#you want to exercise but you only want to do that by dancing to musical soundtracks?

[dinosaur-mayonnaise]

you’ve heard of do it scared. now get ready for do it cringe.

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Roxette - The Look 1989

"The Look" is a song by pop duo Roxette; Sweden's second-best-selling music act after ABBA. It was released in early 1989 as the fourth single from their second studio album, Look Sharp! (1988). The album was an immediate commercial success in their home country, spending seven weeks at number one on the Swedish Albums Chart. "The Look" was written by Per Gessle as an exercise while learning how to operate the Ensoniq ESQ-1 synthesizer he had recently purchased, using a repeated A–G–D bass line as the song's core. The track's sixteenth-note rhythm was inspired by the work of ZZ Top. The original title was "He's Got the Look", with the lyrics using male pronouns. Gessle said this was done because he initially wanted Marie Fredriksson to sing the track. Both he and EMI Sweden had chosen to highlight Fredriksson as Roxette's lead vocalist. However, when recording the demo, Gessle realised the song "didn't fit her style that well, so I had a go and it sounded OK."

The singles from Look Sharp! at the time were only released in Sweden, Germany and France. However, an American exchange student from Minnesota named Dean Cushman returned from Sweden and gave his copy of the album to his local Top 40 radio station, KDWB-FM in Minneapolis. The station's program director Brian Phillips initially ignored Cushman's request to play a song from the album, leaving the CD unplayed in his office for several weeks. Phillips eventually listened to it after learning Cushman had come to the office requesting the return of his CD. Immediately impressed by the album's opening track, "The Look" was played by the station for the first time on US radio less than an hour later, and the response from listeners was overwhelmingly positive; the station immediately began receiving phone calls to replay the track.

KDWB began distributing the track to their sister radio operations, sending 500 copies to other stations throughout the United States. EMI America promptly signed the duo to a recording contract as a result of the airplay. The label had previously rejected Roxette as "unsuitable for the American market". The song had already entered the top fifty of the Billboard Hot 100 before official promotion began, peaking at number one on the chart eight weeks later. This made "The Look" the third number one single by a Swedish act on the Billboard Hot 100, following Blue Swede's "Hooked on a Feeling" (poll #152) in 1974 and ABBA's "Dancing Queen" in 1976.

The track went on to top the charts in 25 countries. It spent three weeks atop the New Zealand Singles Chart, and six weeks at number one in Australia, where it was certified platinum for sales in excess of 70,000 copies. It also topped the charts throughout Scandinavia. The song spent five weeks at number one in West Germany, and an additional five weeks at number two. It was a massive success in Spain and Switzerland, spending eight weeks at number one in both countries. It reached number seven on the UK Singles Chart.

"The Look" received a total of 80,5% yes votes!

[supermoongirl9]

Things that could make you feel better when you're in a bad mood (anxious, sad or worst) based on your 5H :

Aries/Mars 5H = finding something to let out your emotional frustration such as exercising, going for a run or masturbation; dancing and shaking your ass; going to a sauna or a hammam; taking a cold shower to feel less overwhelmed physically.

Taurus/Venus 5H = eating your fav comfort food and not feeling guilty even if that's something deemed as unhealthy/junk food; wearing comfy clothes and not caring about how you look (just enjoying and chilling); ordering some take-out just because.

Gemini/Mercury 5H = reading a part of one of your fav books; watching an old cartoon from your childhood; using your hands for something artistic (even if it's about a silly doodle); having a good laugh with friends, watching reality-tv and not feeling guilty hahaha.

Cancer/Moon 5H = taking a long bath; spending time around children (bonus point if they're from ur fam); talking to your loved ones (give them a call!!); swimming naked somewhere; calling your mom or your women friends and pour your heart out.

Leo/Sun 5H = listening to positive affirmations; complimenting yourself in front of a mirror; wearing your fav outfit and parading somewhere; acting like you're the star of your own movie (it's needed sometimes); wearing something shiny.

Virgo/Mercury 5H = cleaning and reorganizing your things - can be only about your desk/work space as it helps with feeling less anxious mentally speaking; criticizing people u don't like w friends; doing a full skin care routine (face mask, 10 steps shit) while watching a show.

Libra/Venus 5H = dressing up and wearing a beautiful makeup/beautiful jewelry even if you're staying at home because sometimes, feeling beautiful is important; creating a pretty atmosphere in your bedroom (scented candle, nice bed sheets...) before sleeping.

Scorpio/Pluto 5H = masturbation/having sex with someone; spending the day naked at your place and enjoying the privacy; buying a new sex-toy; writing a list of your enemies; burning some incense and watching your fav horror movie; reading about the occult.

Sagittarius/Jupiter 5H = going on an adventure somehow (can be only about going to that new place you always wanted to try in your neighborhood); scheduling a trip somewhere; watching a documentary about your fav topic (and educating urself in the process).

Capricorn/Saturn 5H = seeking advices and words of encouragement from older people; doing something that makes you feel more in control of your life and congratulating yourself right after; spending some alone time without telling anyone how to reach you out.

Aquarius/Uranus 5H = indulging in your niche hobby no one knows about; dressing without caring about others' judgement and actually enjoying it; watching an experimental movie; listening to music and daydreaming.

Pisces/Neptune 5H = listening to your fav playlist (you need one that exists only to uplift your mood); writing cheesy poems just because; telling your loved ones how much you actually love them; spending time near the ocean.

[ch4bby]

I read two fics some time ago with Tim dancing along with Cass, and omg, it changed me- Because... JUST THINK ABOUT IT-

Tim being a rich kid, with really strict parents but who are flexible enough so that they don't have prejudices regarding very conventional gender roles. And thanks to this, Tim is put in classical ballet classes long enough to be able to wear pointe shoes.

Tim likes it to a certain extent, as the exercises, physical conditioning and muscle elongation help him to be able to follow the bat and bird duo around Gotham. Over time he stops attending classes either due to his parents' influence to focus on some other activity, or because he preferred that time to coordinate patrol routes and get more photos.

By the time he starts being Robin, he no longer attends ballet classes. The training left a small mark on the way he moves as Robin, but nothing too noticeable. He finds it easy to jump really high and is able to land silently and smoothly. He doesn't get dizzy easily thanks to the pirouettes and fouettes his teacher made him practice daily.

Also, training with Dick is easier than when he trains with Bruce, since with Dick there are really similar exercises thanks to the older boy's training in the circus as an acrobat. The elasticity is not comparable between the two, but Tim has enough so that some of Dick's exercises are not so impossible for him.

Cut out when Cass arrives and Tim notices that she likes ballet, and even more surprisingly, she dances ballet! It is thanks to this that Tim manages to find a common point between the two to be able to start a friendship, with Cass being really excited to know that Tim also knew ballet!

They both connect thanks to ballet, Tim, taking advantage of the fact that they were both quite similar in height and complexion (even in face, which still leaves him wondering sometimes if they weren't secret twins?) shares with her his leotards and shoes, at least the training ones. Because although Cass can stand on pointe with amazing ease, Tim prefers to help her go over the basic training to get on pointe. Because literally, those things break feet, and he doesn't want to see his adopted sister go through that (We're talking about Cass, though.)

By the time they've been through about two months of helping Cass go over the basics, and remembering moves she remembered seeing from when she lived in the basement of that Ballet school, she can get up on pointe, and Tim hands her some cute yellow pointe shoes that he got years ago, when Robin colors still drove him crazy. So when Cass wears them, they're flexible and soft, not hard and uncomfortable like the ballet slippers one recently bought.

And Tim, he has his cream pointe shoes to wear, also used and flexible, comfortable like an old toy you haven't used in a while and despite everything, you still know how to play with it.

They both select certain days to practice and dance different pieces of music, Tim occasionally teaching her the classical pieces she doesn't know, or showing her how to dance as a couple. Although for this he takes off his pointe shoes and goes back to his leather slippers.

They keep up this routine even when Damian arrives, and so far the only one who knows what they're doing is Alfred, basically because he's the one who usually does their laundry and tidies up the room they use to dance. Making sure the floor isn't too slippery and the furniture is pushed up against the walls to make room. Every now and then, they both invite him to watch a specific dance they've practiced, like a snippet from Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, or The Rite of Spring.

As more time passes, Cass takes more liberties in the dance and fuses ballet with something more contemporary, while Tim sticks to classical ballet. They keep dancing, but now each one gives a personal touch to each pirouette, pas couru, and movement. They make a temporary bar with pvp pipes, which despite everything, works wonders for them.

Maybe Bruce is the first one to find them, after a particularly tiring day in which he just wants to be alone for a few moments and decides to go to the rooms less used, he hears a classical melody from one of the rooms that supposedly, should be empty. And when he goes to see where the music was coming from and why, he finds his two children playing a fragment of Carmen (Gipsy friends duet) and is more than surprised by the ability not only of Cass, but of Tim! Bruce had no idea that Tim could dance ballet, did he learn it now from Cass? Or is it something he already knew?

Whatever the case, what surprises him the most is the amazing coordination of the two, they seem to be the reflection of each other. And with regret Bruce admits inwardly that if it weren't for the distinction of the clothes and the hairstyle, he would swear that he was seeing double.

[scribefindegil]

Lorraine Baines McFly and Female Autonomy

Hello. I have spent the past month slowly losing my mind about Lorraine Baines McFly, Marty's mom in Back to the Future, so I am finally trying to articulate some of the reasons I'm so feral about her.

There's a quote from Lea Thompson, the actress who played Lorraine, that goes, "The three parts that women usually get to play are virgins, whores, and mothers, and in Back to the Future Part II, I got to play all three." While this is commentary on Hollywood and the limited roles that fictional women get forced into, I think it's also interesting to think about it in terms of how these roles are reflected onto actual women and used to limit their personhood and confine them to a very narrow range of acceptable behaviors . . . and then in turn to think about how the character interacts with these roles on a Watsonian level. They're affecting not just Lorraine the character as she was written, but Lorraine from an in-universe perspective trying to navigate life as a woman in a patriarchal world. Some of the sexism she faces is a deliberate narrative choice and some of it is a result of the writers' blind spots, but for the purpose of this essay I'm less interested in teasing out which threads are which and more in looking at it holistically.

Because the thing about Lorraine is that she's aware of what the acceptable roles and behaviors for women are, and the versions that we see of her across the various timelines alternately fight against and capitulate to these constraints. What is a woman allowed to be? How much is Lorraine willing to break from those restrictions? How much does she allow other women to break from them? Does she resent her role or embrace it? I have a lot of thoughts specifically about how the different iterations of her interact with concepts of female agency and autonomy.

(Putting this under a cut because it is. Long.)

I started thinking about this when I was talking with my partner about 50's Lorraine. She's extremely active and driven and planning to Get What She Wants (in a way that is very scary, if you are Marty) . . . but at the same time she's clearly aware that she isn't supposed to be. A Good Fifties Girl is demure and passive. Lorraine isn't--but she's still trying to toe the line. I think constantly about the scene where she shows up at Doc's garage to be like "I followed you home . . . so that I can ask you to ask me to the dance." The girl can embrace borderline stalking but she draws the line at directly asking a boy out! She's exercising a lot of agency but views doing so as rebellious and subversive--and risky.

And I also want to talk about the whole "boy crazy" thing because like . . . society (especially in the fifties) tells women that the most important thing they can possibly do is find a good man and become wives and mothers, that this will define the success or failure of their entire lives (and given how many things were unavailable to single women at the time this is in many ways true) . . . and then relentlessly mocks and punishes anyone who actually takes an interest in pursuing this instead of just sitting back passively and waiting. She is trying to do what society says will make her happy! And even her desire for a white knight is very much based in the reality of her situation! She's getting sexually harassed at school and around town and she's doing exactly what she's supposed to and standing up for herself and saying no and fighting back--and this is not enough. She does need backup! Biff harasses her in the middle of a crowded cafeteria and Marty is the ONLY person who does anything! No fucking wonder she latches onto him as hard as she does! (There's. I promise this is related but there's a BttF parody musical on YouTube where when Strickland comes to break up the lunchroom fight he says, "Now, I can excuse sexual harassment, but LIGHT SHOVING?" and like it's a haha funny joke but also?? Yeah?? That IS how it works. The way Lorraine's being treated is so overlooked and normalized that the authority figure isn't going to step up the way he will when it's a physical altercation between two guys. Screams.) I wonder if part of the reason she stuck with George in the original timeline even though they didn't have a lot in common is that "I have a boyfriend" is a boundary that some people might actually take seriously whereas "I'm not interested" is not.

