#back and core strength exercises

[technicallyhappyarcade]

How to Incorporate Strength Pilates Exercise into Your Fitness

"Strength Pilates Exercise" is a dynamic fitness regimen that combines the core-strengthening principles of Pilates with the benefits of resistance training. This holistic approach to fitness enhances muscular strength, flexibility, and overall body tone. Through controlled movements and mindful breathing, Strength Pilates Exercise not only builds a strong core but also targets various muscle groups, promoting balance and stability. It's an ideal choice for individuals seeking a comprehensive workout that improves posture, reduces the risk of injury, and increases overall vitality. Whether you're a fitness enthusiast or a beginner, Strength Pilates Exercise offers a low-impact yet highly effective path to achieving a leaner, stronger, and more resilient body.

[gotjacobian]

not the first or last time I’ll visit this topic but taking physical skill-type classes sucks so much less as an adult where I’m allowed to say “hey doing X hurts, is that bad and if so can you help me adjust it or give me something else to do”

[justposting1]

Ditch the Gym: Build Core Strength with This 4-Move Pilates Routine

Strengthen Your Core Anytime, Anywhere with These Simple Pilates Moves Here are some engaging ideas and tips to structure your article on “You Don’t Need the Gym to Build Core Strength, Just This Four-Move Pilates Routine”: 1. Introduction: Break the Gym Myth Brief Answer:You don’t need a gym or expensive equipment to build core strength. Pilates offers an effective, low-impact alternative…

[cressidagrey]

Mr Oblivious

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Oscar Piastri is absolutely oblivious to the fact that people try to flirt with him. It drives Lando nuts. Felicity finds it very amusing though. 

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Lando Norris had a very simple opinion about Oscar Piastri:

The man was smart, fast, loyal to a fault — And completely, hopelessly, oblivious.

Especially about certain things.

Like, say, the fact that every now and then, some thirsty influencer or overly-friendly interviewer decided they wanted to test their luck around one of McLaren’s golden boys.

Case in point: today.

It was supposed to be a simple media day.

Smile, wave, answer a few questions without accidentally swearing — easy stuff.

And then she showed up.

Some influencer.

Lando didn’t catch her name.

Didn’t want to.

Her outfit was orange enough to suggest she'd Googled "McLaren colors" five minutes before showing up.

 Her laugh was the kind that made Lando want to put himself in an ice bath.

But what really got him was the way she locked eyes on Oscar from the moment she walked into the room.

Like a hawk spotting a particularly delicious rabbit.

And Oscar — sweet, pure, unsuspecting Oscar — stood there politely, posture perfect, nodding like he was about to explain suspension geometry to a cactus.

She sidled up to him with all the grace of a Bond girl in heels, flashing teeth and dimples and Lando could see it coming.

Could see the slow-motion train wreck unfolding with the inevitability of a Ferrari strategy call.

She sidled closer.

Tilted her head. Big fake lashes, even faker laugh.

"So, Oscar," she purred, "looking very fit this season. What's your secret?"

Lando, standing just off to the side, already felt his skin crawl.

Oscar, meanwhile, nodded thoughtfully like she’d asked him about chassis balance.

"Consistency," he said, serious as anything. "And good hydration habits. Also core strength. That’s really important for maintaining control in high G-force corners. I’ve been working with a new strength and conditioning coach. Core engagement and flexibility training. Lots of functional range mobility exercises. Very important for endurance."

Lando nearly dropped the can of Monster Energy he was carrying.

He physically turned away, took a moment to compose himself, and turned back — and she was still going.

She giggled — the kind of giggle Lando associated with botched lip filler and red flags — and twirled her hair like they were in a teen movie from 2004.

"Flexibility, huh?" she said, her voice doing That Thing™. Then winked.

WINKED.

Oscar, God bless him, nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. Critical for cockpit comfort. Limited hip mobility can lead to premature fatigue during longer races."

Lando just stared.

The influencer stared.

Oscar stared earnestly back. Oscar blinked at her with the open innocence of a Labrador Retriever about to explain knee cartilage.

It was like watching someone flirt with a toaster.

And then — then — she tried it.

She went for the kill.

"Well," she said, laughing in a way that definitely wasn't natural, "maybe you could show me some... flexibility exercises later?"

Lando choked on air.

Oscar, bless him, just looked mildly puzzled.

Lando’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Oscar thought she wanted workout advice.

Meanwhile, this woman was basically trying to climb him like a tree.

