#Micro magnet

[wallymagnet]

Micro magnet in ring shape

info@wallymagnet.com WhatsApp: 0086 15257962734 www.wallymagnet.com

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Scientists use magnetic resonance microscopy as a non-invasive MRI method to visualise internal organs. This spiky-looking specimen is actually a rat kidney.

Photograph: Gary Cowin/AIBN

2023 Australian Institute For Bioengineering And Nanotechnology Image Contest

[mysticsparklewings]

Terror in Six Words

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He didn't know

she'd been bitten.

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Hey, this isn’t an Obscutober piece! 😦

No, but you’re getting 2 art things from me today because there were some community events on DeviantArt I wanted to partake in, & as it happens a “scary” 6-word story in poetry magnets felt like a good way to do that. 😉

Same as the Obscutober pieces, if you’re curious to hear more about my process for how this all came together—and I promise it was much more involved than you’d think!—Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk a bit more about my general thoughts/process. ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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So, again: Hmm. This doesn't look like an Obscutober piece, and yet...it looks kind of familiar, doesn't it? 😉 We all probably should've known that I'd break out the mini-magnets at least once this month, sooner or later. 🤭

This was actually supposed to be kind of a 2-in-1 piece, but this has been such a busy month and busy week in particular that I got my days mixed up and thought I had more time than I actually did...So it's no longer a 2-in-1, but it wasn't totally a waste, either.

DeviantArt, in typical fashion, is holding a Badge Event this month, and loyal Sparklers will know if it's a badge I like I have a hard time turning those down—We went through something similar last year! And on top of that, @CRLiterature was also holding a Tiny Tales of Terror Challenge...which ran through the 24th, and you'll notice today's date is the 26th. 😅

And to be clear: I'm mentioning the Tiny Tales Challenge not because I expect any kind of exception or what-have-you to be made for me, but just to be transparent about my motivations. It's my fault for missing the deadline and I accept that. The only reason I'm going ahead and posting it now, so soon after the missed deadline, instead of holding off until Halloween is because I am hoping to maybe squeeze in something else just for Halloween, and I've got a bunch of other things to try and scramble to get done on my to-do list before then; If I don't post it today, it may very well not get posted at all. 🫠

[Plot twist: I was thisclose to posting this yesterday, even, but yesterday was a particularly chaotic day so it just wasn't possible—yet more evidence that if I'm not careful and quick about it this artwork may be doomed to live behind the scenes forever.]

It would also be kind of disingenuous to discuss what I made without mentioning that challenge as that's where I got the entire idea to make this specifically a six-word-story from.

DeviantArt's Badge Event, for those who don't know, is encouraging people to make something inspired by some short stories they commissioned. So there was my starting point, and I had been considering breaking out the poetry magnets for a Halloween-ish one-off piece anyway, since I have really been missing them this month while I handle Inktober/Obscutober in a magnet-less way for the first time in years.

While I had those two thoughts at the back of my mind, the Tiny Tales Challenge came up, which asked people to write a scary story in six words or less. And since I'm personally most familiar with six-word-stories from magnetic poetry, it all just kinda came together as a perfect storm in my mind: A six-word story, told in magnets, inspired by one of the stories for the badge event. 💡

Now, that said, if you've read the four short stories for the badge event, you might be scratching your head and trying to figure out what my six words here have to do with any of them. I won't deny for a moment that any connection to the story I picked really isn't obvious, but all I can tell you Sparklers is that my brain is a strange place and you never know what off-the-wall connections are going to be made in there. 🤪

Of the four stories, the one that stuck with me the most was Survivor's Guilt. It has a kind of somber, Twilight-Zone-esque quality to it, and that's more what I personally favor in "horror" story over the typical heart-racing-scream-your-head off variety. [As I've probably talked about a bit before but I don't remember where.]

Somehow, I left that story with one of my favorite My Chemical Romance songs in my head—Early Sunsets Over Monroeville, which itself was inspired by Dawn of the Dead. And I was also reminded just a little of Carmilla, a vampire tale that actually predates Bram Stoker's Dracula.

As I said, my brain is a strange place that makes strange connections. 🥴 My best guess is that my subconscious really hitched onto the ending revelation of Survivor's Guilt, which I won't spoil for you here if you haven't read it. (You should though, it's good!)

Suffice to say: Something about how we don't know what we don't know and we want to understand, but sometimes gaining that understanding is it's own special kind of horror.

But just having those inspirations and making those strange connections alone wasn't enough, of course. I still had to string some actual words together, not just feelings. 😆 So I broke out my notebook for mini-magnet brainstorming and started scribbling.

Well, okay, first I had to search up and read some existing six-word-stories from across the internet because it's been so long since I last tried to write one that I was having trouble getting in what felt like the right headspace to work with so few words. Then I got scribbling.

In said scribbling, I was reminded very much of a few years ago—ironically, the first time I followed an Obscutober list—when I made another one-off mini-magnet piece that was also meant to be a scary story in few words. Granted, that was 50 words or less, so still a very different experience.

That is to say though: I was reminded that "scary" writing is not my strong suit. 😅 I just can't even seem to quite grasp the "punch" to properly shift the words from ominous into actually spooky territory. And that was not made any easier by having to work in so few words.

My main take away from my efforts in the notebook is that it's not actually that hard to come up with six word (or less!) sentences that sound spooky...if you think of them within a scary context. For example, "They ignored the warnings," can be scary if you're thinking of it as people ignoring warnings that will inevitably lead to something dangerous/harmful happening. But it can just as easily be not very scary at all if this "they" is just ignoring warnings of "Oh don't touch that, the paint's still wet and you'll get paint on your hands."

Context is also very important in the words being anything close to a story, and not just...well, just words, if that makes any sense. "There was a body," is a sentence, yes, and it could definitely lean scary if you picture "body" as a non-living person. But it's still a relatively "flat" statement of fact.

I think that's a large part of why I kept thinking of Early Sunsets, and kind of songs in general as I was trying to figure out where to go with my ideas and feelings. Good song lyrics can squeeze a whole lot of story and metaphor into just a few words, and I feel that's especially true with My Chemical Romance. [One of many reasons why they're my favorite.

"They're building a coffin your size," is what I would consider a pretty much perfect scary six-word-story, straight from their song Mama, to give you a better idea of where I'm coming from. And if this could have just been a recycled song quote, I totally would've used that—but this was not the time nor place. 😆

To be fair, despite everything I just described about my thought process, in the end I'm not sure I totally succeeded in getting everything I wanted out of my six words, but of the options I wrote down (that were actually my words to use), this was the one I kept coming back to.

It puts vampires in my head first and foremost—Most certainly because that's my favorite "traditional" monster archetype, and if you know me at all that comes as no surprise at all, I'm sure. But there are plenty of other instances where the answer to the unwritten question of "Bitten by what?" Would be rightly terrifying: Zombie (as more directly related to Early Sunsets), Werewolf, even non-Halloween-ish things like a rabid animal or disease-carrying mosquito.

...Okay the rabid animal could still be Halloween-ish if it was a rabid bat or something, but you get the idea.

Yet there are still ways to put a more metaphorical spin on it; That this "she" could've been "bitten by a bug" as in something that changed her way of thinking or motivations in life and made her into a scarier person than she was before, or something like that.

So perfect, no, but it was the closest to striking the right balance of all the different things I wanted that I was able to come up with.

Which leaves us with the visual component. The magnets are what they always are, but what is this background?

Well, if you remember when I mentioned I've done this short-story-in-few-words kind of thing before, there's actually a touch more irony there. Last time, I used a photo is from a "Tezza College Kit" that I actually won from a past DeviantArt contest as my base and made some additions and modifications to better fit the mood I was going for. Since I knew full-well I wouldn't have time to come up with something from scratch for this, that was the first other option that came to mind.

So I sifted through those photos for something that felt like either a good fit or at least a good place to start.