But. In general 50's Lorraine is very much about grabbing as much agency as she feels she's allowed to . . . and then Twin Pines Lorraine is what happens when she regrets the result of those choices (because while we don't see it, it's pretty obvious that in the original timeline she pursued George as aggressively as she pursues Marty in the new one), and so she decides to deny, not just her own agency, but female agency as a general concept. She leans so heavily on the idea that her relationship was "meant to be" because it absolves her of any culpability in creating a life she's unhappy with. She's rewritten her own past to view herself as a passive participant in something inevitable. (Exactly the view of womanhood that she was fighting so hard against in the 50's!) And she extends this idea of female passivity to the women around her: telling Linda that she should sit back and wait and a relationship will "just happen," actively resenting Jennifer for doing something as simple as calling Marty on the phone. It's a really interesting form of internalized misogyny, perpetuating these sexist ideas as almost a misguided form of self-defense.

And then for Lone Pine Lorraine this is completely flipped! She loves Jennifer for the same reason she disliked her in Twin Pines: because she reminds Lorraine of her younger self. And like . . . this is something of an extrapolation, but while obviously her husband and kids are still very important to her, it also feels like she has interests and friends and other things going on in her life, whereas part of the isolation of Twin Pines is that her life has shrunk down to the point where she's ONLY a wife and mother with nothing else to define herself by. And it also matters that in this timeline she has a partner that supports her, not just in the big dramatic moments (although also that), but you can easily see the dance as a catalyst for George actually learning to listen to her and stand up for her about smaller things as well. George McFly feminism arc. (I'm being slightly facetious but like. George starts off kind of shitty. The spying is actively Bad and I hope Marty chewed him out for it offscreen, but also his reaction to the harassment scene being "I think there's someone else she'd rather go with," implying that he sees what Biff is doing as like. Normal flirting that he expects to work. He doesn't GET it. Unsurprising because he is. A teenage boy in the fifties. But I do believe that saving Lorraine was something of a wakeup call and after that he listened to her about things that make her uncomfortable and gave her the support that she needed. Which would also give her a lot more freedom in this timeline because she has someone with more societal power who has her back!)

And then. Hell Valley.

If Lone Pine is the version of Lorraine who has the most freedom, the most opportunities to make decisions based on what she wants instead of What Is Expected Of A Woman, Hell Valley is the opposite. The things denying her agency in Twin Pines is largely societal forces (and herself); in Hell Valley she is actively being denied autonomy by her evil husband who functions as the personification of a bunch of sexist ideas.

She's been objectified to the point that she doesn't maintain control over her own body; Biff pressures her to get cosmetic surgeries so she can continue to look attractive to him because that's the only value he sees in her. Her physical appearance is entirely tailored to his preferences.

Biff's view of Lorraine is wife-as-possession. He treats her like a prize he's won and her kids like parasites. And he is NOT subtle about this. But Lorraine is still desperately clinging to the idea that she's wife-as-family. She calls Biff "your father" to Marty when he arrives, and talks about "our children" because she wants so so badly for this to be something different than what it is. It's especially terrible because this is a timeline where she got seventeen years of being happy with George, she knows what she's missing, and she keeps trying to force this new relationship into a similar mold even though Biff is openly contemptuous of her and especially her kids. It's been twelve years and she's still trying to pretend. To call back to that Lea Thompson quote: it's obvious where Biff thinks Lorraine fits on the virgin-mother-whore axis, while Lorraine is actively trying to centralize her motherhood partially because the kids really are that important to her and partially as a defense mechanism.

(And it's also such a bleak cautionary tale about how fragile women's stability can be when they're dependent on their husbands; Lorraine was happy with George and had a fair amount of freedom, but he was the only one with an income so when he died she was suddenly forced into a truly horrific situation because she had no other means to support herself and her three young children. Especially given that the Hell Valley universe is also worse in some broader political ways that mean there were probably even fewer social supports available than in real life 1973)

And god. It kills me the way that we see her lash out, the way she's clawing for autonomy when she threatens to leave . . . and then exactly how Biff levels all his axes of control against her. It's very interesting that his first tactic is consumerist (Who will pay for all your things? Who will take care of you?) and that doesn't work even though not being able to support herself is a very real concern. It's only when he threatens her kids that she folds. And then she immediately crumples and pivots to rationalizing Biff's behavior and blaming herself for her own abuse (in a way that is both HEARTBREAKING and also? surprisingly sympathetic and realistic for an 80's movie?). It's similar to the passivity we see in Twin Pines, but here we see exactly where it comes from. She doesn't have any way out so she has to pretend. It's the only way she can keep going. She has these flashes of rage but they're immediately snuffed out by despair and denial.

There's not a lot of talk about Lorraine and what there is tends to reduce her to "well she's Marty's mom" as if she's a boring character who doesn't have a lot going on. But even though most of her role in the movies has to do with her relationships with the various men in her life, those relationships are really interesting if you actually pay attention to them! She's not just (in the 80's) a wife and mother--she's someone who has a complex relationship with marriage and motherhood and the societal expectations surrounding them. She's not just (in the 50's) a vapid boy-crazy girl--she's doing her best to go after what she wants in a world that doesn't want her to (the fact that one of the things she wants turns out to be her time-traveling son from the future is unfortunate but not something she has any way of knowing!). She's stuck in a society that doesn't want women to be people, and she knows this, and because we see her across two different time periods and three different timelines you can watch how sometimes society grinds her down until she gives in and tries not to be a person. And also how, sometimes, she fights back.

[billieshrry]

I’ll Be Watching You • B.E.

Summary: Billie has had her eye on you for awhile, you don’t know just how far she’ll go to get you.

Warnings: violence (dv from a m*n), psycho!billie, stalker!billie, ummm murder?, sorta bimbo!reader, age gap (not mentioned but billies a few years older)

Authors note: hi guys I’m trying to write so more ppl see my posts and blog and follow me so i can make friends Lol. I hope u enjoy!

The wind blew through your hair as you walked home from work. The chilly fall weather was soothing, but you could feel your cheeks turning red the closer it got to sunset. You walk in the door at 6:34pm on the dot, bending down to pet your cats before tossing your keys in the dish by the front door and sliding your shoes off.

He followed you inside, his arm on your back.

You didn’t notice the girl across the street watching your every move from her garage, where she was pretending to focus on her exercises.

You just waltzed into your home, into her sight, oblivious as ever. It was kind of cute to her, how clueless you had been for the past 3 months.

You didn’t bother to wonder who could’ve been watching through your bedroom window. She saw it all. She watched your midnight dances in your tight little tank tops and matching underwear. She watched you study, enamored by the way your eyes squinted when you focused. The way you nibbled on your pen, probably so confused because your little head could only process so much. She watched you fuck him, how short and unpleasant it looked. How quick he was, how he never paid attention to you.

You never once closed the blinds, the curtain, or shied away from the window frame.

It’s like you wanted her to keep watching, she felt like you were inviting her into your home. You wanted this. You wanted her. So, she did what anyone who felt wanted would do.

She gave you want you wanted. She never stopped watching, never stopped taking mental notes on your every action, your every emotion.

So when she saw him take you upstairs, she thought she knew what she was about to watch. She mentally prepared for the 4 minutes she was about to endure.

She watched you stand on your tippy toes, your entire body in frame, as you tried to find a specific set of lingerie in your drawer. You wanted to look sexy for him.

For him? Or for her.

It almost reminded her of the first time she saw you, when you were walking home from your job at the café in the quaint little town you lived in.

You accidentally let your cat out of the house, and it climbed up into a tall bush in front of the house. She watched your struggle, your short limbs unable to reach the poor cat’s hiding spot. She watched as you looked around, wondering if anyone could help you. She watched as you skimmed over her, not even noticing the pale, black haired girl who was pretending to work out in her garage. She just kept lifting the dumbbells, wondering how dumb you were.

Silly little thing, she thought. What a silly, little girl.

She placed the dumbbells down and put her headphones onto her collarbone, wiping the sweat from under her nose before crossing the street to your house. You turned quickly, hearing the leaves rustle as someone approached you. You jumped slightly when you heard the deep yet smooth voice from behind you.

“Need a little help, babe?”

You turn over your right shoulder, seeing what you think is the most beautiful girl in the world. Her eyes pierced yours, her teeth glimmering in the sunset lighting, her skin bright and so clear. You stutter over yourself, looking up at her. Her clothes stuck to her chest with sweat, her arms glistening and her bra strap just barely hanging out of the tank top she was in.

“Y- yes please! My cat, my stupid little cat, she got stuck in this bush! I knew I shouldn’t have opened the door so wide, my music just made me completely forget about real life! I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry!” You ramble to the stranger in front of you.

“Hey, hey, shh,” she says, calming you down although now her own heart rate is through the roof. “I’ll get the poor kitty, you just go inside.”

You oblige, running in to make sure your other cat was okay. You watch through a front window as she climbs into the bush to get your scared little fuzzball, your heart swelling with appreciation. She pets Oscar’s (your cat’s) head lovingly before smiling at you through the window. You come back outside, your smile wide and your eyes bright, practically skipping to get your cat from the sweet stranger who lived across the street.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! Seriously I owe you! That could’ve really scratched you up!” You say, looking at the light red scratches on her upper arm from the twigs in the bush.

“Really, it’s no problem. I’m right across the street if you need anything. The name’s Billie.”

You smile at the girl, and although you feel bad for interrupting her workout, you believe her sentiment. You introduce yourself to her before she walks back across the street, slipping her headphones on before laying down on the bench and lifting the dumbbells again.

And that, that was the last interaction you two had.

To your knowledge, at least.

Billie, on the other hand, became obsessed with you. Watched your every move. Watched where you drove, watched when you came home, watched who you invited into your house. She was intrigued by your innocence, by your trustfulness to have people in your house without knowing what they would do. Without knowing their true intentions. Without knowing that she was watching everything.

So when she watched you pick out a little lace bra, with the cutest little bow in the front, she took a deep breath, slouching down in her chair, feeling herself get hot.

She watched you bend over, ass toward the window, as you pulled your old pair of panties off. She watched your back arch, your cute little ass right on display for her. She watched you slip on the matching thong to the bra she saw you choose, biting her thumb and taking mental photos of you. She never wanted this to end.

But then, she saw something that she never expected to see.

She saw that man, that boy that had the luck of the draw with you, storm into your bedroom and slap you across the face. She watched as you tumbled over, your hand immediately holding the sting on your cheek. Billie shot up out of her chair, full of shock, which quickly turned into anger. She watched as he pulled his fist back again, but she quickly pulled the blinds. She wouldn’t watch anymore. She physically couldn’t.

Billie paced her room for an hour, peeking out of her front window every few minutes, checking if he was still there. If your light had shut off, if the blinds were closed, if he was gone.

Finally, at 10:12pm, she watched as he stormed out of your room. You were sitting on the bed, sobbing, with your face red from tears and your arms bruised from him. She watched you get up to turn the light off, and then she watched him exit your house.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

She couldn’t do it today, it’d be too obvious, she thought. But she started to watch him instead. She knew everything about him in the span of 24 hours.

Where he worked, his address, his parents, the name of his first pet, his license plate, his first grade teacher.

Billie found it all.

So it was no accident when she drove to the mechanic shop 2 days later. She pulled into the parking lot across the street, watching everyone leave their job for the night. But when she laid her eyes on him, her heart sped up. She was excited.

Billie was ready to kill the man that hurt you, all while you were watching a cozy show in your cute little bedroom, oblivious to it all.

She followed him to a gas station, and as he got out of his shitty little car, she pounced. The station was empty, the night was silent, and she made sure nobody would hear him scream. The hood she used around his head was full of chloroform, so his weak little body went limp in her arms in a matter of seconds. She shoved him into the backseat of her car, and sped home.

As she pulled in, she watched you dig into your bowl of popcorn in your bedroom, your eyes never leaving the screen. How ironic that the movie you were watching was Scream. How festive.

When she pulled into the garage and dragged his unconscious body into her basement, she tied him up to the chair and felt herself get excited. It had been a minute since she had been in this position, ready to kill for a girl. That’s why she had to move into your neighborhood in the first place.

She waited 2 hours, perfecting her tools on the table, waiting for him to wake up. So when he did, and he realized where he was (or realized he didn’t know where he was) the boy started to scream. He wailed and cried, looking at the knives in front of him, feeling his hands and legs tied down.