"I mean," Oscar said, frowning thoughtfully, "I guess? If you’re interested in physiotherapy protocols? There's a lot of hip flexor and thoracic mobility involved."

He paused.

"Although," Oscar added very seriously, completely unaware he was standing in a verbal minefield, “you should always get a doctor’s clearance before starting any high-intensity exercise program.”

The influencer blinked.

Lando stared at the heavens.

Why.

Why had the universe given this man a marriage, a child, and a heart of gold, but no flirting radar whatsoever.

Lando was so angry on Oscar’s behalf he actually saw red.

Because it wasn’t just the flirting.

It was the disrespect.

Oscar — who had a wife who fixed racing models better than half the paddock. Oscar — who had a four-year-old daughter who beat engineers at Sudoku. Oscar — who literally carried his entire family in his heart wherever he went.

He wasn’t available.

He wasn’t interested.

And he damn well deserved to have people respect that without needing to tattoo MARRIED. TAKEN. HAS A BUMBLEBEE-OBSESSED DAUGHTER across his forehead.

And then — because clearly the universe wanted to personally test Lando’s self-control — the influencer winked.

Like, full-on, slow-motion, cartoon-style winked at Oscar.

Oscar blinked back, confused.

Then said, very seriously:

"You should also stretch regularly to avoid cramping."

Lando actually made a noise — somewhere between a groan and a dying animal.

The influencer tried to recover, laughing awkwardly, but Oscar had already turned — calm, unfazed — and was politely thanking the PR rep for organizing the media day.

Lando stormed over, practically vibrating with protective rage.

"Mate," he hissed when Oscar finally wandered off-stage, "you realize she was hitting on you, right?"

Oscar frowned. "Was she?"

"YES," Lando hissed, arms flailing. "She was basically ready to throw herself at you!”

Oscar looked genuinely perplexed.

"But... I’m married."

"YES," Lando repeated, louder, like he was explaining quantum physics to a pigeon. "You are married. You have a kid. You are the dictionary definition of off-limits."

Oscar scratched the back of his neck.

"Maybe she didn’t know?"

"She definitely knew," Lando muttered darkly. "You are actually wearing your wedding ring for once and Bee’s little bead bracelet. You might as well walk around holding a sign that says 'I love my wife and daughter more than oxygen.'"

Oscar shrugged, entirely unfazed.

"I mean... it’s true."

Lando stared at him.

Somewhere between admiration and absolute rage.

When they reached the McLaren motorhome, Felicity was there — perched on the couch, Bee asleep with her head on Felicity’s lap, Button the Frog tucked under her tiny arm.

Oscar’s whole face lit up like a sunrise.

He crossed the room without hesitation, dropped a kiss onto Felicity’s hair, and gently stroked Bee’s back.

Felicity smiled up at him, all soft and warm and easy, like they had a language no one else could hear.

Lando stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching it all unfold.

Watching how Oscar's whole world just locked into place around them, without hesitation, without second thought.

Yeah.

Let them flirt. Let them try.

Oscar Piastri had everything he needed right here. And he was smart enough — good enough — to never even glance anywhere else.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaSpill: BREAKING: Influencer tries to flirt with Oscar Piastri.

Oscar responds with “core strength” and “doctor’s clearance.”

Meanwhile, Lando Norris nearly combusts in the background.

[attached: video clip]

@/pitlanechaos: Not Oscar offering that woman a PHYSIOTHERAPY REFERRAL I’m losing it. He thought she wanted professional advice. He’s too pure for this world.

@/felicityfanclub (pinned tweet):

‼️OSCAR PIASTRI IS MARRIED

‼️HE LOVES HIS WIFE

‼️HE LOVES HIS DAUGHTER

‼️HE IS OBLIVIOUSLY LOYAL

‼️AND WE ARE HERE TO DEFEND HIS GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY

@/formulawoah: This man said “consult your doctor” instead of realizing she was flirting. He’s not oblivious. He’s loyal at a molecular level.

@/landohmygod: Lando Norris being 1 second away from lunging across the paddock like an angry chihuahua deserves its own Emmy. He was FIGHTING for Oscar’s honor.

@/suspension_nerd: If I was that influencer and Oscar hit me with “thoracic mobility is important” when I was trying to flirt, I would simply evaporate on the spot.

@/gridgossip: This man has a wife who fixes telemetry errors in her sleep, and makes him bento boxes everyday. AND A DAUGHTER WHO BEATS ENGINEERS AT SUDOKU. What did you THINK was going to happen??