And I must disclose that at that point, I was actually still strongly considering one other assortment of six words—I was thinking of "cheating the system" and submitting two separate six-word-stories that kind of went together. I ultimately decided not to because the more I thought of the two together, the weaker the other one felt compared to this one.

But I mention that because my initial photo pulls from the kit were pretty different because I was hoping to get two photos that seemed to go together and still felt right thematically. As much as I love the base photo I picked here—so much so I strongly considered it at the time for that 50 word story I keep referring to—It wouldn't have worked for the two-story idea really at all because I just didn't have another photo that would pair well with it for what I wanted.

That said, the photo was a little plain—pure black and white—on it's own, so I ended up fiddling with the colors a bit and bringing up the reds for some more drama.

I will note though that dramatic red wasn't actually my first choice. I had planned to just use the fact that photographing black and white things without a filter is challenging to my advantage, but the photo that was the best of the ones I took in other ways didn't have much color alteration going on. Originally, I was just going to add a little warmth/hints of sepia like happened naturally in one of the other photos I took, but since I had Photoshop open anyway I decided to play just a little, and the red came about as a result of that playtime.

I very nearly actually went with an all-over red tone (except for the white space in the middle), but thought the look was ultimately too dark. I did the spot red after thinking things over and deciding I really didn't want to artificially brighten the image up and mess with the black contrast if I could help it.

Whew. 😮‍💨 ...Leave it to me to make six little words so complicated and particular, right? 😆

I think I ended up trying to make up for "lost time" in not doing more with magnetic poetry this year, even though they're only a very small part of the process. My subconscious thoroughly missed the memo that that wasn't necessary. 😅

Still, frustration at myself for getting the timeline jumbled up aside, I had fun. 🙂 The length of this description might speak more loudly to that than anything else. 🤣

Speaking of, I hate to end this kind of abruptly, but I think I have finally covered everything I wanted to about the art at hand and I still have to cross-post this and do the Obscutober piece for today, too. So if you Sparklers don't mind, I'll leave you to ponder these words, encourage you again to go check out Survivor's Guilt—and the other 3 Terror Tales, too!—and be on my way.

Don't you Sparklers get unknowingly bitten by anything in the meantime, alright? 😉

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Poem © me, MysticSparkleWings

Inspired by FridgePoetProject

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[histrionicscribbler]

tag yourself, which line of my extremely juvenile fridge poetry are you

[a-little-specificity]

magnetic

for @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus finds that he and Sirius are like magnets, two halves of a whole, whizzing through time, and on occasion, being fortunate to have travelled just close enough that they collide, and since Sirius is involved, their collision is typically loud and with some degree of drama.

Once together they're stuck - until something pries them apart, and since Sirius and Remus are both involved, their separation is typically tragic and with some degree of violence.

Their first collision was on the train to Hogwarts, first year, in the compartment Remus had already tucked himself into, nose pressed against the glass, watching the other wizard children in awe. Sirius bursts in, his 11 year old self already full of posh, intelligent swagger.

"And you'll be who then?" His sharp voice, finely accented, cuts through the cozy silence and resonates in Remus' ears. He doesn't think he's ever heard another boy his age talk with such confidence.

"Re- Remus Lupin." Remus turns his eyes fully away from the window, meeting the crystalline grey-blue ones of the boy in the doorway.

"Your parents fans of wolves then?" The boy tosses out casually, tone skirting the line of unkind, before striding fully into the room and throwing himself down lengthwise on the seat opposite Remus.

"And you'll be who, then?" Remus ignores the way his heart sped up at the even casual allusion, the way he can feel the heat spreading up his chest and neck. The train hasn't even left the station yet, he thinks, I'm not going to make it a month, let alone an entire seven years, without being discovered.

"Sirius Black." The way his, Sirius', lips formed the words implies something, but Remus isn't quite sure what.

"Your parents fans of dogs then?" He bit back, a little satisfaction in the way Sirius quickly looked over and met his eyes, a glint of friendly challenge in them.

"Actually, they hate dogs."

"Well mine hate wolves, so I guess we've got something in common at least."

They smile. Maybe this won't be so bad.

Their first separation was a process, silent at first and infinitesimal until it was absolute. The warning signs could be seen in the silences, once comfortable and warm, became cold and riddled with quiet glances where their eyes never met. The secrets they both kept, conversations with James and Lily both, who uttered reassurances they believed but not wholly, not enough. Too many moons apart, too many cuts and bruises, and the I'm sorry-s , not enough to bridge the distance, to break down the walls of Azkaban.

Their second collision is in the Shack, confusing and chaotic, but Remus finally feels whole again, despite it all. Even without the time to hear the whole story, utter the apologies he's been repeating to himself over the past twelve years, the look shared between them, the way Sirius' hand feels in his, his arm wrapped around his back, it's home. It's him. Remus didn't realize just how empty he had been without him.

The last separation - unlike the first - wasn't drawn out. Too quick, over in a a flash of light and a matter of seconds. It felt like hours that Remus' arms were looped tightly around an inconsolable Harry, not just for Harry's sake, but his own, as a way to tether himself, to resist the pull of his other half, the other half of his soul, that faded into nothingness before his own eyes. He can't believe it, how fast the emptiness returned to his being, the pain of a phantom limb, except it's a phantom Sirius, gone again.

He only hopes that they'll collide again, on the other side this time.

cross-posted on A03

[orangameelectronics]

Lightning to 3.5mm Aux Cord Audio Charging Cable - A Must-Have for Car Stereos, Speakers, Headphones

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[ellenhenryart]

(via "Let it Rip Jeremy Allen White Micro Shorts Funny Memes" Magnet for Sale by ellenhenry)

[immaculatasknight]

The war of good against evil in natural science

[celltophone]

Premium material and safe charging

Durability and cover protection

Universal compatibility

TINNED COPPER CORE MATERIAL CONTAINING TPE JACKET

Three fast charging data cables

Redefining performance

[pin-k-ink]

heat // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ mutual pining, strong sexual tension, making out, fingering, nipple play, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, teasing, squirting, unprotected sex

wc ⇢ 6.7k

a/n: not proofread

The arrivals terminal buzzed with a cacophony of greetings and farewells as travelers rushed about - wheeled suitcases clacking against the polished floors. You scanned the teeming crowds, pulse flickering with both excitement and trepidation.

After all these years, you were finally back in Tokyo. The city where you had grown up living across the street from Kenma - the two of you inseparable friends until high school graduation scattered you along diverging paths.

Though you tried keeping in touch through the occasional text and social media, the miles between you seemed to widen into an ever-growing chasm. Which made it all the more surprising when Kenma himself had reached out weeks ago extending an open invitation to stay over at his place during your upcoming visit.

"I have a pretty spacious setup now with my gaming and streaming work," he had typed nonchalantly. "You can crash at mine instead of some soulless hotel room."

Coming from anyone else, the offer could've been easily misconstrued as flirtatious or inappropriate. But this was Kenma - your childhood friend who hardly spoke more than was absolutely necessary, much less indulged in coy overtures. With him, you knew the pragmatic suggestion was precisely as straightforward as he had phrased it.

Still...spending who knew how many nights in close quarters threatened to stir up residual longings you thought had been neatly extricated years ago. You had seen the photographs and gaming celebrity articles documenting how Kenma seemed to fully bloom after high school, shedding his reticence in favor of a quiet magnetism entirely befitting his feline moniker.

Would being confronted with the all-too-appealing reality of Kenma's newly confident presence make you regress into a dumbstruck, overly flustered mess like you were as kids?

Lost in your whirling contemplations, you nearly missed the ping of an incoming text from Kenma:

"Made it through arrivals. Meet you outside?"

You startled slightly, clutching your carry-on bag as you pivoted towards the exit. Sure enough, there stood Kenma - posture slouched in that trademark listless slouch of his with hands stuffed into the pockets of a mustard yellow hoodie emblazoned with his gaming company's logo.

But beyond that superficially laidback veneer, his penetrating cat-like gaze missed nothing. Those keen amber eyes flickered over every detail of you in one sweeping glance - from your wind-tousled hair down to your ankle boots. A slight furrow creased Kenma's brow, mouth tugging into a barely perceptible frown as if dissatisfied by his visual assessment.