“Shut up you pussy.” Billie said, almost laughing at his pleas for her to not hurt him. “You fucking hurt my girl, so I’m gonna fucking kill you, alright?”

And so, she did exactly that.

She turned on her speaker in the basement, singing to herself some old classic rock, grabbing her favorite switchblade out of the 4 she had on her tray.

Her feet crinkled the tarp that lay underneath her and your boyfriend.

His eyes locked with hers one last time before she took the knife across his throat, watching the blood spill out of his stupid, ugly body.

Billie carved out his organs, ripping his beating heart out of his chest and holding it up in pride after an hour of torture. Holding the little bitch’s life in her hands, the little bitch that had the audacity to hurt you.

She smiled to herself, thinking of you and how happy you’d be to know he’s gone.

She saved you.

All of this happening while you snuggled up in your bed on the cozy October night, dreaming of the girl you had met that one time from across the street.

Dreaming of the girl who just murdered your boyfriend.

🙂🙂🙂 sorry guys but i felt spooky and im def gonna make a part 2 or make this a series or something if you want it. Also i didnt proofread so sorry

[blueteller]

Do you know how smart Cale actually is? Like- what extent his intelligence can reach?

That's an interesting question! Let's take a look.

From what I know of IQ scores, anything above 120 puts you in top 10% of the population. So I easily see Kim Rok Soo!Cale belonging in that category; of >120 IQ. However, IQ had always felt a little vague to me. It's nice to have a number to put on a scale and all, but what does it actually mean in reality? Let's try this from a different angle.

Gardner's Multiple Intelligences model of divides talent into eight categories, plus one additional one:

Visual-spatial

Linguistic-verbal

Logical-mathematical

Body-kinesthetic

Musical

Interpersonal

Intrapersonal

Naturalistic

Existential

Why not try to measure him up against each one, as no person is actually intelligent in every way and not even a fictional character can excel in all of them (unless they're a Mary Sue or something lol).

Visual and spatial judgment stands for easy reading, writing, puzzles solving, recognizing patterns and analyzing charts well. I think Cale is definitely a pro in this category; he does loves reading and he's fantastic at analyzing data.

Linguistic-verbal is for remember written and spoken information, debates, giving persuasive speeches, ability to explain things and skilled at verbal humor. And while I constantly make fun of Cale for not being able to explain himself, he IS good at using the "glib tongue" and being persuasive, so I think he is very skilled in this category as well.

Logical-mathematical means having excellent problem-solving skills, the ability to come up with abstract ideas and conduct scientific experiments, as well as computing complex issues. Cale is an incredible strategist able to change his plans in an instant, so he is definitely a genius in this field.

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence is a fun one, because I think it's the hardest one to judge, considering that he literally changed bodies. It of course stands for sports, dancing, craftmanship, physical coordination, and remembering better by practice rather than learning theory. Cale... does not like that. However, it doesn't mean he's BAD at it. If he was a genius in this field, however, I believe he would like it a bit more. Thus – I suspect he was average. In the past he was forced to exercise for the sake of survival, but once he was given the option of taking it easy, he quit instantly. He is capable, but does not have any particular predisposition for it.

Musical Intelligence drives me nuts, because we literally do not know, and I dearly wish I did. There was not a single mention of it in the whole series. As much as I want to believe in a cool headcanon of KRS being an unrealized musical genius... I think he was probably average or below average in this.

Interpersonal Intelligence stands for communication, conflict-solving, perception and the ability to forge connections with others. And while you might have some doubts about Cale, I say he IS a total pro in this. Those are all leadership skills, and Cale is one HELL of a great leader.

However...

Intrapersonal Intelligence is where Cale is severely lacking. It could be partially due to trauma, but I think at least some of it comes through his natural personality. It stands for introspection, self-reflection, the ability to understand one's motivation and general self-awareness; and that is Cale's biggest weakness, one that might actually cost him his slacker life dream in the end, due to all the misunderstandings he causes.

The last two, Naturalistic and Existential Intelligence types, are also not really Cale's forte. The first is for things like botany, biology, and zoology, paired with enjoyment of camping and hiking – none of which Cale actually does for pleasure, only because he has to. And yeah, farming is in that category too, but it's not like Cale is actually a real farmer just yet. And the second is for stuff like philosophy, considering how current actions influence future outcomes, the ability to see situations from an outside perspective and reflections into the meaning of life and death – and Cale is REALLY not interested in this type of self reflection.

Which leaves Cale with 4 types of intelligence he excels at, 2 which he is REALLY BAD at, 1 where he's below average and 1 he's probably average, with 1 left completely unknown.

Does this make Cale a genius? Pretty much, yes. Does it also make him stupid in very specific ways? VERY MUCH, YES.

[darkeyessdarkheart]

Good Luck, Babe

warnings: language, implied smut, 18+

pairing: rhea ripley x fem!reader

word count: 3,291

Alright y’all. Bare with me lmao. I haven’t written in years and I’ve been working 12 hr shifts so I can’t promise it’s my best. But here you are for the 8 people who wanted this! lmao. Any feedback or requests would be great! :)

It was a successful post-Wrestlemania celebration in Philly that night. You and some fellow superstars had heard of a local club and decided to continue your celebrations there after the press conference. Music blared throughout the club causing you to feel as if even your feet were vibrating through your heels. You and Bayley were on the dance floor laughing at your sad attempts at dancing. You’d only had a couple of drinks and were just a little tipsy. “Y/N what are you doing?! You look like you’re seizing!” Bayley leaned in to try to exclaim in your ear.

“It’s not my fault! The only dancing I’m good at involves grinding!” You chuckle back at her. She shakes her head taking another swig of her cocktail before looking back at you, eyes glazed over. “I mean, by all means, if it makes it better than that you can dance on me all you want.”

Bayley and you joked back and forth like this sometimes but your relationship was always platonic. You decided to take her up on her offer, taking your free hand and grabbing her free one as well. Pulling her hand up into the air you spun yourself around and began to seductively sway to the music pushing your back closer to her. “Whoo! Yeah girl, damn I didn’t know you could get down like that!” She exclaims as you rock your hips back and forth while also slowly moving down her body and then back up, making sure to push your butt into her. You both laugh as you continue before suddenly seeing a figure coming to loom over you.

“Hey! Mind if I steal your partner there for a bit?!” You hear the voice and recognize it as the New World Heavyweight Champion. You had known for a bit that Damian had a little crush on you. You’d catch him staring at you during rehearsals and at morning gym sessions. He’d always try to spark conversation with you and would even occasionally join in on your workouts if you were working the same area. Somehow he’d always end up “showing you a better way” or form to do an exercise in what felt like an excuse just to touch you. As if you weren’t a professional athlete with years of experience working out. But you didn’t mind, Damian was a nice and attractive guy after all. “She’s all yours champ!” Bayley said before walking away, being sure to look back at you and suggestively raise her eyebrows.

“You did awesome tonight! How’s it feel to finally be champion?” You leaned in to ask him. “Feels almost as great as you look.” He flirts letting his eyes roam up and down your body in your tight-fitting dress. You reach out to playfully push him laughing, “You’re stupid. Thanks though, you look good too.” You smile up at him. Amid your conversation, you can’t help but look over to the bar behind you and see two piercing blue eyes staring right at you. Rhea.

You and Rhea joined NXT around the same time and immediately clicked. You bonded over your nerdy video game tastes, love of horror movies and animals, and her vast intent on exposing you to heavy metal music. You two became best friends and an even better tag team. You even held the former NXT Women’s Tag Team Championships together for a run. However, it all changed one night after Rhea won her first North American NXT Women’s Championship.

You were in your dressing room screaming at the TV like a maniac. “Come on Rhea!” You yelled watching Rhea getting hit on the top rope. In the last second, she reversed the move hitting Shayna with the riptide from the second turnbuckle and pinning her for the title. You bolted from your dressing room to the gorilla, and down to the ring. You threw your arms around her squeezing her tighter than ever before as the announcer declared her victory. “You did it! I’m so proud of you!!” You pulled back smiling at her and practically jumping up and down. You went to hold her arm up in the air but instead, she scooped you up with her one free arm, causing you to wrap your legs around her waist. You laughed in surprise but just smiled right back at her, staring into her baby blue eyes. The crowd erupted as she held the title up in the air with her other arm all while holding you to her.

You made it back to the gorilla waiting for your chance for another hug once the crowd of individuals that had gathered to congratulate her had dispersed. “I still can’t believe it.” She stated almost breathlessly, still slightly panting as she stared at the gold on her arm. “Thank you for coming out to the ring. You know I love celebrating with you.” She smiled at you. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, I love you so much.” You threw your arms around her neck and pulled her into an embrace. Only this time when you pulled apart, you couldn’t help but stop at a certain point. Your arms remained locked behind her neck and her hands remained steady at the small of your back and waist. You didn’t know what came over you, you leaned in and kissed her.

She must’ve been as surprised as you were judging by her slight jump. The second you felt it you immediately wanted to pull away and apologize, not even understanding why you did what you’d done. The thoughts were squashed instantaneously by the feeling of her kissing you back. It was like no other, the way your lips molded together, the way you moved in perfect synchrony with each other, how soft and perfect her lips felt. The first tender kiss slowly turned into more as you felt her tongue piercing run softly across your lower lip as she tried to gain access to your mouth. You couldn’t help but accept, allowing the kiss to become deeper and passionate. Your tongues slipped in and out of each other’s mouths with every movement. The moment came to an end all too soon when you both heard footsteps approaching and jumped apart.

Rhea was quickly busy with another superstar coming up to congratulate her. You used this as your excuse to bolt back to your dressing room. You slammed the door leaning your back against it, panting from pure adrenaline. What did you just do?! Rhea was your best friend for fuck’s sake. You had only ever been in relationships with men your entire life. You thought you’d had good experiences with guys, but that kiss. That was incomparable. You’d never felt such passion and dare you admit it, desire in just a kiss. Had you not been interrupted you were unsure how far you would’ve been willing to take that situation. You shook your head putting your head in your hands, not knowing what was wrong with you. Of course, you loved Rhea, how could you not? She’s gorgeous, funny, caring, and you have so many memories together. But did you love her? Or were you just caught up in the moment?

Surely, after all this time you would’ve known if you were into her, right? Your brain was running 100 miles a minute, completely unsure of what to think or do next. The only clear thought you had was you had to get away. You changed out of your ring gear faster than ever, changed into a baggy hoodie and sweats, pulling your hood over your head in an attempt to hide yourself. You grabbed your bag and headed out to your car and drove home.

Rhea blew up your phone that night trying to call you, text you, facetime you, hell she was even emailing you. You couldn’t bear to hear her voice and own up to what you had done. You were deleting her first at least 100 texts quickly, trying to not even read them. Only seeing glimpses of certain ones as you did so.

Rhea🖤: Y/N, what the hell?

Rhea🖤: Where are you??

Rhea🖤: We need to talk!

Rhea🖤: Call me back now.

Rhea🖤: This isn’t funny Y/N.

Rhea🖤: Answer the damn phone!

Rhea🖤: If you don’t answer, I swear to god I’m gonna bloody lose it Y/N.

You couldn’t even comprehend the idea of speaking to her in any shape or form in this state. Eventually, you decided to block her phone number. You told yourself it would be temporary, just until you were able to clear your mind. To understand why you did this and what your feelings truly were for your best friend. However days passed, you managed to successfully avoid her at shows despite hearing the gossip of her adamantly looking for you backstage at every single one.

Your call up from Smackdown couldn’t have come at a better time. You decided this promotion was the perfect opportunity to extend your sabbatical with Ripley. You’d figure it out eventually, you told yourself.

Present

You and Rhea hadn’t properly spoken in a very long time. In what seemed like divine intervention to you, you always ended up on the opposing show. Only having to be around one another at certain pay per views throughout the years. However, thanks to avoidance and always making sure at least one other superstar was in the room with you, you never managed to be fully alone with Rhea. You were polite of course, casual, but you never allowed the conversation to get too intense before ditching. In the instances you were around one another you’d feel her doing what she was doing now. Eyeing you down, as if she was trying to read you. Trying to understand why you were so willing to throw away everything you had together. All just because you refused to admit your true feelings.