@/F1psychology: Watching Oscar Piastri react to flirting like it's a sports injury safety video is the most fascinating psychological case study I’ve ever seen. Also, Lando's visible rage is priceless.

***

Oscar waited until Bee was down for the night.

She’d fallen asleep curled up around Button the Frog, one arm flung dramatically across her pillow like she was staging a nap-themed protest. He’d kissed her forehead and tucked the blanket under her chin, switching the night light to its soft pink glow before slipping out of her room on quiet feet.

He figured... if Felicity was going to hate him, she probably shouldn’t have to do it in front of their daughter.

Which was stupid. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

But the pit in his stomach wouldn’t go away.

He was sweating, suddenly aware of how clingy the collar of his t-shirt felt. His hands wouldn’t sit still — twitching, tapping, twisting his wedding ring around and around until the skin beneath it burned.

He felt fifteen again. Awkward and uncertain and too full of words he didn’t know how to say.

And then Felicity padded into the living room, hair twisted into a lazy bun, bare feet soft against the floorboards, wearing one of his old McLaren hoodies that hung off her like it still didn’t understand how it ended up lucky enough to be wrapped around her.

She looked soft. Tired. Safe.

She smiled when she saw him, sweet and a little sleepy, like she was expecting him to ask about what tea she wanted or whether he’d remembered to order oat milk.

Oscar nearly chickened out.

Instead, he sat up straighter — awkward and abrupt — and blurted:

"Someone tried to flirt with me today."

Felicity blinked.

Tilted her head slightly, eyebrows raised — curious, not alarmed.

"Okay," she said, in the same tone she might use if he told her they were out of clean towels.

Oscar frowned.

"No, like — really tried. At a media thing. In front of cameras."

She just blinked again. Still calm. Still patient.

Still not mad.

Just... waiting.

Oscar swallowed.

"And I didn’t realize it was flirting until Lando nearly had an aneurysm."

That earned him a real laugh — soft, sudden, surprised. The kind of laugh she gave him when Bee said something absurd or when Oscar accidentally fixed something in the kitchen by whacking it with a shoe.

It went straight to his chest.

God, he loved her.

"And I was worried—" he continued, words stumbling out now like they’d been dammed up too long, "I was worried you’d think I was — I don’t know — encouraging it or — or being stupid, or not noticing because I wanted to miss it—"

Felicity crossed the room in three quick steps, not breaking eye contact once.

She dropped onto the couch beside him, slid her legs over his lap like she did every night, and tucked herself against his side like she’d always belonged there.

"You thought I’d be mad," she said, amused, "because some random influencer tried to flirt with you?"

Oscar nodded miserably, guilt still clinging to the back of his throat.

Felicity pulled back just enough to look up at him.

Eyes shining. Smile small and full of something dangerously close to laughter.

"Oscar," she said slowly, "I saw the whole video. You tried to offer her hydration advice."

He groaned, already regretting every decision he’d made since opening his mouth.

"Please don’t remind me."

"You told her to stretch her hip flexors," Felicity said, delighted. "Oscar, you sounded like a yoga instructor trying to scare off a client."

"Bee probably would’ve handled it better," he muttered, rubbing at his face.

Felicity laughed — a real one this time, head back, eyes crinkled, full-body kind of joy.

Oscar melted a little.

She curled closer, arms winding around his waist like she didn’t intend to let go anytime soon.

"I’m not mad, love," she said gently, brushing her nose against his shoulder. "She never stood a chance."

Oscar blinked down at her, stunned. A little breathless.

Felicity grinned up at him.

"You are so... mine, it’s not even funny."

She said it like a joke. She said it like a truth carved in stone.

Both were true.

Oscar let out a long, shaky breath, tension finally bleeding out of his chest.

"I just didn’t want you to think—"

She kissed his cheek, quieting him with the ease of someone who knew every version of him — the champion, the kid from karting, the dad who braided Bee’s hair with frog clips.

"I married you," Felicity whispered. "I know exactly who you are. I trust you with my life. And frankly, if anyone tries to flirt with you again, I might just send them a condolence card."

Oscar laughed, startled and in love and still trying to figure out how he’d ever ended up this lucky.

"And also," Felicity added, smirking like a fox who had absolutely won, "it’s way too funny to be jealous about."

He buried his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth of her, by the sharp edges of her wit and the soft edges of her love.