Before you could finish approaching him, he seemed to shake himself minutely from whatever critique had taken place. The corners of his lips quirking up into a lopsided shadow of his former boyish grin.

"Yo," Kenma greeted you with that same trademark laconic inflection even after all these years. "Long flight?"

You simply nodded, still struggling to find your footing and access the right combination of words to respond properly. Up close now, you found yourself momentarily stupefied by just how much Kenma had changed over the separation, yet somehow still manifestly embodied his innately intriguing core essence.

There was an indescribable charged electricity snapping between you two - bristling with poignant nostalgia and thrilling new tension. The corners of Kenma's slanted eyes crinkled fractionally, reflexively interpreting each one of your minute micro expressions with that eerie perceptiveness he always possessed.

"Well let's get you home and settled in, yeah?" he prompted at last when you failed to break the silence.

Nimble fingers feathered across your knuckles, sliding into your grasp before tugging you towards the exit with that same featherlight yet insistent guidance you had grown so accustomed to as kids. Knitting your brows in bemused consternation, you could only nod and allow his silent lead - the first of many unspoken exchanges that threatened to strip away all remaining defenses.

The ride back to Kenma's place was mostly quiet, each of you slipping into familiar contemplative lulls between stretches of idle chitchat and getting reacquainted. You stole sideways glances while stopped at traffic lights - drinking in all the intricate details of his profile in crystalline crisp focus.

The angular, almost severe slash of his jawline and slightly fuller pout to his lower lip. The high sweep of aristocratic cheekbones seamlessly blending into sculpted yet soft edges of his face. Even the prickling roost of silken blond roots already peeking through his two-toned tresses drew your lingering eye.

By the time Kenma smoothly navigated into the underground parking complex of his residential high-rise, you felt dazed and off-kilter as if emerging from the thick miasma of a dream. When had your oldest friend transformed into someone so inexplicably alluring yet unyielding to casual appreciation?

Kenma retrieved your solitary suitcase from the rear hatch, sweeping his hooded gaze over you consideringly through those longish fringe strands. There was a fleeting spark of mischievousness that reminded you so acutely of the Kenma from your childhood days - making your pulse kick up double-time.

"You ready to head in?" He cocked one eyebrow inscrutably. "I've got a feeling you could use a nap from all your...spacing out on the drive."

You flushed slightly at Kenma's acknowledgment of you essentially devouring him with your eyes during the entire commute. Clearing your throat, you mustered a nonchalant shrug.

"A power nap does sound amazingly good right about now," you admitted, falling into step beside him as you navigated the corridors towards the building's elevator bank.

Kenma hummed noncommittally, deft fingers already tapping out a lightning cadence against the side of your suitcase in a gesture unmistakably gaming-adjacent. The old compulsive tic brought a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

You stole a sidelong glance at your oldest friend, wondering what sorts of virtual adventures currently captivated the nimble-minded focus you recalled so vividly from long-winded gaming sessions in his bedroom as kids. So much had changed, yet that inherent core of what made Kenma so uniquely himself clearly persisted.

Once inside his impressively spacious flat, you immediately understood why he had offered to host you instead of booking a generic hotel. The entire open-concept living area seemed expressly appointed to revolve around an imposing, multi-monitor gaming rig complete with a professional-grade broadcasting setup.

Various cat-themed peripherals and an impressive library of neatly displayed physical and digital game collections cluttered nearly every flat surface. You caught your reflection in the smoked glass case enshrining a particularly eye-catching piece of merchandise - anaberrant juxtaposition of the cosmopolitan living space tailored around Kenma's unapologetic video game devotion.

A wry chuckle from behind you made you twist back to face him. The diminutive smile playing across his lips suggested he accurately interpreted your bemused expression.

"I see that look on most people whenever they visit for the first time," Kenma murmured in that rich, honeyed voice of his that you weren't remotely prepared for. "They expect my 'career' to be some sort of immature pipe dream rather than global brand."

You shook your head quickly at the veiled hint of reproach beneath that mild observation. "No, I just...it's exactly the kind of space I always envisioned you creating for yourself, to be honest," you replied sincerely. "I think it's incredible how you've genuinely established this whole lifestyle and identity for yourself completely on your own passions and terms."

Kenma regarded you with a glimmer of pleasant surprise flickering across his striking features before smoothing them back into that familiar half-lidded aloofness. Still, you caught the way his gaze sharpened infinitesimally.

"Well, since you're the only other person who truly grasps my 'lifestyle,' I'm sure I can count on you to make yourself at home." His tongue darted out to wet his lips - a minute gesture you found your focus utterly arrested by for some reason. "The guest suite is just through here."

Amber-gold eyes met yours unflinchingly, sparking with an unspoken invitation to comment. You swallowed thickly but forced yourself to nod, shuffling after Kenma as he turned and began leading you down a dimly lit hallway.

After stowing your luggage, he ushered you into a decadently appointed en suite - complete with a massive walk-in rainfall shower that sent your exhaustion-hazed thoughts careening into rather unbecoming territory. You swiftly refocused as Kenma leaned against the marble vanity, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"Go ahead and get settled however you need," he prompted with a vague gesture around the posh accommodations. "I'll probably be streaming for the next few hours, but you're welcome to hang out once you've recharged."

Inclining his head towards the threshold, Kenma paused just briefly - long enough for you to catch the indescribably weighted undercurrent flickering across his expression before he schooled his features. Then he pivoted, padding out in that signature laidback shuffle while you were left to stare dumbly at the patterns in the granite tile.

As the hot cascade of a shower finally began unwinding the knots of tension from travel, you couldn't ignore the steadily gathering storm of uncertainty swirling within. Part of you instinctively raised guards, preparing for the intense nostalgia and rekindled intimacy of reminiscing with Kenma to open up old wounds you thought had been neatly sutured years ago.

The other part, however - the shamelessly indulgent facet you struggled to repress - eagerly anticipated whatever unspoken electricity seemed to be steadily exerting its gravitational pull.

After luxuriating under the pulsing streams of the walk-in shower until the water ran tepid, you reluctantly toweled off and padded back into the guest suite. You were enveloped in one of the plushest terry cloth robes imaginable as you cinched it securely and paused to survey your temporary accommodations.

Sunlight slanted across the polished hardwood in warm bands, filtering through the gauzy curtains to cast everything in a gilded afternoon glow. Your gaze snagged on the embossed geometric patterns woven through the textured area rug - such an unexpected departure from the stark minimalist aesthetic you'd have imagined Kenma cultivating in his home.

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, you ran fingertips over the intricately carved patterns detailed in the wooden bedframe's footboard. So many thoughtful design touches married throughout the space that exuded a bespoke richness and warmth wholly juxtaposed against the more austere tech-centric common areas.

You couldn't resist trailing further across the plush duvet, indulging in the heavenly glide of high thread-count cotton against your calf. Seriously, how had Kenma assembled such an indulgent oasis within his gaming lair? The simple boyhood recollections you harbored cast everything in a new intriguing light.

Just as you had begun contemplating what else in Kenma's carefully curated world might challenge your established perception of him, a series of rhythmic knocks rapped against the guest suite's door.

"You decent?" His instantly recognizable dulcet tone preceded him by a beat before the door eased open a sliver.

"Of course, come in," you replied automatically, reflexively tugging the plush lapels together.

Kenma slipped through the narrow opening, clad in a long-sleeved shirt emblazoned with stylized cat motifs and a pair of formfitting joggers that embraced lean muscle definition you actively avoided ogling. Shoving his hands into the front pockets, he bobbed his head in an idle suite.

"Figured I'd come check and see if you managed to get some rest."

"More or less," you hedged with a lopsided smile. "Your shower was heavenly for working out some lingering flight stiffness at least."