You felt your breath catch your throat but tried to instantly regain your composure, looking back up at Priest. “You wanted to dance, let’s dance!” You squeal at him causing him to chuckle at you. You begin to dance together but all the while all you can feel is what feels like lasers beaming right at your face. Rhea was at the bar with Bianca and Jade, ordering another round and talking amongst themselves. However, Rhea wasn't remotely interested. She was captivated by you.

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

You forced yourself to turn around not wanting to feel her eyes directly on your face. Continuing to sway to the music you push your back around Priest, seductively grinding on him. Closing your eyes you tried to distract yourself from the thoughts of wishing you were dancing like this on the woman across the room. You knew at this point what you wanted but it felt as if it had been too long. Not to mention the thought still petrified you. The idea of further ruining the perfect friendship you’d tossed aside. All because you were a coward.

And guess I’m the fool

Finally, you turn back around, planning on telling Damian you were too drunk and should head back to your hotel. Even though you knew you were fine. As you did so you noticed her beginning to head into the crowd, beeling straight to you and Priest. Oh God. Your heart began to race and your stomach felt as if it had dropped to your ass. Your mind was running through every possible scenario to try to get out of this oncoming shit storm. You did the first comprehensive thing that came to your mind, standing up on your tiptoes in your heels, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing his lips down onto yours. Damian immediately accepted, holding your face in his large hands as you moved your lips together.

The black haired Australian stopped in her tracks as she saw what you were doing.

You can kiss 100 boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You were trying to put your all into the kiss. Anything to try to show Rhea you weren’t interested in her. It felt as if you were trying to put on some elaborate performance but you couldn’t stop yourself. You had your hands on top of his then began to grab his shirt, pulling him as close to you as possible. Priest put his hands on top of yours pulling back, “Woah Y/N, I think you’ve had a bit too much muñeca. I’d love to, but not like this.”

All while Damian is gently “letting you down” she finally reaches you, breaking out into a toothy grin. “Hey mate, Y/N, you doing okay? You don’t look so great.” She feigns concern looking you up and down but you know each other too well. You’d spent more than a couple nights out together and she knew your tolerance was way higher than you were portraying. “I’m fine.” You answer quickly, almost too quickly. Damian looks at both of you assessing the situation, clearly unsure of what to do. No matter what else you tried to look at around the room you kept somehow locking eyes with her again. Those light blue orbs taking your breath away every time. “Rhea, you mind helping get Y/N back? You don’t mind right, Y/N?”

Before you can even protest, she interrupts. “Of course mate. I’ll text you when I get her in. Have fun tonight champ!” She grabs your wrist and starts leading you out of the club, shouting at Priest over her shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You’re trying to pull out of her grip but are unsuccessful each time. She didn’t answer, keeping her eyes pointed towards the exit of the club.

At the last second, she turns, leading you towards the hallway where the bathrooms were. “Rhea, seriously let me go! What are you doing?!” You attempt to exclaim once but she continues to ignore you, just dragging you along.

You reach the bathroom and she opens the door dragging you inside. You look around expecting a multi-stall facility but instead find yourself in a very tight space with the woman you’ve avoided for so long.

“The better question is, what are you doing Y/N?” She turns around finally making eye contact with you again. Your eyes dart once again trying to avoid the intensity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say as your eyes finally settle on a particular piece of graffiti on the wall in front of you. “Yes, you do. You’ve dodged me for years. You don’t want to be around me, fine. But really? You’re gonna try to act like you’re something you’re not?” She shakes her head, her eyes squinting as she looks you up and down as if she was trying to piece you back together in her mind.

“You’re being ridiculous. If Priest wants to pursue me, why shouldn’t I let him?” You cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to subconsciously put a barrier between you and her.

You can say it’s just the way you are

Make another excuse, another stupid reason

“This isn’t what you want, Y/N.” Rhea grabs your chin forcing you to look at her. Your heart is pounding so hard it feels as if it could burst out of you at any moment. You felt a lump in your throat as hard as a stone. The cold feeling of her rings touching your skin would normally make you jump but they felt amazing against your now blazing red skin.

“You may tell yourself that kiss never happened. Bloody hell, you probably have to tell yourself that every day. I bet you think about it all the time.” You felt as if she was rubbing your biggest mistake in your face. You go to smack her hand away, “Stop it, Rhea, it was years ago. I was in the moment and I overstepped. It meant noth-“

She cuts you off, taking you by surprise by pushing herself up against you against the wall, her hands next to both sides of your head. You can’t help the audible small gasp that leaves your mouth. “Tell me you don’t want this.” She whispers as she inches her face towards yours. You gulp.

Good luck, babe.

Well, good luck, babe.

She takes one of her hands and grips your jaw forcing you to look at her. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

You inhale deeply through your nose. Your body was covered in goosebumps yet somehow still felt like it was on fire. Feeling her strong body up against yours was causing your mind to blank. You couldn’t think of anything besides the feeling of her chest moving against yours with each deep breath you took.

In that moment you felt your once strong front begin to dissipate. “Rhea, I-“ You try to start but the ball in your throat causes your voice to catch. You look up at the ceiling feeling tears prickling at your eyes. “I do want you. I want you more than anything.” The tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you continue.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” You whisper to yourself. Seeing your tears Rhea backed up slightly, taking one hand and gently wiping at some of the tears. “You’re not an idiot baby.” She softly spoke, leaving her hand to rest on your cheek.

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship but I-“ You open your mouth inhaling deeply then exhaling, trying to stop crying. “I did.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me Y/N? We’d been close for so long. Nothing could and would ever ruin what we have. As friends or, as more.” She enunciates the last part, her Aussie accent thick.

You shake your head, wishing you had a reasonable answer for her. “I don’t know.”

She sighs, pulling you to her in a tight embrace. You exhale, wrapping your arms around her. She holds the back of your head stroking your hair softly. Of course, she’d remember. That was always something she’d do for you whenever you were stressed or upset.

“I missed you so fucking much.” You whisper, squeezing her as tight as you possibly could inhaling her familiar scent.

You’re the first to pull away but remain still, keeping her close. Rhea looks down at you wiping the last remaining tears away. Only now do you notice the tear stains where makeup once was on her face.

Despite the messy makeup, disheveled hair, and groggy voices from crying you couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous she looked.

“Rhea?” You ask softly. “Y/N?” She responds looking into your eyes.

“You’re right. I haven’t stopped thinking about this.” You sigh, shaking your head slightly then grabbing her face in your hands and smashing your lips together. It was as if no time had passed.

The same fire and passion from the first kiss immediately reignited. She reached around your body, holding your lower back and gripping your ass with the other. You moaned softly at the feeling allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth.

You reached your hands out grabbing every part of her that you could reach. From her long black hair, to her waist using her metal chain belt to pull her even closer.

She pulls away and you almost whine. “Come on you, we’re going to the hotel. I’m gonna show what else I’ve been thinking about since that kiss.”

[riptidekissesblog]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓhey girlies, ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓv

as promised, here are 15 things that helped me seriously level up. I'm so sick of seeing the same things on every blog post and it's just like stay hydrated!!

try new hobbies until you find ones that bring you the most fufillment!! (examples to try: art, crochet, writing, making music, photography, gardening, cooking)

find YOUR exercise, whether it's yoga, pilates, sports, weight training, dance. I can't stress this enough.

I know meditation seems cliche, but it really can help clear your mind and bring balance. a tip that helps me is to visualize your tongue relaxing, almost like it's floating. that will help silence your mind so you can fully surrender.

pay attention to your diet. so much of what we eat is processed junk food. try to eat 80% Whole Foods and 20% processed foods. meal prepping really helped me also not buying junk food at all. this step seems difficult but i promise there is a healthy alternative to most of your favortite foods. remember, you are what you eat ;)

when it comes to beauty, the simpler the better (its also cheaper!!) some things I would invest in would be coconut and castor oil because they can be used on everything. also a gel nail kit and a good electric razor for your face. the more you obess on every detail the more it will consume you. you are enough and don't need a million beauty hacks. (also sun-in works nice for natural highlights)

no company is better than bad company, don't accept low-vibe behavior from ANYONE

make an it girl playlist with upbeat songs from rihanna, lady gaga, katy perry, marina, and other 2000s hits. I don't know what it is but those songs will bring out the inner goddess in you.

don't compare yourself to anyone!!!! everyone is on their own journey, focus on yours. everyone has their own energetic signature. be yourself. stop wanting to impress others.

listen to binaural beats if you have blocked chakras or want to attract wealth, love, luck etc). they're also super relaxing.

give up all your limiting beliefs, anything is possible if you want it bad enough. it's gotta be someone, why couldn't it be you?

go with the flow, things happen for a reason. if you find yourself regretting a decision, remind youself that the other choice may have been worse, how do you know??

take ownership for your problems, the only one to blame is yourself. i am a firm believer that you can change anything you don't like about your reality. you deserve happiness.

live in the moment. ask yourself are you enjoying the moment, if not, what can you change. if you can't change anything, LEAVE. protect your peace girl!

stop insecurity from the root. you don't love yourself becuase you haven't worked on yourself. you are a garden that needs watering. i promise, once you complete this list you will love the person you become.

surround youself with love. do every task out of love. speak every word from a loving place. love everyone. we are all human.

i really hope this helps. this list came from YEARS of self-work. i created this blog so girls can learn how to become their most healed beautiful selves.

love you girlies!! ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 7: Potential

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 3856 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

A cheerful, badly played melody bounced within the dark walls of the castle. For a couple of hours, seemingly random notes sang a song that Sukuna knew perfectly well. One by one, it slowly played. The lovely song lightly drifted into the busy king's office. Usually, he liked to keep the door closed so that no one would disturb him while he worked, but since a pretty musician was playing, he didn't mind listening to the beautiful melody despite the mistakes.

Sukuna stretched his six limbs over the mahogany desk after a long day of reading and doing tedious paperwork. It was a necessary task to keep abreast of what was going on in the kingdom. Every decision he made only favored him, but being a curse, it gave his own race an advantage over humans. Nimbly, he stacked the documents on their respective shelves to finish for the day. He was the only one who could touch his desk, as his greatest secrets were kept there.

Sukuna prowled throughout the corridors, his footsteps echoing to the rhythm of the melody playing in the background. It was important to stretch the legs after spending a full day sitting down. The music gradually intensified as he approached the game room. Taking his time to enjoy the song more. He peeked through the open door to watch you carefully. There you were, in front of the giant piano as you stared at the beginner piano book you had borrowed from the library.

You had always wanted to learn to play the piano. When your mother used to take you to dances, you always loved watching the musicians move their fingers nimbly and elegantly on their shiny instruments. There was something about the pianists that caught your attention, maybe it was the way they swayed their bodies to the music or their intense focus. Whatever it was, it was fascinating how their hands could produce such magic. Unfortunately, you were from a modest family, so you could never get near a piano. Not until you started serving Sukuna.

The first time you entered the game room, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the magnificent black piano that sat mysteriously in the far corner. You were supposed to clean the library, but admiring the piano for a moment wouldn’t hurt. You approached it cautiously, inches away from the majestic instrument. Your fingers caressed the perimeter of the soundboard, and you smiled to yourself as you carefully admired it. Curiosity led you to inspect its interior, and you touched one of the strings, eliciting a short sound. You quickly pulled your hand away, worried someone might hear you wasting time. Glancing at the door, you waited to see if anyone would peek in to check who had disturbed the icy silence of the castle. Fortunately, no one noticed.

As soon as the king announced you as the winner of this year's hunt, you knew what you would spend on your week off. Every day, after breakfast, you would head to the game room to find the grand piano you had fallen in love with at first sight. You would read the beginner's manual, repeat the exercises to the best of your understanding and then rest your fingers for a while. Your free time was spent reading books that caught your attention, even though you didn’t understand half of the complex vocabulary. It wasn’t that you couldn’t read, but the intricacy of the texts was challenging. When you didn't want to play the piano or read, you would look for Mrs. Inoue to help her with some of her homework.

Sukuna had noticed your peculiar routine during your week off. Despite having received a wonderful week off from work, you were in the playroom practicing piano, trying to read complex texts or helping the other servants finish their work. Whenever you tried to help Mrs. Inoue, he always stayed in the shadows, watching you argue with your old friend. You would ask him to let you help and Mrs. Inoue would refuse your kind offers because you deserved a break. It didn't matter if it was hanging blankets in the sun, peeling vegetables or dusting vases, you wanted to help your companions, but they would end up running you out of the room. Sukuna was amused to see you return to the playroom, frustrated at your desire to be productive. You were hardworking, and that was both your best and worst quality.