"You’re ridiculous," he mumbled, muffled by her skin.

"And you," she said, threading her fingers through his hair like he was something precious, "are very bad at realizing when people want you." A beat. "And your brain is permanently stuck on ‘wife good, daughter best, car fast.’"

Oscar smiled, eyes closed, letting her steady him with nothing more than her heartbeat and her presence.

"You really aren’t mad?" he asked, still half-disbelieving.

Felicity leaned back, just far enough to look at him fully — bright-eyed and ferociously sure.

"Oscar," she said solemnly, "you are the most obliviously loyal man I’ve ever met. If I had to design a loyalty test, it would look like you."

Oscar kissed the curve of her throat, slow and reverent.

"Good thing I only ever wanted you," he murmured.

Felicity’s arms tightened around him, like she could will him into her bones.

"Exactly," she whispered.

Exactly.

[technicallyhappyarcade]

Core Strength: A Comprehensive Guide to Improving Your Core Strength

Achieve optimal fitness with enhanced core strength. Our comprehensive guide covers the best exercises, workouts, and yoga poses to build a strong and stable core. Discover effective strategies to improve posture, prevent injuries, and excel in various activities. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced fitness enthusiast, our expert tips and insights will help you develop a solid foundation of core strength. Unlock the benefits of better balance, reduced back pain, and enhanced athletic performance. Elevate your fitness journey today with our proven techniques for building core strength from the ground up.

[writeriguess]

Can you write a Katsuki x female reader where you have an enemies with benefits relationship? Smut. Everyone thinks you loathe each other but reality is you fuck in secret, but you don't love each other, at least you're not supposed to. (Pls include hints of secret feelings)

Not Supposed To

The argument starts like all the others.

“God, you’re fucking insufferable.”

You toss your gloves down on the locker room bench and glare at Bakugou, whose smug sneer only sharpens. His eyes follow you like he’s daring you to say more.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“You almost blew my leg off during the exercise, again.”

“Then maybe don’t stand where the action is, princess,” he growls, leaning against the locker with his arms crossed. “Not my fault your reaction time’s dogshit.”

You take a step toward him. “My timing’s fine. Your ego just can’t handle anyone else on the field.”

He laughs, low and sharp. “Tch. You wish you could keep up.”

The air between you snaps, heavy with something that isn’t just anger. It never is.

The door clicks shut behind the last student leaving. Silence drips like oil.

You don't move. Neither does he.

Then, Bakugou mutters, voice dark and low, “You gonna keep yappin’, or do you want your mouth full of something useful?”

You shove him.

He slams you back against the lockers in one fluid movement, big hands gripping your wrists, his knee slotting between your thighs.

“And there she is,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours. “Little miss perfect, acting like she doesn’t beg for it when the doors are closed.”

“Fuck you.”

“You do. Constantly.”

You hate the way your breath catches. The way your core throbs, already clenching from the memory of the last time he bent you over the shower bench and made you sob into the tile. You’re still sore. You always are.

“God, you’re such an arrogant—”

He kisses you before you finish, hot and bruising. Teeth clash. Hands fumble.

Clothes hit the floor.

He drags you into the supply closet, barely big enough to stand in. You don’t care. You’re already undoing his belt, and he’s tugging your shirt up over your head with greedy, calloused fingers.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he rasps against your neck. “Like you want to tear me apart.”

You moan when he bites just below your jaw, a possessive mark for no one else to see.

“Because I do,” you whisper.

He growls, spinning you and shoving you against the wall. “Then say it.”

You glare over your shoulder. “Say what?”

“Say you need me.”

You almost spit out a curse. Instead, he yanks your hips back, one hand tangling in your hair, the other sliding between your thighs. His fingers slip through your slick folds, slow and taunting.

You gasp.

“That wet already?” His voice is a snarl. “Shit. And you say you hate me.”

“I do.”

“You’re such a fucking liar.”

He shoves into you without warning, one brutal thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs. You gasp again, nails scraping the wall, legs shaking.

“God, you feel—fuck—tight every time.”

His hand wraps around your throat—not squeezing, just holding. Possessive. Like he owns you. Like he always has.

“You want everyone to think you can���t stand me,” he pants, thrusting hard, fast. “But you take my cock like it’s the only thing keeping you sane.”

You bite your lip so hard it bleeds.

“Say it, baby,” he hisses. “Say you need it.”

“…Need you,” you whisper, broken.

“Louder.”

“Need you.”

“That’s my girl.”