A faint tinge of color brushed across Kenma's arched cheekbones at the innocuous mention of the shower. Had your imagination gone so utterly to seed that something as simple as—

"Cool, good. I'm all wrapped up with my gaming sessions for the day, if you want to..." he trailed off, adam's apple bobbing minutely before venturing a sidelong look through those burnished lashes. "Or we could just order something for dinner and...I don't know, hang?"

The weight of unspoken implication behind that seemingly casual invitation hit you like a visceral punch, momentarily robbing you of your voice. Instinct shouted to claim the offering, while deeply ingrained reservations around compromising a cherished lifelong friendship threatened to override any forward impulses.

After a protracted pause, you cleared your throat quietly. "Yeah, sounds great." Steadying yourself with a measured inhale, you lifted your chin as a slow smile unfurled across your lips. "I'm famished, so...what are you feeling?"

A muscle in Kenma's jaw ticked fleetingly, eyes glittering for just a moment before blinking back to their trademark heavy-lidded warmth. "I could go for some hot pot...lots of protein. Think you can handle the spice?"

The edges of his mouth curled into an undeniably flirtatious grin that sent your pulse skittering immediately into double-time. You felt the heat flooding your cheeks, but leaned into the pull of his focused magnetism rather than shrinking away.

"Oh, I can handle anything you wanna dish out," You tossed back, surprising yourself with the faint purr underlying your words.

Without looking away, you slowly rose to your feet - allowing the plush robe to slough off one shoulder with deliberately choreographed casualness. Kenma's breath audibly hitched, eyes darkening momentarily in appreciation before his lips parted on a low exhale.

"Is that right? I'll have to remember you said that." His voice dropped into a sin-tinged register that went straight to your core. "We have...all sorts of games to play later."

The unmistakable undercurrent behind his double entendre sent another rush of molten heat cascading through you. This time you responded with nothing but a subtle arch of one brow, staring him down in electrified silence as the air itself seemed to thicken and throb with heated tension.

Until finally Kenma ceded the moment with an almost pained hiss through his teeth before pivoting on his heel. "I'll get that order placed. You might want to slip into something...sturdier."

You suppressed the urge to openly gape at his rapidly retreating form, frozen in the wake of whatever had just viscerally transpired. Of one thing you were abruptly certain - these coming days would be more of a test of endurance than either of you seemed prepared for.

The spice Kenma alluded to was poised to burn you down to ash before you even had a chance to compute the inferno.

The pungent aroma of simmering broth and assorted proteins wafted through the apartment as you settled across from Kenma at the kitchen island. A dizzying array of small plates and dipping sauces had been meticulously arranged, as if this were some elaborate streaming event rather than a casual dinner.

"I may have gone a bit overboard," Kenma admitted, sweeping a hand over the impressive spread with an uncharacteristically sheepish tilt to his mouth. "Old habits and all that."

You couldn't resist letting out a low appreciative whistle. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flexing for your captive audience here."

Grabbing your chopsticks, you deftly plucked a perfectly seared slice of marbled wagyu from the central hot pot, purposefully locking eyes with Kenma as you brought the morsel to your lips. His gaze followed, rapt and laser-focused, as you slipped the tender beef past your parted lips with an involuntary moan of satisfaction.

"You have no idea..." he murmured, low and rough like gravel.

You paused mid-chew, certain your ears had to be playing tricks. But the heated intensity burning behind Kenma's stare left no ambiguity about the undercurrent thrumming between you. Recovering with a coquettish arch of one brow, you reached for one of the small dipping dishes - fingers brushing against the back of his wrist accidentally-on-purpose.

"No, I really don't," you murmured before deliberately dragging your tongue along the plump swell of your bottom lip to collect a stray smear of savory-sweet sauce. "Why don't you elaborate for me?"

A muscle ticked faintly along Kenma's chiseled jawline as his gaze followed the unconscious path of your tongue with rapt fixation. You watched his pupils slowly dilate, then narrow into frozen precision as his lips parted on a harsh exhalation.

For an endless stretch, the thickening silence seemed to yawn between you, weighted with the echo of your suggestive challenge. Unsure whether to double down or backpedal, you felt suspended in a crystalline stasis awaiting Kenma's response like it held the power to upend your world.

"Well, well...look who's developed a bold side in their old age," he finally rumbled in that sinfully textured timbre you weren't remotely prepared to withstand. His smirk sharpened fractionally as one elegant fingertip traced the rim of a small ceramic dish filled with delicately pink pickled ginger. "Trust me, I have plenty to...elaborate on, if you think you can keep up."

Your breath hitched faintly as he raised the dish to his mouth, sweeping his tongue with excruciating indolence across the glistening ginger to collect the tangy juices. He held your widening stare hostage as he hollowed his cheeks around the soft flesh suggestively before withdrawing with a quietly filthy sound.

"How's the heat treating you so far?" Kenma practically purred after a considering pause. "Because it's about to get much...much more intense."

You could only swallow thickly, wishing you could play the consummate picture of unruffled nonchalance like he did. Instead, you shifted unconsciously in your seat - tormented by an uncomfortable tightness in your jeans from the undeniable pull of Kenma's molten confidence.

For his part, the setter-turned-streamer simply watched you steadily over the rim of his beer glass as he sipped. Seemingly amused by your flustered state and secure in the knowledge he'd already seized the upper hand in whatever game stood to unfurl between you over the coming days.

Before either of you could press the heated boundaries further, a strident chirp echoed from the hallway - effectively shattering the thick tension with its jarring intrusion.

Kenma quirked one brow in irritation before rising smoothly to his feet, shooting you one last unreadable look from beneath his lashes as he stalked off to retrieve whatever device was clamoring for his attention.

Left alone, you huffed out a sharp exhale, remnants of desire still prickling across your heated skin like a brand. Muttering a soft curse under your breath, you steadied your racing pulse and turned your focus back towards the array of food with something adjacent to grim determination.

One way or another, you were going to wrestle back control of this game before it devolved into utter capitulation to the hypnotically smoldering aura Kenma had somehow mastered in your absence.

Little did you realize you had already resigned yourself to becoming the moth irresistibly fixated upon his flame...

The following week passed in a heated haze of building frustration and rapidly fraying restraint.

No matter how innocuous the interaction - lounging together on the sofa while Kenma orchestrated one of his streaming sessions, accompanying him on idyllic forays across Tokyo to revisit childhood haunts, even the mundane domesticity of sharing meals - an inescapable undercurrent of restless tension thrummed like a livewire between you.

Countless moments where your gazes would lock in a protracted stare; fingertips "accidentally" brushing along exposed skin and triggering full-body shockwaves resonating bone-deep. The perpetual push-and-pull of flirtation somehow elevating errant touches and otherwise innocuous exchanges into something hungering and profane.

Kenma no longer bothered to disguise the appreciative trail of his penetrating stare roving across your form whenever you bent or stretched. You quickly acclimated to the hot skim of his focus mapping every curve and dip overtly, pupils dilating with shamelessly burning desire he didn't seem inclined to sate.

For your part, you began unconsciously rising to match that unhurried confidence - boldly regarding Kenma's lithe, powerful physique with the same sensuous appreciation. Emboldened by how his throat would noticeably tighten every time your eyes dropped to linger across the vee of his collarbones, hips subtly canting forward whenever he sprawled in those fitted joggers that clung like a second skin.

Beyond the escalating physicality, you found yourself captivated by Kenma's rare loquaciousness about himself more than anything. Unburdened from your weighty history, he began opening up in quiet retrospective anecdotes about his passage into adulthood, steadily dismantling your preconceptions about his insular nature.

Like how he had secretly sponsored a children's e-sports program to guide underprivileged kids into careers in the burgeoning gaming industry. Or the surprising revelation that he regularly worked pro-bono with speech pathologists to design specialized voice controls for disability accessibility.

This was a side of Kenma's generosity and altruism towards the community fostering his career that you never could have envisioned. And with each newy facet, you found yourself plunging deeper under his unrelenting pull - utterly infatuated with who this remarkable man had become.