Your fingers descended one by one on the piano as you stuck out your tongue in concentration. Although you often made mistakes, the song you were trying to play didn't sound too bad. Sukuna could follow the rhythm you had established in the room. Your body moving from side to side mesmerized him like a flirtatious snake in a pretty basket. The temptation to come closer until you released the bite was irresistible. You lost in your musical world until you heard the door open.

“King Sukuna,” you whispered in surprise when you saw who it was. You stood up and bowed out of fear and respect. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, I…". You immediately defended yourself, worried you had disturbed him with the noise.

“Keep playing," he ordered as he approached you.

You didn't expect that answer at all, but you obeyed immediately. You returned to the position where you left the song. Sukuna sat next to you on the stool as he watched you play. Your breathing altered and your fingers began to tremble as you felt his imposing presence so close. You were making more mistakes now than before. You had to concentrate to satisfy the king's ear.

“I'm sorry, I'm not very good,” you apologized between stutters, without taking your eyes off the piano.

“I can see that," Sukuna said bluntly. It felt like a punch to your ego, but you didn't give up trying to please him. “Not bad for a beginner.” You smiled softly at the half compliment.

Sukuna watched you for a while before deciding to take possession of the piano. While you played the melody, he helped you with the chords. Little by little you merged in the music and the intimacy of the moment. Your fingers moved in tandem to create the same piece. At times, your skins brushed fleetingly against each other, dangerously close to wanting to do something beyond just touching. Your heart fluttered endlessly and there was no way you could stop it.

The king was a magnificent pianist. With four hands and incredible hand-eye coordination, it was clear he excelled. He could play any piece of music he set his mind to with ease and elegance. You were so amazed by his skills that, without realizing it, you stopped playing just to listen to him. As soon as your hands moved away from the keys, Sukuna stopped.

“What's wrong?” he asked, confused.

“The song sounds better without me,” you answered, ashamed of not being able to keep up with him. Sukuna took both of your hands with his left arms to subtly place them on the keys again.

“Once you learn, the song will sound more beautiful than you can imagine,” Sukuna promised, waiting for you to play again.

There was something in that sentence that stuck with you. You knew he was talking about a simple piano song, but your heart had been left with the impression that he was referring to you. You smiled broadly before playing again. Sukuna couldn't help but be infected by your smile. He faced away to prevent you from seeing the effect you were having on him. This was the perfect opportunity to ask you something that has been plaguing his mind for the past few months.

“You seem to like spending time with me," he said, glancing at you to see your reaction.

“I was afraid before, but I have gotten used to being around you,” you answered without taking your eyes off the book held by the lectern.

You were sure that Sukuna treated you differently from the other servants and liked that. It made you feel unique and special. Although, it could also terrify you and leave you frozen. However, you loved spending time with him. Whether it was tidying his room or washing his hair, being in his presence stimulated you mentally and physically. You couldn't help but want more of what was allowed, the forbidden fruit in the eternal garden.

“What do you think about spending more time with me?” Sukuna asked you, hiding his nervousness about what was coming.

“What do you mean?”

“Marry me.”

Your fingers fell on the keys, causing a shrill sound. You interrupted the song to realize the situation. "Did I hear that right?" you wondered in shock. Your head turned slowly to face him. Sukuna was looking at you with a poker face. He looked like he was serious.

“Me? With you?” you asked between nervous stutters.

“No, with the piano.” Sukuna answered sarcastically. You looked at the piano in disbelief. “Of course with you, dumbass,” Sukuna laughed, offended that you were paying attention to the piano in the middle of an important conversation.

“What? Why? I'm just a servant,” you replied nervously before getting up from the stool to process the situation you were suddenly pushed into.

“Are you going to refuse your king's generous offer?” Sukuna challenged you. Your eyes widened at the question.

“Of course not. I couldn't,” you said so he wouldn't take it as an act of rebellion, still confused.

A blush seeped into your face. You knew the king liked you to a certain extent. You never thought he felt so strongly about you…if he did. It was common for people to marry for the benefits that came along with the papers. Social status, sex in excess, and access to wealth were things your mother talked about every time she instigated the concept of marriage to you and your sisters. The thing was, you had none of those things. Social status? 0. You were just a slave who was treated well. Excessive sex? No idea about that. You were more virgin than olive oil. Wealth? You're lucky your mother received money for you, she would have sold you for a sack of potatoes. In your eyes, you had nothing of value to offer him.

Sukuna approached you and grabbed your chin so you could look him in the eye. A small touch that made your breath hitch. He could read the insecurity in your eyes. It was funny. A week ago you had jumped into his arms from a deadly height without a second thought, but here you were, hesitating to marry the person you were meant to serve with your life. Sometimes he wondered where your moral line was.

“So? What’s stopping you?” Sukuna asked.

“I want to know what will happen once I accept,” you explained.

“I didn’t expect less.” Sukuna thought, satisfied. He knew that you were wiser than you looked. You knew you didn’t have where to run. It was written in stone that you would marry him, but you didn’t understand what that entailed. Sukuna approached one of the bookshelves to pull out a map. You got close to the table where he extended it. Small particles of dust flew like tiny fairies that shined against the light coming from the skylight. You had seen maps before, but never such detailed one. It had a golden edge and the representation of every castle was a tiny art piece.

“You see, I've been thinking about it a lot and I've come to the conclusion that someday I'm going to leave this earth,” he explained with great disappointment in his own mortal body. “So someone must take my place to rule the lands that belong to me.”

Sukuna pointed to the western part of the world in which they live. On a large peninsula was the kingdom of Sukuna, the only thing separating them from the rest of the world were huge mountain ranges. On the other side, there was the great kingdom of Jogo that was divided into small kingdoms that were owned by other curses�� or well, they were owned by other curses until Sukuna conquered them. Now all the kingdoms of the west coast were his. He only needed to conquer the rest of the kingdoms that were ruled under human hands like the Satoru and Zen'in kingdom.

“Uraume could do that,” you commented.

“That was my first idea, but Uraume is… too tenuous. They could never rule with an iron fist,” he explained without taking his eyes off the map. “I need to know that the person who will own all this will do a good job maintaining and expanding my legacy.”

“Do you think I can do it?” you asked in amazement.

“You?” Sukuna chuckled under his breath before looking at you. “Never. If Uraume is dim, you are harmless. You're as innocent as a little white rabbit from the prairies,” he said with a mischievous grin before grabbing you by the chin, one of his claws pointed at your jugular. One false move and he could rip it off with no issue.

You were completely at his mercy, how could you not be? He tripled you in everything. Size, power, intellect, evil… He had you beat in every possible way and there was nothing you could do about it. You were light years away if you had the stupid idea of reaching him, which you weren't even sure you wanted to do in the first place. You would never have the guts to even try to keep up with him.

“I need someone strong and a born leader.” That last word made you understand where this was all going. “I need an heir.”

Your eyes snapped open as your quick hypothesis was confirmed. "Having a child… with him?" you wondered as you saw the king for his race for the first time in a long time. He could behave like a ruthless human, but he was still an impressive monster. You didn't know if you were capable of giving him what he wanted.

“For that, I need you to become a queen to the level of being able to educate the next great mighty one who will be in charge of this great nation I will be forming until my time runs out,” he explained before rolling up the map to its original form. “Is that clear?”

“You still haven't answered my initial question,” you answered as you watched him put the map back in its place. “Why me? There are plenty of princesses out there who already have everything it takes to give an heir.”

“I can’t risk it,” Sukuna sighed, still turning his back to you. Her tattoos framed her shoulder blades beautifully under the translucent fabric. “Do you think one of those princesses would want to be with such a disgusting being like me?” You felt the need in your chest to say something.

“You are not a disgusting being,” you contradicted. Sukuna looked at you with a small smile escaping from his lips.

“Thank you, but I know what I'm talking about and I don't mind in the least,” he said before patting you on the head a couple of times. A fleeting act, but it set your body on fire. “If I kidnap any of them and take their bodies by force, they can kill the baby when I'm not looking,” he left his hand on your head and lowered his gaze to connect with yours. “You, on the other hand, I know you wouldn't be capable of such an atrocity, would you?”

He was absolutely right. Your mother had raised you for the simple but tedious purpose of being a good housewife and raising a rich man's children. Your life had been manufactured to do what the king was asking of you and you would do it perfectly.

“You are docile, obedient and attentive to my commands. I trust you will give me a strong heir and you will do everything necessary to satisfy me with the result,” he said as he examined your reaction. “And I will reward you greatly for it. If you accept, I will fill you with more luxuries and riches than you can dream of, take you to places you have never seen before and give you the most comfortable life in the world.”

Sukuna removed the hand on your head to see you from above as he used to do, a manipulation technique to make you feel smaller than you already were. If you refused, he would kill you. You knew it. His back was against the wall, but you were willing to do whatever it would take to be useful to him.

“Well? What do you say?”

“I agree. I will do whatever you ask gracefully,” you said before bowing to him out of respect.

A big smile appeared on his face. He had already done the hard part of his long term plan: finding a woman willing to be the mother of his children without complaining. He congratulated himself in his mind for accomplishing such a feat by having in his hands what he needed to lengthen his legacy. As pleased as he was, they still had a long road ahead of them.

“There is only one thing I need to know if you are really on my side,” Sukuna said with a mischievous smile. You arched an eyebrow at that unspoken part of the verbal contract. “I know you are loyal to me, but are you loyal enough?”

“What do you need me to do, my king?” You asked in confusion.

“You must kill one of your own kind.”

Your eyes widened after hearing that. It had never crossed your mind to do something as vile as that. You remembered all the blood spilled, the flesh cut off and the lives lost in front of your eyes during the 11 months you had been living with the king. You thought he was the one who would be in charge of doing that. You were not a murderer. Why should you do it? The question really was: Could you do it? You weren't sure, but you had to.

“As I now understand that this is against your nature. I will give you two months to process it and do it. As a test, I want you to deliver your head into my hands. Once you complete your task, I will ask you to marry me and we will begin trying for a child.”

You came back from your trip from shock to reality when you heard that he would propose to you. Something every girl your age yearns for with all their heart and soul. If your mother had heard that, she'd be dancing with excitement. Not giving a damn about the dastardly condition that came with it. You could already hear her screaming, "Do it, do it! It's our chance to get out of the shit!" You shook her voice from your mind and focused from what was in front of you. You tightened your skirt from the nerves of accepting something like that. You had no idea how to do it. You were just supposed to give someone's life, not take it away.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Good,” Sukuna pronounced satisfied before turning around to leave the room. You swallowed dryly before finding a seat.

“What did I get myself into?” You whispered as you hid in your hands.

The faint bells rang at 10 o'clock at night. Curfew for all servants. Everyone headed to the dungeon to sleep. You ran as fast as you could to catch up with the others in time. You knew that the servant who stayed outside would sleep with the curses. You had stayed the rest of the day in the game room trying to come up with a plan to kill someone, but your mind couldn't come up with one. You knew you had to kill one of the servants, since you doubted the king would let you leave the castle, but your chicken heart couldn't decide on a victim. You quickly reached the dungeon, ready to go to rest when a monotonous voice stopped you.

“Where are you going?” Uraume asked you as they checked the attendance list to make sure all the servants had already entered the cold dormitory.

“To sleep?” You answered confused.

“Follow me," they asked before lowering the bars of the dungeon.

You followed Uraume through the dark corridors of the castle. Corridors you recognized as the visiting rooms that were never used because the king never invited anyone to the castle. Uraume led you to the back room, a place you had never entered before. Your heart and eyes twitched curious to know what was on the other side. Elle pulled out a bunch of keys to open the heavy wooden door. On the other side, there was a beautiful room with a king-sized bed with silk sheets and curtains posing softly at the sides. You slowly stepped into the new environment to inspect it closely. It was larger than the rooms you had cleaned before. There was a giant closet with beautiful dresses hanging on padded hangers, a wooden dresser with a drawer full of jewelry, and a sleek quartz bathroom. Most impressive of all was the giant picture window in front of the bed. A bloody rose with tiny green thorns posed between navy blue and black glass.

“The king commissioned me to make this room especially for you. I hope it is to your liking.”

