharp nails clutched at the sheets as Paige met every thrust with an aggressive one. Their pelvises and hips would bruise, but neither cared. Timothy spilled first, twitching and spurting as he buried himself deeper. His hand drifted down a taut torso before finding her clit. Slick circles rubbed against the bud, also pushing her to the brink.

Neither said anything for a long time. Chests rose and fell with the desperate need to fill their lungs. Tim pushed his brow to a freckled shoulder. Tears dripped onto soft skin as he allowed himself to feel again.

The sweltering sun burst from the window, rousing a groggy Paige from a deep sleep. Her body was pleasantly sore as she remembered burrowing into the crook of her lover's arm. It had been a long time since she slept so well, even if it meant waking alone. Expected from a married businessman who likely had to run to a conference at dawn.

But on her bedside table was a strange development. A piece of folded paper, her name written in blocky letters. Paige plucked it into her fingers, allowing the sheets to fall from her bare chest.

I don't want you to think me rude for leaving. Early meeting.

Last night was...explosive.

Give me a call sometime. Victoria will never know.

Tim Ratliff

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Her heart skipped a beat, jaw agape at the notion. It was a disgusting feeling, initiated as a man's mistress.

Yet, the thought of reigniting this flame set her ablaze.