He simply chuckled, low and throaty, each time you gushed over some fresh depth unveiled. Absorbing your unrestrained awe and esteem with the same private relish as whenever you "inadvertently" provoked him into undisguised want. The heady combination only fanned the flames of simmering tension blazing between you.

It was on the eighth night sequestered together when Kenma decided to press the boundaries once more.

You were sprawled on the plush area rug before the oversized sectional, cycling through television menus in a vain attempt to pick something suitable to watch. A frustrated huff punched from your chest as you reached the end of yet another recommendations category that failed to inspire.

"Everything looks so mindless and forgettable nowadays," you mused, half to yourself. "What happened to real stories being told?"

A low chuckle resonated from behind you, vaguely Kenma-scented air puffing across the nape of your neck. You hadn't even registered his approach until his muscular form settled on the rug beside you with only a whisper of displaced fabric. The gold-green kaleidoscope of his eyes practically glowed with wicked mischief at your obvious failure.

"Well if you crave imaginative narratives so badly, maybe you'd fare better diving into a real fantasy scenario instead."

The rich velvet of Kenma's timbre immediately snapped every iota of your focus towards him. Your eyebrows lifted quizzically as he leaned in incrementally closer, fringe of silky hair feathering along your temple.

"What did you have in mind?"

Another low rumble ghosted your hairline as Kenma hummed almost inaudibly. "Let's just say...I have a distinctly illicit form of entertainment that may require your unbiased opinion."

Intrigue sparked low in your abdomen at the deliciously unspoken implications behind his words. Before you could fully decide whether or not to indulge his transparent flirtation, Kenma was already rising to his feet once more - extending one elegant hand down towards you in silent invitation.

Scarcely daring to breathe, you allowed him to pull you upright before following his lead towards the hallway. You pretended not to notice how his palm scorched the naked small of your back through the thin cotton tanktop as he ushered you across the darkened threshold into his inner sanctum.

A hushed, ambient glow bathed Kenma's bedroom in shades of moody twilight as you stepped over the threshold. Various pieces of gaming memorabilia and framed promotional artwork adorned the walls, creating an insulated atmosphere that existed in a world entirely unto itself.

Without preamble, Kenma crossed to the sleek desktop monitor setup, fingers already flying in a flurry of keystrokes and clicks as he booted up whatever "illicit entertainment" he had teased. You hovered uncertainly in the center of the space, casting furtive glances around the dimly lit sanctuary that emanated pure Kenma energy.

"Have a seat," he prompted without turning around - as if acutely aware of your momentary hesitation. "Get comfortable."

You cleared your throat but obeyed, carefully perching on the edge of Kenma's massivebed. The plush duvet conformed luxuriously to your weight, upholstered in some sort of sleek microfiber that reminded you of a cat's velveteen coat. Inexplicably, you found yourself burrowing your fingers through the decadent bedding's nap while studying Kenma's form in sidelong profile.

The muted blue-white glow from his monitors caressed the elegant contours of his face, shadowing the regal sweep of cheekbones and strong jawline in stark chiaroscuro. You marveled at just how much he had evolved from the reserved, rail-thin youth of your memories into the tantalizingly statuesque man before you now. One defined by an aura of languid intensity and assured command over whatever scenario unfolded around him.

As if he could sense the weight of your rapt scrutiny, Kenma angled towards you incrementally - chin dipping just enough to pin you momentarily with the full smolder of that heavy-lidded golden stare. His lush mouth curved into the barest ghost of a smirk, clearly relishing whatever discovery had your undivided attention so thoroughly enraptured.

"Second thoughts about seeing how the other half indulges their fantasies?" he murmured, pitching his already simmering timbre at a register that seemed scientifically engineered to inflame your senses.

An involuntary shiver rippled through you despite the heated flush creeping up your neck. Swallowing hard, you mirrored the slow, molten sweep of Kenma's eyes with one of your own - unabashed in drinking in each lean, corded muscle shifting beneath his fitted tee.

"Not a chance," you rasped, proud of how steady you managed to keep your voice despite the electrifying lash of his focus. "I'm the one who thrives on having my boundaries thoroughly...obliterated."

Kenma held your weighted stare for one suspended heartbeat longer before his tongue slipped out to wet his lower lip with unconscious sensuality. You mirrored the visceral action, entirely mesmerized by the naked want flickering across his strikingly beautiful features in that crystalline moment.

Then he seemed to resettle his composure like an unshakeable monolith, turning back towards the computer monitors as he clicked open some file directory. You subtly repositioned yourself more comfortably on the bed, back canting against the sturdy headboard while determinedly ignoring each tantalizing glimpse of scarlet duvet bunched around you in disheveled invitation.

A few more staccato keystrokes and suddenly one of the monitors flared to luminescent life - the unmistakable refrains of an overly saccharine J-pop opening sequence blaring through Kenma's speakers.

The game loaded on Kenma's monitor, intro music at odds with the charged atmosphere. You watched raptly as a buxom anime avatar appeared - her features and proportions eerily…familiar.

"Kenma..." You began, then trailed off, unsure if you wanted confirmation of what seemed obvious.

He didn't respond right away, deftly navigating the opening scenarios with deft keystrokes and clicks. Only when the digital woman began making coy, suggestive comments did you see him tense imperceptibly.

You studied the sharp lines of his profile, the slight parting of his lips as he deliberately avoided your questioning gaze. Finally, he exhaled - the sound low and fraught.

"I've had this commissioned mod for a while now," Kenma murmured, finally glancing your way with molten eyes. "From certain...unflattering angles, she captures some essence of you that's proven...distracting."

Your mouth went dry as you processed his oblique admission. Kenma had essentially crafted a digital embodiment of you to indulge his fantasies privately. The thought was overwhelmingly, incendiary.

"Show me," you heard yourself reply, proud of how steady your tone remained.

Kenma exhaled slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as the digital avatar paused mid-scenario. His eyes cut towards you, burning intensity simmering behind those heavy lids.

"This next interaction gets...decidedly more intimate," he murmured, a muscle ticking along his chiseled jaw. "Are you sure you want me to continue?"

You held his searing gaze, giving a small nod. Kenma's lips parted on a ragged exhale before he continued guiding the game. The simulated woman began uttering breathless endearments, describing in graphic detail the acts she longed for her partner to indulge. You felt heat prickling across your skin as Kenma's jaw went taut, his own arousal visibly kindling.

"Look at her, begging for it so shamelessly," he rasped, not looking at the screen. His smoldering eyes bored into you. "But she doesn't even begin to fully capture the reality of how intoxicating you are."

Your breath hitched at the undisguised yearning that threaded his deep velvet tone. Kenma's chest rose and fell rapidly, desire and restraint wrestling across his striking features.

"To have you panting my name..." He continued roughly. "Writhing against me as I finally make good on every heated fantasy..."

A low, guttural sound tumbled from his parted lips as he abruptly shoved back from the desk. In two strides, he towered over you - an inscrutable, blazing force looming above where you sat rooted to the bed. You could only gaze up, up at him, dizzy with spiraling need.

Then Kenma simply...moved.

One moment, you were shakily inhaling his earthy, spice-tinged scent. The next, the universe distilled to the scalding slide of his mouth possessively claiming yours. A guttural rumble reverberated from deep within his chest as you eagerly opened for the fervent sweep of his tongue.

Any last vestiges of restraint shattered irreparably.

You clung to the sinewy lines of Kenma's back as he walked you further up the bed without relinquishing his devouring kiss. Finally breaking just long enough to gaze upon you with eyes guttering like banked embers, before swooping down to map every exposed inch of feverish skin with a desperate, open-mouthed reverence.

Every scorching path of his tongue and teeth left you arching helplessly against him, hands clutching greedily at the powerful lines of his frame. The sensation of him, warm and solid and overwhelming, left your pulse careening into double-time.

Then one leanly muscled thigh slid between yours, applying the barest hint of pressure that threatened to shatter you. You moaned his name, hips instinctively canting against him in search of sweet relief.