Uraume analyzed you as you sat on the bed to look out the window. They still remembered the day the king had asked him to make a special one that was on the level of a princess. She asked him who it was specifically for, but he refused to answer for the moment. At the time, they never thought it would be for you. They knew it had not been an easy decision. He had to take into account all the pros and cons that came with marrying and having a child with someone from the low class as you. Still, King Sukuna had finally decided to put you in training after months of cold thought.

“It is beautiful. Thank you, Uraume,” you smiled at them.

“Rest. The king is expecting you tomorrow at breakfast,” they bowed respectfully to you and closed the door behind him.

Seeing Uraume bowing like that surprised you as you were not used to it. You lay back on the bed to admire the small stars hand-painted with white paint on the stone ceiling. You smiled as you imagined Uraume painting them one by one with dedication. "The king commissioned this room for me, eh?" you thought as it dawned on you that he had in mind to marry you for a while. Your heart fluttered so much from excitement that it made you forget all responsibilities for a second.

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[rom-e-o]

NSFW Alphabet Headcanons (Emmrich/F!Rook)

Well, after waiting 10 years for Veilguard to come out, I’ve been enjoying it! So much so that I’ve gotten very carried away with my F!Rook OC, Belisma Ingvellar. And completely fell in love with her relationship with Emmrich.

@quill-pen had the amazing idea to do this exercise for them, sooo … away we go~ Thank you, and I hope it's a fun read!

Some background: Belisma is a 35-year-old Mourn Watch mage. Bookish and a bit awkward (she’d rather read tomes and dance ballet than lead troops against ancient gods), but she has a kind heart and can’t say no, especially when nobody else deserves the stress of saving the world.

18+ only OC content below cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Although she’s usually completely tuckered out after every tryst with Emmrich, Belisma always offers to assist with aftercare and clean-up. However, being the strict gentleman he is, Emmrich will not let her lift a finger.

Does she need a washcloth? He will fetch it, and make sure it’s soft and warm. Does she want water? He’ll get a pitcher. He’s even offered to carry her to the tub (Belisma is a fairly slender woman, about 110 lbs, but even then, she doesn’t love the idea of him carrying her in such an exhausted state.) He’ll do it though, and run her bath too.

Emmrich is a giving and sensual man, before, during and after any and all activities.

"Emmrich, this is too much! You don’t need to …" "Nothing is too much for you, my dearest. And I assure you, when we’re here, like this, I enjoy every moment."

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Emmrich: His favorite body part of hers is her collarbone. Just watching how the cords of her neck lead into those symmetrical, flared clavicles captivates him. He loves to run his lips along the bone, all the way to the acromion bump on the outer edge of the scapula. The delicate but complex bone structure is always something he’d admired during educational dissections, but that fascination takes on new meaning when he feels her skin flutter and flush beneath his lips during kisses. She feels alive. It’s exhilarating.

If asked what his favorite part of his body is, at first, he’d say his hands. But if you really pressed him to be honest, his arms. You don’t hold your limbs aloft and spend hours conjuring the dead with the grace of a musical conductor without getting some nice definition.

These are also the parts of him that he most adorns in jewelry and grave gold via rings and bracelets.

Belisma: She loves his back muscles and spine. Emmrich will say he’s too slender or thin, and that his ribs are too noticeable, but she disagrees. Watching the muscles of his back move and flex, even when he does something as simple as shift in his sleep, hypnotizes her. Those amazing shoulder blades, the contour of his spine … she kisses each point often. Sometimes Emmrich rolls over to return her kisses. Other times, gods forgive him, he feigns sleep so he can lay there and let her do it. Because it feels amazing, and he still can’t believe he’s not dreaming.

She loves her hair. It’s long and braided, and strong as a dang rope from how she tends to it. Also, from her years dancing ballet, she does think her calves are nice (and they are – she EARNED those muscles).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Emmrich is a fastidious and tidy man. That being said, bodily fluids don’t disgust him. They’re natural, after all, especially when specific activities and positions are involved.

After eating her out, the scent and taste of her arousal lingering on his lips and moustache delights him. As does the aroused look on her face when he licks it off.

Belisma, also being a member of the Mourn Watch and also having clinical experience, views bodily fluids somewhat neutrally. They don’t turn her on specifically, but she knows her own wickedness and uses them to her advantage. If he drips or cums on her early or too soon, she won’t clean herself up. Instead, she’ll slide her fingers through it, bring it to her lips, or use it as lube on his cock.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

They could never do it, but they share fantasies of it – having sex at his work desk in the Lighthouse. And not quickies – full, bold, sensual, fully-undressed sex. With the doors open. The idea delights, but no. Even if their companions knew to stay away, Manfred would not. And Hezenkoss would be HIGHLY displeased.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Emmrich is quite experienced. He’s been with ladies and gentlemen, and knows his charms (as well as his likes and dislikes in the bedroom). He’s dated and easily found companionship, but each eventually fell through. He always wanted love, commitment and marriage. He's in it for the long-run.

Belisma dated some, but her only serious relationship was with another mage named Cyril. They separated because, surprise, he didn’t want commitment. And for Belisma, he wasn’t worth the effort.

Neither are virgins, but Belisma definitely isn’t as experienced as he is. He did have a head start, though, haha, to be fair. He groans when she playfully brings that up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Belisma loves to ride him. She gets to feel him proudly jutting up into her, and he gets to lean back and focus solely on grinding up into her. Win-win. After she comes, she switches to more of a bouncing motion, which quickly brings him to whimpering ruin beneath her.

Emmrich gets to admire her face, feel her bum smacking his thighs, and watch her small tits bounce with each thrust. So, it gets a thumbs-up from him too. Doggy-style is also favorite because of how deep it allows him to go.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Emmrich takes romance and sex very seriously. After all, like we established, he is a man who wants love. True love. Marriage. He wants a lifelong commitment and partnership. As such, he takes lovemaking very seriously. He’s not a silent statue during it, of course, but he’s not cracking jokes, haha. He wants to make sure she feels good, is enjoying herself, and is as ‘in the moment’ as he is. He’s attentive.

He might smile and laugh afterward, when they’re laying together in the afterglow of it all, but in the moment? He is very serious and focused.

Belisma is also quite serious when it comes to their time in bed together. She’s a little awkward and bookish, and she knows that. If she tries to joke or force levity, it would ruin the mood and come across as less than genuine, and she values him too much for that.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

We know Emmrich is meticulous about grooming, bathing and shaving.

He’s got some salt-and-pepper chest hair that matches the thatch between his legs, but he’s not overly hairy otherwise. Pretty sparse, to match his in-game model. He bathes daily (and after any workout/battle) and always takes care to present himself perfectly with the poise and grace expected of him.

Belisma will get so engrossed in work that she’ll accidentally go days without bathing, but she wouldn’t sleep with Emmrich in those moments. She’d bathe before any intimacy. For her hair, she washed and makes sure to condition, oil, brush and smooth it properly. Her hair, ideally, is braided. If it’s braided and up, she needs to wash it. If she’s donned a hood, it’s … been a rough/busy week. She does shave her legs and under her arms. Between her legs, she keeps hair trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Emmrich and Belisma are slow, sensual lovers. Nothing is fast, frantic, or quick. They always take their time with foreplay and undressing. LOTS of slow kissing, sighs and words of affirmation. The romance of every encounter is very important and non-negotiable for them. Both are very likely to set up their rooms or even decorate.

For example, if Emmrich plans to bring Belisma to his chamber, the bed is made and cleaned, a fire is roaring with cinnamon-scenter timber. There will be wine, music and a gradual build-up to their coupling.

Belisma will do the same. If he comes to her quarters, she makes sure to clean the entire room beforehand, and make sure everything is perfumed. She also makes dinner for him frequently (rarebit is a favorite), and always makes hazelnut torte for dessert. She even has sleep clothes and a dressing gown for him (in lilac, his favorite color) at the ready.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

One they’re a couple, they do experiment with watching each other masturbate and seeing who gives in first and crosses the room to the other. (They keep a playful tally – a straight tie, right down the middle. The ‘loser’ from the previous time owes the other a drink for next time.)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Emmrich: Very light bondage, wax play (all those candles come in handy, and the dripping wax is exhilarating) and praise. This man yearns for sweet, sweet words.

Belisma: Praise. Praise, praise, PRAISE KINK all day long. She’ll try anything once (the candle wax is fun, she’ll admit).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Their bedrooms, mostly because they know they won’t be interrupted. By people, or by Manfred. Thankfully, even with gloves, his skeletal hands aren’t dexterous enough to turn a key in a locked door. Obviously, their first time was in the coffin in the Necropolis, which was also nice and private (but a bit cold).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

At the dinner date with Rook, he admits that it’s been a while since he’s enjoyed anyone’s company. Handling semesters of students, keeping matters at bay in the Necropolis, and teaching Manfred takes time, after all.

Emmrich really doesn’t need a ton of motivation, honestly. He’s been waiting for this forever – finding someone to love and cherish. Someone to read with in bed, or dance with at the end of a long night when gentle music enters through a cracked window.

As for what turns him on, he will admit that he loves to watch her dance. Belisma was a ballet dancer for many years after all. She’s graceful, and the art shows off her skeletal and muscular forms quite perfectly. Seeing her jump and twirl so effortlessly, hair spinning behind her, her cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat forming across her chest and face? Color him very interested.

Belisma gets turned on, honestly, by seeing him happy. He’s so reserved usually that seeing him get giddy or ramble about a new discovery or relic just makes her want to take his face between her hands and smooch him silly. Also, when he’s focused at his work desk, that also makes for quite a lovely picture. She’ll bring him tea and find him looking at thesis submission from student, glasses perched on his nose, head down, gaze focused. It’s a dreamy picture. Then, when he notices her, and his entire demeanor shifts to one of excitement (“Isma, darling! Hello!”) her entire body blushes every time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything non-con or sadistic is a no for both. Also, they are not interested in any third parties. Spectators or participants.

When she is in ANY kid of pain, it causes him immense distress.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Emmrich prefers to give oral. Not that he’ll say no to Belisma on her knees, taking him into his mouth (not at all) but it’s just not his preferred method of intimacy. He can’t see her face as well when she blows him, and honestly, he wants to be able to look at her. To admire the subtle changes in her expression during intercourse. Oral complicates that. Yet, he does LOVE to give oral. The entire time, his eyes stare up at her, watching her blissed out expression. He uses on hand to furiously pump his own cock while he moans and licks into her. The sounds alone are enough to bring him to ruin.

Belisma loves both. She’s a little shy about receiving it the first time, especially since Cyril never liked doing it) so he puts it off. What if she tastes/smells bad? What if she looks weird down there? Emmrich catches on eventually, and asks her:

“Isma, I can’t help but notice … when I’m pleasuring you, my hands and fingers are welcome, but when I lean down, you always stop me. I can only use my hands, if that’s why you want, but I want to be certain.” “Oh. I’m sorry. Um, yes, hands are fine. I’m used to that. I guess I’m just a little…” “Self-conscious?” “Yes. I’m sorry, that’s immature of me.” “Hardly. It’s a matter of immense vulnerability. Darling, we’ll move at your pace. If you’d like to try it, just say the word. I’ll just add this, if it happens to help; I know there are foolish schoolboys who think women should taste like sugar cubes and smell like roses between their legs. I am a man with no such expectations.”

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual, all the way. The only time things get ‘rough’ is when they’re about to climax. Emmrich will grab her hips and pick up the pace to something a little more punishing. Belisma will tug his hair and bit his shoulder as her body clenches around him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Nope. If there is not enough time for the full wooing process, there is no sex. I really can’t stress how important intimacy and romance is for these two, haha.

Emmrich especially. He’s a man, and his anatomy doesn’t require as much … preparation. Belisma? Without foreplay, things can be painful for her, and that thought sickens him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

They are way more game for experimenting than risk-taking. ‘Experimenting’ implies genuine interest and carnal fascination. ‘Risk-taking’ feels … unnecessary, haha. Like, would they risk having sex in their private theatre box next time they go see the Nevarran Ballet perform ‘Faustina’? No, not during the show. Buuut after the show ends, and they lock the door and pull the curtains? That’s an experiment in semi-public sex. Way more comfortable and controlled for them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

So, Emmrich is 52-55. Belisma is 35. They’re not mating like bunnies, but they have impressive stamina. Both are quick and spry on the battlefield. His refractory period is definitely existent, but that’s fine. They mostly talk between rounds, because frankly, that’s what they love most.

“My, that lilac lingerie was a delightful surprise. Where did you come across it?” “Oh, Neve recommended my to this fabulous boutique! A little pricey, but—” “Definitely worth it, if I may say so.”

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Both of them do, haha. You’re not single for decades without investing in some good tools to tide you over. They’re also both adults. I imagine Emmrich (who seems to have been quite the rambunctious/flirtatious youth) frequented them quite a bit as he found companionship with other ladies and gentlemen.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

They both loooove to tease the other. Flirtatious looks, winks, holding hands under the dinner table. It's fun, and for them, it's getting to enjoy that teenage-esque delight of being cute and in-love for a bit.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

They can be loud, but it’s harder for them. Stealing moments with each other and keeping things slow can sometimes mean their engagements are on the quieter side.

They sometimes need reminders that it’s okay to make noise. It’s okay to sigh, and moan, and cry out the other’s name. Belisma loves when Emmrich grunts or gasps against her. She’s so used to him appearing composed, it’s exciting being the one that makes such a gentleman comes beautifully undone.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Emmrich: After he starts seeing Belisma, his morning workouts and exercises become a little more intense. He wants to be able to keep up with her, you know. She’s around 20 years younger, after all.

As for Belisma: She had a stuffed nug from when her parents left her as an infant. It was bundled in her swaddling cloth. She still has it, and even sleeps with it sometimes. She does NOT want Emmrich to know (how embarrassing, she’s 35!) but Manfred finds it one day and brings it to her while she and Emmrich are talking.

“Pet!” “Where did you … Manfred, did you use your allowance to buy a toy? Hm … it looks well-loved.” Then Manfred gives it to Belisma. “Rook! Pet!” “Oh. Is that yours?” Emmrich asks, blinking.

Oh, she could have died on the spot. He just laughs and says it’s sweet. Then lightly chastises Manfred for going through people’s belongings.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We’ve discussed body hair already. As for anatomy, Emmrich looks … decently endowed, honestly. There’s some noticeable cargo down there, even when he’s completely casual.

He’s quite thin and slender, especially with his height. His muscles are decently toned, but there is a softness to him. Nothing is cleanly cut or defined but he is trim. Even a little gaunt, especially around his ribs and hips.

Belisma is also very slender and thin. Even bony in some places. She has s smaller chest (B-cups) and noticeable hip dips.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

SO HIGH. They may not have the energy to mate like bunnies, but they go for hours. And they can jump in and out as needed. For example, they’ll make love, stop to make dinner, eat, then have sex again, then bathe (doing another round in the tub) then finish up with one last round in bed.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Belisma always falls asleep first. And she is out like a light, snoozing away. She also talks in her sleep, haha.

Emmrich takes time to fall asleep. It’s just harder for him, but watching her sleep and breathe beside him is an immense help for soothing his own worries. She calms him better than tea and lavender, and he’s at his most relaxed when they’re sharing a bed together, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

[mariabtsos]

Never Ending ||m.yg||

Description: wasn't Yoongi the one that was supposed to give you flowers for no reason?

Genre: One-shot, Yoongi x f!reader, established relationship, fluff, Yoongi is literally the sweetest man alive (wbk)

WARNINGS: None, this idea came after seeing this really sweet like reddit post, it will be at the end of this post.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Ever since coming back from service, BTS’ comeback preparations had been nonstop. It was almost like their debut days, they started early and ended late, whether they were practicing the choreography for a new song or recording their parts again, or getting back into recording RUN BTS.

You and Yoongi had seen very little of each other, working almost opposite schedules with a Saturday or Sunday off sprinkled in where you would mostly sleep and catch up on what you had going on so far, having those little moments made all the time you missed him worth it, you loved them, it was how you were able to build your relationship in the first place.

You and him met when your best friend practically begged for you to come with her to a double date. Yoongi was the one you were paired with, and you connected almost instantly. You had so much in common, more specifically your mutual love for music and the art behind it, you had small dates where he would take you to his small studio space, he'd told you he was a trainee, and that he was set to debut soon with the guy your friend was on a date with.

A year later, the guy your friend dated didn't debut, but Yoongi did, and that's when the small gestures started, you were at every music show that you could be at, bought every album, and went to every showcase or small gig you could afford. Yoongi showed his gratitude in small ways, he would get you a single rose, or a small cheap necklace, or if he wanted to really treat you he'd save up and take you to a nice restaurant. And as his success grew he was able to give you more, although he wasn't one for extravagant gifts, he always gave you something that made you feel special.

Even whilst he was serving, at the end of each week when he came home he'd bring you flowers and your favorite food, you had never felt more loved.

And now that he was back, you wanted to show him just as much gratitude. He was working so hard to make their first comeback grandiose, and even if he was exhausted, he'd spend his days off spending his time with you only sleeping if you were accompanying him.

You decided to do something simple, you found a flower shop that did the most beautiful arrangements and you called, setting something up that you imagined Yoongi would like; they even gave you the choice to add some fruits, and what better for your boyfriend than to give him the absolute love of his life, tangerines. You hoped this would help him relax a bit, and feel your support even if you didn’t see each other much.

“Okay guys, why don’t you take five, hmm?” Sungdeuk announced to the room, the seven men and their backup dancers immediately heading for water or laying flat on the floor, the latter was Yoongi’s case.

“I said it in 2013 and I’ll say it again, I was told we would only rap, not dance,” Yoongi’s breathing was heavy as he spoke, causing his hyung and Jungkook who were laying on the floor to laugh. “This is good for you hyungs, at your old age you need to exercise to keep your joints healthy,” the maknae giggled, followed by chuckles and laughter around the room from their members and some of the dancers.

“Yah!” Jin yelled as he smacked Jungkook in the back of the neck.

“Yoongi-ssi!” he sat up as he heard their manager’s voice from the practice room door, “come to my office please,” Yoongi nodded, carefully standing up from his spot on the floor, softly kicking Jungkook after he loudly announced he was in trouble.

Yoongi giggled at the the whole thing, his mind slowly making his way back to you, he didn’t have to record anything today, maybe he’d go to his studio later and call you, yeah, that’s what he would do, they were told they wouldn’t be here till midnight today, and that they could sleep in tomorrow before they had to do some photoshoots for their upcoming album, so that meant he could get home before you did and make you dinner. You worked as a nurse, and unfortunately had been assigned 12-hour shifts the past couple of months; going into work at noon and getting out at midnight, by the time you got home and ready for bed, Yoongi would arrive, exhausted, but he still would want to at least have small conversation, your relationship was built with communication, and he wasn’t one to disregard it.

He met the man at the door and followed him to the elevator, reaching the floor where the offices were, they made it to his quickly, where Yoongi’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets when he noticed a medium-sized vase with a beautiful arrangement of flowers and small basket of tangerines. A little white piece of paper stuck out in the middle of all the flowers, Yoongi opened and he smiled so wide.

From Yn, just because. I love you ♡

“As you can tell, they are for you,” the manager chuckled humorously, “you better not fuck it up with her Yoongi-ssi,” he said candidly.

“I haven’t fucked up in 10 years, I don’t plan on starting now,” he kept re-reading your note, he thought your handwriting was beautiful, even when you didn’t.

When he made it back to the practice room with his flowers and tangerines his members immediately started teasing him, especially Jungkook. “Look at our hyung with his flowers! And they say chivalry is dead,” he would say, “yeah hyung, I thought you’re the one that’s meant to get her flowers?” Taehyung added, grabbing him by shoulders and ruffling his hair.

“Yah! Stop it, Ynie is sweet for doing this, don’t see how Yoongi hyung’s face is about to split into two?” Namjoon pointed out smiling, his dimples showing proudly. 

They had lived together for 13 years after all, all Namjoon wanted was for his hyung to be happy, and the fact that you did that for him had his heart swelling with warmth. You were so good for Yoongi.

“I need you guys to talk me off of running to the jewelry store and getting her a ring,” the room went silent.

“You don’t have one already?!” Hobi piped up, smacking his shoulder, his good shoulder. Yoongi shook his head.

The guys look at each other, and then at Sungdeuk, “I don’t think no one’s going to talk you off of it Yoongi-ah, in fact, I think everyone should take the rest of the afternoon off,” he announced loudly, “you six, please help him set up,” he asked the other members who immediately pulled the cat-eyed man, grabbing all their stuff, including the flowers and tangerines, and headed out to prepare.

It was 8pm

They had made it to the jeweler just in time, they were lucky he owed Jimin a favor, otherwise Yoongi would’ve had to wait, and he sincerely didn’t think he could.

You guys had started talking more seriously about marriage about 5 years into your relationship, mainly because you had started to feel scared that with idol life, Yoongi would enjoy not being entirely tied down to a person. Thankfully that wasn't the case, and he'd promised you, when the time was right, he would get down on one knee.

He wasn't sure why it took him 10 years to come through with that promise.

Yoongi was grateful for your late nights of conversation after that, every so often you would have little YouTube marathons that would start with alcohol reviews and end in proposals, and he had remembered every comment you made about those rings, he’d also remembered the comments you’d made when one of your friends got engaged. He was able to find a beautiful ring, something he knew you’d like. His members helped get all the materials he needed, as they rushed to your shared apartment and started decorating the place, Yoongi and Jin cooked whilst the rest added finishing touches, at some point Jungkook went and got his camera, stating he’d be the one to stay so he could capture the moment.

Yoongi could complain about the maknae all he wanted, but there was no one as loyal and dedicated to his friends as him.

It was 11:30pm when they were finished, Jungkook and Yoongi were saying goodbye to the others as they made their way into the car they would have to share back to the HYBE building so they could get their own vehicles, they had all ran around in Yoongi’s car, a medium-sized SUV that barely fit all of them, but they managed.

“I call shotgun! I deserve it after going in hyung’s trunk,” Jimin ran after he had said his goodbyes, with Taehyung following closely behind as he whined about him getting shotgun, the rest walked away at a normal pace, not eager to deal with the soulmates and the game of rock-paper-scissors that they would certainly be playing.

Yoongi was pacing around, it was 12:48am now, you’d be home any minute now, Jungkook had hid behind the black sectional in your living room, thankful you had left some space between it and your wall due to the heating system. Yoongi started serving dinner, he’d kept it as warm as he could so that you could enjoy a warm meal before he asked what he believed to be one of the most important questions of your lives.

He heard the digital ping of you punching in the door code and he knew there was no backing out now.

You opened the door to find your house lit by small candles, your dining room table set up with your good plate set, and the flowers you had sent Yoongi as a centerpiece.

“Hi baby,” Yoongi smiled widely as approached you, kissing your lips softly, as if he was savoring you, “hey,” you sighed as he pulled away, as always he took your breath away, “did I miss an important day? Our anniversary has already passed, hasn't it?” you went through the different options nervously, and Yoongi could only chuckle at your silly concerns.

“No baby, I just wanted to thank you for the flowers,” he explained, taking your jacket off and grabbing your bag, putting them both away. You took off your shoes and slipped on your home one on, walking hand in hand with your boyfriend.

He pulled a chair out for you, you whispered a thank you and sat down; Yoongi left a kiss on your hair and went to sit down himself. He’d cooked your favorite meal, you both started eating, it was a comfortable silence at first, which you broke when Yoongi sat up to clean your dishes after you were both done. “How early did they let you all out for you to have pulled this off?” you asked him, supporting your chin on your fist as you watched him.

“Maybe…8:30?”

Your mouth dropped, he’d invested this much time to thank you for something so simple like flowers? You truly didn’t deserve him. Once he was done, he scrolled through his phone a bit, selecting one of the songs on the 3rd CD of Proof, he walked toward you and held out his hand, you recognized “Quotation Mark” almost immediately.

“We’re planning on making it a full group song,” Yoongi explained as he spun you around, making you giggle, how he wished to hear that sound forever.

And maybe, after tonight he would.

He danced around you, because truly they were planning on making it an OT7 song, and there was this bit of the choreo he had added for the purpose of what his plans were tonight. He truly hoped Jungkook was recording this, if you said yes like he hoped you would, he wanted to rewatch this every day until you were married, and eventually show it to your children. Here it came, the part that he’d be taking over once the song was done, the first half of Hobi’s rap was perfect for this. 

“...Today, I make sure to throw my heart to you first, a safe landing with you, the catcher,” He got down one knee, pulling out the small velvety box from his pocket, you hands immediately covering your nose and mouth in shock, your eyes filled with tears as the song went on, Yoongi had stopped after he found himself tearing up.