Kenma merely growled - a predatory, primal sound - before seizing your wrists and pinning them above your head. His smoldering stare met yours, pupils dilated until his eyes resembled two obsidian pools ringed in liquid fire.

"I can feel just how badly you need this," he rasped, a note of disbelief threading through his tone. "How you're fucking dripping for me."

You gasped, shuddering as the blunt force of his thigh pressed harder against your aching core. Then his free hand dipped below the waistband of your jeans, sliding sinuously through the slick arousal pooling there.

Kenma hissed out a curse as his fingertips stroked feather-light patterns across your throbbing clit. Each touch sent white-hot sparks spiraling through you, a deliciously building pressure that left you whimpering incoherently.

"Fuck, I could play with your gorgeous cunt all night."

Kenma punctuated his darkly erotic admission with the sinuous slide of one long finger inside you. Your walls immediately clenched around him, back bowing with the delicious intrusion.

He released a low groan, adding a second finger to the first as your hips rocked against his hand. He held your gaze, molten and hungry as he pumped his fingers mercilessly in and out of your soaking heat.

"You're taking me so fucking beautifully," he purred, his free hand skimming the hem of your shirt up just enough toexpose the supple curve of your breasts. "So eager for every bit of pleasure I can give you."

Your nipples pebbled immediately, aching for his touch. Kenma leaned down, tongue flicking the straining peak of one sensitive nub before drawing it between his lips. You keened as the sensation arrowed directly to the molten pool of need building within.

Kenma hummed low in approval, the vibration rippling across your nipple and sending fresh shudders coursing through you. Then he was curling his fingers, stroking a spot so deliciously deep you saw stars.

Your entire world collapsed into the single point of Kenma's relentless thrusts, the maddening flick of his tongue and the torturous suction of his mouth against your breasts. Every nerve ending crackled and burned with the electric friction he stoked higher, higher, until—

A sob tore from your throat as you felt Kenma slide his fingers out of you. You were left trembling, utterly wrecked and bereft - a string of pleas and curses tumbling incoherently from your lips.

"Please, I-I was so close."

Kenma gazed down, lips swollen and reddened from his relentless kisses. "Don't worry, I'm nowhere near finished with you."

With that, he began unbuttoning your jeans, slowly easing the denim and dampened fabric of your panties down your trembling legs. Your entire body sang at the feeling of being utterly bare before him.

Then his eyes widened, a low sound like a snarl vibrating from his chest as he took in the sight of your slick, glistening cunt. You flushed at the unbridled hunger reflected there, the knowledge that it was because of him - his touch, his words, his body - that had you absolutely soaked.

Without preamble, Kenma was on his knees between your legs, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as his mouth descended. You cried out at the first hot swipe of his tongue, hands instinctively burying themselves in the silky softness of his hair.

Kenma groaned at the sensation, the sound resonating directly against your clit. His lips sealed around the swollen bundle of nerves, the faintest graze of his teeth sending fresh spasms of pleasure wracking through you.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think - every fiber of your being a raw, exposed livewire crackling under Kenma's unhurried attention. The languid drag of his tongue as it plunged into your aching depths, the obscene sounds as he sucked your clit. Every sensation was a blissful torment that had you bucking against his face, desperate for more.

Kenma seemed to relish in your uninhibited abandon. He tightened his hold, pulling you even closer against his ravenous mouth. A keening cry tore from your lips as his tongue fucked you mercilessly, lapping up every bit of your honeyed arousal.

You felt your walls begin to flutter, the molten pressure building with every swipe of Kenma's wicked tongue. Just as you were about to come undone, his mouth pulled away.

A broken whimper tumbled from your lips as he began kissing a slow, scorching path up the quivering plane of your stomach, across the dip between your breasts. All the while, his hands caressed the heated flesh of your inner thighs, teasing so close to the slick heat throbbing for him.

"Not yet," he rumbled, lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. "I need to feel your pretty cunt squeezing around my cock before you come."

He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt off, revealing a chiseled torso rippling with lean, powerful muscles. The sight sent a fresh surge of need pulsing through you.

Kenma reached for the waistband of his joggers, shoving the fabric down with agonizing indolence. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy and dripping. Your breath caught at the sight.

With a low groan, he palmed the rigid length, his thumb spreading the bead of precum at his swollen tip. He held your gaze as he stroked himself, lips parting on a ragged exhale.

"See what you do to me," he gritted, the corded muscles of his forearm flexing. "My beautiful, perfect girl."

The unadulterated reverence in his voice sent a surge of heat racing through you. Kenma's nostrils flared, a growl resonating deep in his chest.

"You're practically begging to have my cock stretching that tight cunt," he continued roughly, leaning down until the molten tip of his length grazed the seam of your soaking entrance. "I could take you right now."

A shudder coursed through you as his head nudged against your throbbing clit. Your hips arched instinctively, seeking the delicious friction. Kenma let out a low, pained sound.

"That's it, fuck yourself on me," he growled, eyes blazing with a possessive, predatory lust.

Your eyes rolled back, a moan spilling from your lips as his shaft dragged through your soaked folds. Every inch of your skin felt scorched, hypersensitive - the air itself charged with electricity.

Then Kenma was reaching down, lining the swollen tip of his length against your aching entrance. His hand gripped the back of your thighs, holding you open as he pressed forward.

You bit back a cry, back arching as his cock stretched you inch by delicious inch. Your walls fluttered and clenched, struggling to accommodate his girth. But Kenma kept going, a low stream of praise falling from his lips as his hands skimmed soothing patterns across your trembling thighs.

"That's it, I've got you. Such a good girl, taking every fucking inch."

A moan slipped from your lips as he bottomed out, the sensation of his thick cock filling you utterly overwhelming. His hips rocked slowly, allowing you to adjust.

You gripped the sheets, struggling to stay tethered to reality. The feeling of Kenma's length buried to the hilt, his hands gripping your thighs, his smoldering gaze pinning you. It was all too much, but still not enough.

"Please," you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.

Kenma's nostrils flared, the tendons of his throat flexing as he swallowed hard. Then he began thrusting, each stroke a searing slide of friction. The heels of his palms dug into your waist as he pinned you with his weight, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest.

Your moans filled the air, interspersed with the slick, filthy sounds of his cock pumping in and out of your aching cunt. You writhed, helpless beneath the delicious onslaught, his length stroking places that left you breathless.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Kenma rasped, his grip on your hips tightening. "And look how beautifully you take my cock."

A flush bloomed across your heated skin, a delicious ache building with every thrust. You whimpered as Kenma's thumb began circling your swollen clit, the added sensation driving you to the brink.

"I can feel how close you are," he rumbled, the molten intensity in his gaze unwavering. "Give me everything, sweet girl."

A shudder wracked through you, your walls fluttering as you teetered on the edge. Kenma's thumb moved faster, his thrusts picking up a punishing rhythm.

"Come for me."

Your vision blurred, ecstasy crashing over you in wave after wave of rapture. A cry tore from your lips, back arching as your pussy clenched and squirted around his thick length. Kenma let out a guttural groan, his strokes growing erratic as his own release approached.

You moaned, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock throbbing and swelling inside you. Kenma's head fell back, eyes closed as his thrusts became frenzied. His jaw clenched, a ragged groan escaping his parted lips as he finally came.

His length pulsed inside you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum. You shuddered, the sensation pushing you into a second, unexpected climax. Kenma growled, thrusting through both of your releases until you were utterly spent.

You lay there panting, struggling to catch your breath as Kenma's weight settled beside you. He reached out, trailing a fingertip down the slope of your cheek, the hollow of your throat. You shivered, still hypersensitive.

"Beautiful," he murmured, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.

A soft hum slipped from your mouth as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. You sighed, content to melt into the deliciously sated haze that permeated the aftermath.

Then, Kenma's voice sounded again, low and rumbling from deep within his chest:

"You should move in."

Your eyes flew open, breath hitching as the full import of his words hit you. Kenma's arms tightened, a subtle tension radiating across his powerful frame.

"I know it’s selfish, but I wasn’t planning on letting you leave if I’d worked up the courage to confess to you," he continued quietly, his breath warm against your neck. "You don't have to, but—"

"Yes."

The word slipped from your lips before you even had time to fully process the decision. But the moment it hung suspended in the charged silence, you knew the answer was inevitable.

"Yes?" Kenma echoed, something like wonder threading through his voice.

You twisted to meet his gaze, the faintest flicker of hope reflected there. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, a giddy warmth blossoming across your chest.

"Yes," you repeated, punctuating the word with a gentle kiss to his parted lips. "There's no way in hell I'm leaving you now."

Kenma hummed, a slow smile of his own curving his mouth as he pulled you even closer. You felt his lips brush the shell of your ear, his words a warm murmur of contentment:

"Good. Because you're not going anywhere."

[watchilove]

LAURENT FERRIER Classic Micro-Rotor Magnetic Green

LAURENT FERRIER Classic Micro-Rotor Magnetic Green

[astrocafecoffee]

• Webb(3041) persona chart notes / your online presence •

✨ For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

🔥 MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~~~~~ENJOY~~~~~~~~~~~~

💅🏻 Uranus in 3rd house/ gemini indicates sudden changes in your online presence, such as a shift in your social media persona or sudden increase in online visibility. You may recieve unexpected messages , requests or opportunities through social media/ online channels.

💅🏻 Uranus in 6th house/ Virgo means you may be drawn to helping others through technology,/ social media or supporting causes that align with your values. You can gain fame through health related blogs, or showing your daily healthy routine in your social media platforms, like how you take care of your body, mind and soul.

💅🏻 I have seen many good astrologers often have Pluto/ Uranus 12th house. They inspire many peoples. Generally, it can also mean native's esoteric vibe often attract people.

💅🏻 Libra / leo/pisces mc is a great indicator of being famous for your charm and aesthetics. They naturally attracts people. They can go viral in a short amount of time. In general people see them as an "angel".

💅🏻 Gemini or 3°, 15°,27° in mc / webb conjunct mercury is great for who works in public speaking sector/ musicians/ motivational speaker.

💅🏻 juno 1st house/ 7th house/ aspecting ascendant means your spouse can have a strong online presence or your relationship in general can bring fame.

💅🏻 Groom / Briede conjunct northnode can mean your fs is some sort of influencer ( can be micro / nano / or at a large level).

💅🏻 Varuna conjunct sun can bring worldwide fame. Fame is literally is your destiny. But you have to work hard for it.

💅🏻 Vertex conjunct webb is a another strong indicator and is self explanatory.

💅🏻 Jupiter in 9th house can indicate you can influence people from all over the world. They will learn from you / you are a great teacher for them. You attracts foreign people the most.

💅🏻 mars in 8th house/ scorpio/ 1st house mars can mean people sextualise you a lot and wants to connect with you sexually. You attracts people with your strong magnetic aura and they starts fantasize about you.🔥

💅🏻 Neptune aspecting ascendant/ in 1st house/ Pisces rising means you radiates magnetic aura and looks angelic in your respective social media platforms. It can also mean people sees duality in your character.

💅🏻 Sagittarius rising peoples may be known for their direct and honest communication style. You may be enthusiastic about online learning, webinars and digital workshops. Can gain fame through travel vlogs.

💅🏻 Fama in 1st house/ in leo biggest Indicator of being famous. If you are not famous now , then I strongly recommending you to start something with your specialization area.

💅🏻Lilith conjunct descendant - people see your relationship as intense , passionate and potentially transformative. It can also mean others may find you mysterious and intriguing , drawn to your enigmatic presence.

💅🏻 1st house stellium - your online presence maybe complex , diverse, and expressive. You may posses a range of skills and talents that you showcase online , making you a versatile digital presence. Your online communication style maybe confident and engaging.

💅🏻2nd house stellium - your online presence is directly tied to your sense of self worth and value. You can have multiple streams of online income or a talent for manifesting digital abundance. You may possess a talent for digital entrepreneurship and innovation.

💅🏻3rd house stellium - you excel at connecting with others online, fostering meaningful relationships and collaborations. You quickly learn and adapt to new digital tools , platforms and software. You may have a talent for crafting compelling narratives and sharing them online. Great public speaker indicator.

💅🏻4th house stellium - you may prefer to keep your online life private and separate from public scrutiny. It can also mean being a well known healthcare specialist. Your online relationships with family members or close friends maybe incredibly strong.

💅🏻5th house stellium - you may have talent for creation of digital content, such as art music or writing. You are a natural online performer. Your digital presence inspires others , sparking creativity and joy. You may have a flair for online dating and digital flirting.

💅🏻 6th house stellium - you are a master of online time management, using tools and apps to stay organized. Your advice on maintaining a healthy work-life balance and prioritising self care resonates with many. You can start your health care blog / fitness blog, it can bring you fame.

💅🏻7th house stellium - your ability to connect with others online and build a professional network is exceptionally. You attract meaningful connections and relationships through online. It also indicates your relationship with your fs may bring some social media presence.

💅🏻 8th house stellium - your online guidance may helps others navigate life's darkest moments. Your talent for courageously adress controversial subjects online, sheding lights on sensitive topics can bring you fame. Your online presence can inspire others to embraced transformation and rebirth.

💅🏻9th house stellium - your vast knowledge in your specialized field ( higher education) can bring you strong online presence. Your digital presence can motivates others to pursue their passion and dreams. You can attract many foreigners through your strong online presence.

💅🏻10th house stellium - literally, your online presence can earn you widespread recognition and respect. Any Career field you are in , just work hard. You are skilled at maintaining a professional online image and reputation. Your online presence can offer valueable guidance and mentorship to others.

💅🏻11th house stellium - you can gain fame most easily through internet than others. Your digital expertise and adaptability can make you a leader in your own field. Your online engagement mainly focuses on making a positive impact and helping others.

💅🏻12th house stellium - 1st of all you are very creative. Your creative knowledge can literally bring you recognition through social media. Your online presence can embody higher status of consciousness. You can inspire others through your art , music or writing. People may see you as a literary "angel". Your aura is magnetic to others.

💅🏻 Europa(52) asteroid in 1st house can bring massive fame and recognition through social media.

💅🏻 populus ( 8647) in leo / 5°, 17°,29°/ in 5th house/ 1st house means so popular and well known in social media.

💅🏻 Mireille ( 594) in 10th house conjunct mc - easily gaining attention in social media platforms through your career. This asteroid can tell you in which area you will gain most attention from.

💅🏻 you can check industria asteroid (389) to check which profession/ career can bring you fame the most.

💅🏻 Glo ( 3267) in 1st house - the glo in your appearance can attract public.

💅🏻starr( 4150) in your chart can tell you where you shine the most.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~END~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading ❣️

- PIKO ❤️

[puranami]

✿ It's The Little Things ✿

A/N: My first time writing! Admittedly I'm very nervous, but also so excited!! Kept it simple with a small headcanon list to start, but I tried to write a decent amount for each point, and I hope that everyone is in character :0 Posting at 4am because I have no control over my life...

Summary: Little relationship things with the Strawhats. Can be interpreted as the anime/manga or the live action version of the character.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji

Content: SFW, G/N reader, slightest hint of angst in Sanji's part, but otherwise, pure unadulterated fluff! ✿

(Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/Corazon, Doflamingo)

Luffy

✿ He absentmindedly draws shapes on your leg, back, or whatever part of you is there as you sit together, whether you are watching the waves, or listening to one of Usopp's stories. He is almost magnetic in the way he ends up attached to you. If you're not feeling it, he will do his best to keep his hands to himself, but as soon as his focus shifts onto anything else, they're back on you, drawing little clouds and hearts. He tried, he really did!

✿ This bottomless pit inhales food like it's going out of fashion, but, much to the bewilderment of the rest of the crew, he will actually feed you from his plate as he eats, even though you are eating your own food. It may be a case of "1 for you, 5 for me," but it's almost instinctive for him; he's sharing something he's passionate about with you, and making sure that, in his eyes, you are happy, healthy and strong. He values your wellbeing more than food; you are one of the most important things in his life.