“I’ve always known you were the one for me, you’ve been with me when I was nobody and when success came, you kept me humble, you kept my feet on the ground whilst being one of my biggest support systems. I told you when the time came, I’d get down on one knee, and your kind gesture today was what tied it all together for me, I don’t care if people think it’s not that big of a deal, it was to me.” your chuckled mixed with your sobs, “I want to be able to hear you giggle every day, and selfish as it maybe, I want you to be mine forever, would you marry me, Ynie?” the words left his mouth miraculously, as he was fully sobbing now.

Did your small gesture truly lead him to such a big decision? To join your lives as one was something you had dreamed of for a while, hell recently you’d had a dream of yourself and Yoongi dancing in what felt like cloud, with a beautiful white dress and him in one of those suits that made him look like absolute prince, you could only assume you dreamt of your wedding day.

“Baby my heart’s about to fall out of my ass please say yes,” he chuckled nervously, bringing you out of your thoughts. Poor guy, he’s probably watching you watch him and he’s thinking the worst.

“I’d like nothing more,” you thought Yoongi’s face would split in two, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a tight hug “and I promise to send you pretty flowers and tangerines every chance I get, for the rest of our lives,” you whispered. Yoongi couldn’t help himself, pulling away slightly so he could give you the kiss of a lifetime, he knew how much you love his lips.

“She didn’t say no hyungs!” You heard Jungkook’s distinct giggle and muffled cheers.

“You FaceTimed them?!” Yoongi whined, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His dongsaeng walked out of his hiding spot, camera in one hand phone on another hand, “I thought you were recording with it!”

“I was recording with my Samsung, you know when you post this video they’ll want to see that,” the younger rolled his eyes, bringing the camera over so you could see the pictures.

“I wish I wasn’t wearing scrubs for this,” you complained, thanking your lucky stars there was no puking or excess of blood spilled on you tonight.

“You could’ve worn a burlap sack and Yoongi hyung would still think you’re the most gorgeous person alive noona,” Jungkook laughed, causing your fiancé to blush intensely. And between the guys congratulating you and Yoongi actually putting the ring on your finger, it really hit you that he was now your fiancé, and that your biggest dream had come true.

Your life would have a never ending amount of love, laughter and chaos, and you wouldn’t want anything else when it came to Yoongi.

A/N:

Hello! Sorry this took so long to get to you! I had a plan for this and when I saw this particular like reddit story thing I just NEEDED to do it with Yoongi. I hope y'all like it!

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 11

Taking Care of Your Body

Hi Goddesses! How are you feeling today after focusing on regulating your emotions? It’s a big step, right? Knowing that we can handle whatever comes our way gives us so much more power. But today, let’s shift gears a little and talk about our bodies, our physical well-being. After all, emotional regulation and physical health are like two sides of the same coin. They feed into each other.

I’m sure you’ve heard it a million times: “You need to take care of yourself.” But, let’s be real, it can be hard to know where to start. Sometimes, health can feel like one big overwhelming task. Whether it’s exercise, eating better, or just getting enough sleep, there always seems to be something else that gets in the way.

Let’s start with a truth we can all agree on: health isn’t about drastic changes that leave you feeling burned out. If you’ve ever tried to stick to a crazy fitness routine or overhauled your diet only to feel completely defeated by the end of the week, you’re not alone. I’ve been there too.

Let me share some real-life, totally doable ways to make healthy changes that actually stick.

Starting Your Day

Instead of jumping into an intense morning routine, try this: When you first wake up, before even checking your phone, take three deep breaths and stretch your arms overhead. That's your baseline. From there, you might naturally want to add:

A glass of water with lemon

A 5-minute gentle stretch

Opening the curtains to get some natural light (game-changer for energy levels!)

Making Movement Fun

Here's a secret I wish I'd known earlier: exercise doesn't have to feel like punishment! Start by finding what you enjoy:

Love chatting? Make walking phone calls your thing

Enjoy music? Have a 10-minute dance party while cleaning

Like structure? Try the "commercial break challenge", move during every TV commercial

Work at a desk? Set a timer for hourly 2-minute stretch breaks

Better Sleep Habits

Remember: good sleep makes everything else easier! Here's what works:

Create a relaxing bedtime routine, dim lights an hour before bed

Keep your bedroom slightly cool

Try reading instead of scrolling on your phone

Use the 10-minute rule: just lie down with no pressure to sleep, often you'll naturally drift off

Simple Nutrition Changes

Instead of restrictive diets, try these gentle additions:

Add one fruit or veggie to whatever you're already eating

Keep a water bottle where you can see it

Try filling half your plate with vegetables when possible

Keep healthy snacks handy for hungry moments

Combining New Habits With Old Ones

Here's my favorite trick: attach new healthy habits to things you already do:

Do counter push-ups while waiting for coffee

Stretch while watching your favorite show

Take the stairs when checking work emails on your phone

Drink water every time you check social media

Tips That Really Work:

Track your habits without judging yourself

Celebrate small wins (seriously, even taking the stairs counts!)

Have backup plans for busy days

Find a friend to check in with (anyone in the comments want to pair up?)

This Week's Challenge

Pick ONE thing from any category above that feels almost too easy. That's your starting point. For example, I started with just the morning stretch - three days later, I naturally wanted to add water, and a week later, I was craving a morning walk.

Share in the comments: What's your ONE thing going to be? Remember how we talked about being gentle with ourselves yesterday? That applies here too! No pressure to be perfect, we're just adding tiny doses of goodness to our days.

P.S. Don't forget, it's totally okay to modify any of these suggestions to fit your life. The best healthy habit is the one you'll actually keep doing!

See you tomorrow for Day 12!

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[applesaucesims]

It was only his second proper ballet lesson, but Louis still felt like a fish out of water. The other boys seemed to know exactly what they were doing, especially César, who had been learning pretty much his entire life.

So, trying to regain his usually so much more confident self, he took to asking his classmate for advice. César seemed to feel very secure in his own skills, so much so that he admitted that dancing just came to him naturally. When it came down to it, he did not recall ever worrying about what could go wrong. Instead, he'd just let his own body lead the way.

While this so-called advice felt a bit more like brag, Louis could read between the lines and apply it to his situation. He had definitely been worrying too much about how he compared to the other students, but there really was no reason to. Everybody had to start somewhere, and they were all here for the same reason - to learn to be a better dancer. So, pushing his worries aside for the moment, Louis let his body flow as it felt right, and for the first time, he felt like he was really a part of the class.

The class's warmup exercises were interrupted, when a man wearing a jacket similar to the students' own uniform cleared his throat behind them. The man introduced himself as Mr. Booth, the teacher who would host the boys' lessons, while the girls were with Miss Lambert. His aura was almost as intimidating as Miss Lambert's, though his casual stance and small smile softened it the tiniest bit.

As Mr. Booth continued introducing his teachings, he made his way to the still silent gramophone, next to which he discarded his jacket and shirt, until he was dressed down to his undershirt. His outfit almost seemed akin to that of the students now, which already gave them indication enough for what his next moves would be.

Gracefully, Mr. Booth started performing a short and simple dance routine. Though it was not quite the same, Louis almost felt transported back into the theatre loge, watching the professional dancers perform on stage. Really, Mr. Booth was a profession, too, so perhaps it was not that different after all.

However, the one big difference was that this dance was performed specifically for the class to practice. Mr. Booth went through the routine one more time, before encouraging his students to repeat after him. Louis watched as his teacher turned to play a classical record on the gramophone, while his own nerves started dancing all over the place again. "Take a deep breath," he thought to himself. "Just let go."

The students formed a line next to their teacher, as they waited for his countdown, and soon the line started moving back and forth, repeating the moves they had just learned. Somehow, the music helped lessen the nerves, too, as it drowned out any worries.

Bit by bit, Louis could feel the moves becoming easier with every run. Soon, his mind faded out his surroundings, and he started imagining himself performing on the big stage. Feeling light as a feather now, a smiled formed on his face, not disappearing again for the rest of the school day.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Louis: "I don't know..."

César: "You're too tense, Lou. Just... take a deep breath, recentre yourself, focus, and.. just let go!"

...

Mr. Booth: "Ahem. Good morning, boys!"

"morning" / "good morning" / "morning"

Mr. Booth: "My name is Mr. Booth. Miss Lambert might have already mentioned me to you."

Mr. Booth: "Yesterday, you already discussed some basics. Did some warmups for what's to come. But, today..."

*crack*

Mr. Booth: "I want you to get into the practice of it all! I've been trained to dance, just like you will be. One thing that's always helped me is visual learning. So, let me demonstrate."

...

Mr. Booth: "Alright. Your turn."

[gabessquishytum]

Was reminiscing about a part of my life I sort of just forgot about and decided to make it dreamling. Yolo.

Dream is incredibly insecure about his body. He’s always wearing tons of layers and long coats and doing everything possible to hide how unattractive he thinks he is. Then for his birthday, Desire signs him up for pole dancing classes (they frame it very teasingly, but in truth they really do think it would be good for their brother. They’d never say that to his face though). Luckily they have Death on their side and manage to convince him to at least try out one class.

He shows up very very nervous. He’s wearing exercise clothes, but still as fully covered as he can be and practically shrinking into himself. But the studio is honestly… very comfortable. The lights are dim, and there’s soft music playing and pillows on the ground, and while the poles are very intimidating, there’s not a single mirror in the whole place. And of course, the instructor is so welcoming and soothing, and so patient with Dream’s nervousness (and the nerves of the other students- it’s a little relieving almost to know he’s not the only one insecure and nervous). It also helps, Dream is a little ashamed to admit, that the instructor doesn’t look the way he expected. He’s heavier set, with abundant body hair, and loose torn up gym clothes.

As the class goes on, Dream feels… better than he expected. Everyone else is learning with him, there’s no mirrors to obsess over what he looks like, and they’re all encouraged to be vocal in their compliments and encouragement to each other. Dream starts to feel more in touch with his body, feeling how it moves to do the simple spins they start with. The instructor always reminds them- here, they’re dancing for themselves. If they feel good, then that’s what matters.

And at the end of the class, the students all take a seat on the pillows on one side of the room, and are told to pick a song for their instructor to perform a dance to. He improvs a simple routine, but incorporates the moves they learned in that day's class, while also showing them how those moves are foundational for more complex spins and tricks, and how they can all build together into a cohesive dance. Dream is enraptured, watching how strong and elegant he is, but also how happy and how comfortable he seems. Dream realizes that more than looking any certain way, he wants, so badly, to feel like that.

Hob gets it. He’s been there. He used to be so down and negative about his body, too caught up in his insecurities to really live life. He got lucky that his friend Johanna dragged him to his first pole dancing class. He got even luckier that the instructor, Eleanor, was so kind and patient with him, even as he fumbled and resisted any pushback to his negative self worth. He learned a lot in those classes- he learned how amazing his body really was, and developed an honest passion for pole dancing, which was lovingly encouraged by his instructor-turned-wife. When Eleanor passed, he took over the studio in her honor.

Apparently, he’s following in her footsteps more than he expected… by falling for one of his students.

-🦇

Pole dancing Hob!!!! We all need a pole dancing Hob!!!!

Dream is surprised to find that he wants to go back to the class a second time. He's even more surprised that he finds the courage to take off his hoodie and do the class with bare arms - considering how much he generally covers up, its a big step for him. He's a little overwhelmed, honestly, and finds himself lingering in the studio after the class is over. He's trying to soak up how the place makes him feel, hoping that he can take some of that feeling home with him.

Hob notices him and the two end up sitting on the cushions together, where Dream admits that he's struggling with these complex thoughts about his body and self worth. He makes some kind of throwaway remark - "I wish I looked more like you, I wish i had your confidence." and Hob chuckles gently. He explains that it took him a long time to be at peace with his body. He spent way too long over-exercising and trying to maintain a physique that just wasn't healthy for him. Now he considers himself to be in the best shape of his life because he's HAPPY, and having a bit of cushioning is just an added bonus.

Dream is a little bit in awe. He's never had an honest conversation about bodies and stuff like that before. He's maybe a tiny bit in love with Hob already, and it only has a little bit to do with his incredible arse.

And honestly, Hob is a little bit in awe of Dream. He sees true courage in his new student's eyes as he takes to the pole each week, learning new skills and even developing bonds with the other students. It's kind of sexy seeing a man confront his fears and experience personal growth. Maybe Hob will make a move... After he's finished choreographing an intricate routine for them to perform, together <3