✿ Despite how chaotic he is in every aspect of his life, his presence brings you to a state of complete peace, even when he's yelling about whatever currently has his attention. Just knowing he is there comforts you in a way that nothing, and no one else can. As long as Luffy is there, being the same old Luffy he always is, you know everything will be alright in the end, and if it isn't alright, well, it isn't the end yet.

Zoro

✿ He always places a comforting hand on your head when he passes by, or ends up in the same general space as you. It's his version of a hug, a reassuring touch that he is there, and that he's happy to see you. Zoro is very subtle with his affection, at least in public, but even when it's just the two of you, he automatically defaults to the head pat. It comforts him as much as it does you, and the simple action alone conveys his feelings far better than he ever could with words.

✿ You both love silently observing everything going on around you, and it's such a comfortable silence. You just enjoy each others company while watching the world go by, with Zoro also keeping an eye out for any threats, as he does. Sometimes you end up passing silent judgement on what you see, and you have both developed this uncanny ability to gossip without saying a single word. It's honestly unnerving at times, but you are just so familiar with each others micro-expressions that it's second nature.

✿ Insults are terms of endearment. If anyone else called either of you such things, all hell would break loose - swords drawn, blood spilt, bodies hit the floor, the whole song and dance. It actually started out as a form of deflection, with both of you being far too stubborn to admit any feelings were there, even to yourselves; "No, I don't like you, shitstain, I tolerate you." - "Whatever helps you sleep at night, arseface." As you connected though, it just became your thing, and you love seeing who can come up with the funniest insults. Zoro is surprisingly creative in this regard.

Nami

✿ Nami has a habit of fixing your clothes and hair if something is out of place. It can seem overbearing to others, but she knows you appreciate the gesture. She spent years putting up walls to defend herself, and this is a safe way for her to have a little moment alone with you, giving you gentle little touches without revealing to the world just how important you are to her. It is a very grounding experience for both of you, and you end up doing the same for her on the rare occasion that she isn't completely flawless. She may purposely put things out of place so you have the opportunity to fix something too.

✿ She has an eye for the finer things, and loves getting you little trinkets, and especially pieces of jewellery, which often match or pair with hers, like pendants that fit together to make a whole shape, and such. Just don't ask her where she got them; "Shhh, you don't need to worry about that." All that matters is that you now have a tangible connection to each other, no matter how close, or far apart you are.

✿ Another person who relishes in comfortable silence. Of course you love chatting with each other, and often do so later into the night than you intended. Nami is very quick-witted and your shared snark is always so enjoyable! But it's the moments when you are doing your own thing together, basking in the warmth of that closeness that brings the most joy. Every so often, you will share something interesting or amusing, depending on what you're doing, but you always return to that silence. It's very domestic.

Usopp

✿ You both end up in regular fits of giggles, that grow into raucous laughter, before devolving into the sounds of various suffocating wildlife, which only fuels the hilarious fire. He doesn't even have to say anything at times; he just has a look, and as soon as he catches your eye with it, you absolutely lose it. The amount of nonsensical inside jokes you have is absurd in itself.

✿ Ever the storyteller, Usopp will wind down the day with you relaxing under the stars, telling you fantastical stories about the impossible feats of the great 'Captain Usopp.' His creativity and imagination are something you greatly admire, and as much as you try to stay awake to appreciate those qualities, the comfort he brings has you dropping off every time. He'll carry you to bed most nights, but sometimes he can only manage to drag you around like a corpse he's trying to hide, and he'll end up waking you up laughing about it.

✿ You automatically link your little fingers whenever you are close enough to. It doesn't even register half of the time, only realising when you need that hand or try to go your separate ways. When this happens, providing there isn't anything that needs your urgent attention, you like to dramatize your parting, playing up that this is the most painful moment of your lives! "Don't you dare let go, Usopp! We can both make it out of this alive!" - "I'm so sorry, I can't hold on any longer, and I refuse to drag you down with me." - "No! Don't say that!" - "I love you so much, but you need to let me go..." Leading to you unlinking your fingers, and exaggerated fake cries of anguish. It annoys everyone around you immensely.

Sanji

✿ You shamelessly flirt with each other, making everyone around you uncomfortable, groaning at how painful it is. You weren't together when you started playing this romantic game of chicken, giving back everything Sanji threw at you, and then some, but once you figured your feelings out, you actually developed it into a legitimate game where you attempt to be as sickening and obnoxious as possible. If there is no one grimacing, angrily telling you both to pack it in, or simply leaving the room; you aren't flirting enough. There is a points system, and you're currently in the lead. Sanji ends up caving over the things you say, and his brain loses the ability to form words, let alone string them together in a coherent sentence.

✿ Sanji always leaves a drink and a bite to eat for you to wake up to, since he isn't there in person, having to wake up much earlier to prepare the food for the day. Growing up in a restaurant, early starts are just part of his natural rhythm, so it doesn't bother him, but sometimes you try to wake up with him to at least watch the sunrise together, before going back to bed for a couple more hours. He cherishes those mornings, and there is always an extra spring in his step on those days.

✿ He takes every opportunity he can to share a glance and a warm smile, a gentle touch of your hands, or a chaste kiss with you. They are agonisingly brief moments, but Sanji needs them to get him through the day, otherwise he would just cling to you, and neither of you would get anything done! Unknown to you, these moments are also his way of reminding himself that you chose him over everyone else, that he is loved unconditionally, and that he is enough, without having to, in his opinion, burden you with his insecurities. He'll open up to you one day, and you will be able to give him verbal affirmations along with everything else~

[dragonroilz]

lore written by Ccmaci:

She used to be your typical low brow Karen, but then she tripped into the rabbit hole of really fringe conspiracy. She didn't trust America to train her for the coming thermal nuclear crisis cause they put steroids in the military's food that down the line will turn their children into sleeper-agent-zombies, and she doesn't go to foreign governments because when you get your picture taken for a passport, the flash from the camera imprints your Social Security Number into your brain, a number she believes decodes the subluminal messaging in fast-food commercials that make you want to not question the yearly 0.50 cent price raises for a burger (burgers which are laced with micro-pathogens that cause you to love the concept of being called in for jury duty, obviously).

The only place that was safe place to acquire military training was [insert fake county name here], a legally unrecognized country off the coast of Alaska, with a population of less than 200 people. Obviously, all boats are rigged with ice-berg attracting magnets which go off incase an American hasn't had their daily intake of jury duty micro-pathogens, so swam the coast of Canada as to avoid crossing the boarder where she'd likely be asked to give the Canadian government a sample of her blood (cause we all know what horrors Canadian's can commit with 2 liters of blood from a woman born south of the global hemisphere).

Anyways, so she makes it to the unrecognized country, and thankfully they let her into their militia cause SHE GOT JACKED FROM LITERALLY SWIMMING FROM WASHINGTON TO ALASKA. Obviously she did her homework before this, and was already pretty knowledgeable on basic military concepts like rocket jumping, so this was really just to round out the edges on her proficiency's (that's what she thinks, in reality she really needed this training to be competent lol).

Sadly, after discovering the unrecognized country was literally planning thermal-nuclear-warfare, she decided to leave Alaska, which strangely after she did, all evidence of that legally-unrecognized country ceased to exist. She was later picked up by Mann-Co after being coerced into thinking that she was stopping the enemy from furthering the goals of the shadow-government-fast-food-conglomerate, and as been working with the fem-mercs ever since.

similar to how the mercs lie to normal soldier about all being american, the female mercs lie to female soldier about various beliefs like how they're totally not all vaccinated and all of the rations delivered to them are definitely not inspected by the government. shes particularly distrustful of the scout and medic, the former being a borderline material gorl, and the latter being involved with more than questionable medical practices.

[ellenhenryart]

(via "Yes Chef Micro Shorts Funny Memes" Magnet for Sale by ellenhenry)