You hate that phrase. You hate that it makes your stomach twist. That your heart stutters. That your chest aches with something hot and dangerous and forbidden.

Because this isn’t love.

It’s not.

You’re not supposed to want him like this. Not beyond the sex. Not beyond the anger and the heat and the raw, bruising want.

But he says things like that. In that voice. And your body forgets the rules.

He pulls out and flips you, lifts you onto a stack of gym mats with reckless strength, then thrusts back in deeper, angrier, more desperate. His mouth crashes into yours again—less cruel this time, like he needs to taste you.

“Fuck—Katsuki—”

Your voice cracks. His name breaks between your teeth.

You’ve never called him that during sex before.

His pace falters for half a second. Just one.

You both feel it.

His hands tighten on your waist. “Say it again.”

You try to look away.

“Say it.”

“Katsuki.”

He slams into you with a groan, face buried in your neck now. “Fucking hell. Don’t call me that unless you mean it.”

You do.

But you don’t say that. You can’t.

So you dig your fingers into his back, arching as the climax tears through you, hot and fast and blinding. You fall apart with his name on your lips.

He follows with a curse, grinding in deep, holding you close as if he can’t stand the thought of space between you.

Silence.

You both breathe like you’ve run ten miles. Your heart pounds loud enough to echo.

He doesn’t let go.

You don’t move.

You should.

You should say something sharp. Cold. Dismissive. That’s how it works. That’s the deal.

But his hands are still on you, too gentle now. His head rests on your shoulder, and you can feel how his fingers tremble just a little.

He whispers something against your skin.

You don’t catch it.

Maybe that’s for the best.

[theambitiouswoman]

How To Become A Brand New Person ✨✨

Self Reflect:

Journal daily.

Think about past decisions and how they impacted your life.

Meditate regularly.

Create a vision board to visualize your goals.

Review your strengths and weaknesses.

Identify your core values and beliefs.

Figure out your passions and interests.

Think about your childhood dreams and aspirations.

Evaluate your current state of happiness and fulfillment.

Set Clear Goals:

Define specific career goals, like "Get promoted within two years."

Set health goals, like "Lose 20 pounds in six months."

Create financial goals such as "Save $10,000 for a vacation."

Establish personal development goals, like "Read 24 books in a year."

Set relationship goals, such as "Improve communication with my partner."

Define education goals, like "Complete a master's degree in three years."

Set travel goals, like "Visit five new countries in the next two years."

Create hobbies and interests goals, such as "Learn to play a musical instrument."

Set community or volunteer goals, like "Volunteer 100 hours this year."

Establish mindfulness or self-care goals, such as "Practice meditation daily."

Self Care:

Exercise for at least 30 minutes a day.

Follow a balanced diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables.

Prioritize getting 7-9 hours of quality sleep each night.

Practice in relaxation techniques like deep breathing or yoga.

Take regular breaks at work to avoid burnout.

Schedule "me time" for activities you enjoy.

Limit exposure to stressors and toxic people.

Practice regular skincare and grooming routines.

Seek regular medical check-ups and screenings.

Stay hydrated by drinking enough water daily.

Personal Development:

Read a book every month from various genres.

Attend workshops or seminars on topics of interest.

Learn a new language or musical instrument.

Take online courses to acquire new skills.

Set aside time for daily reflection and self improvement.

Seek a mentor in your field for guidance.

Attend conferences and networking events.

Start a side project or hobby to expand your abilities.

Practice public speaking or communication skills.

Do creative activities like painting, writing, or photography.

Create a Support System:

Build a close knit group of friends who uplift and inspire you.

Join clubs or organizations aligned with your interests.

Connect with a mentor or life coach.

Attend family gatherings to maintain bonds.

Be open and honest in your communication with loved ones.

Seek advice from trusted colleagues or supervisors.

Attend support groups for specific challenges (e.g., addiction recovery).

Cultivate online connections through social media.

Find a therapist or counselor for emotional support.

Participate in community or volunteer activities to meet like minded people.

Change Habits:

Cut back on sugary or processed foods.

Reduce screen time and increase physical activity.

Practice gratitude by keeping a daily journal.

Manage stress through mindfulness meditation.

Limit procrastination by setting specific deadlines.

Reduce negative self-talk by practicing self-compassion.

Establish a regular exercise routine.

Create a budget and stick to it.

Develop a morning and evening routine for consistency.

Overcome Fear and Self Doubt:

Face a specific fear head-on (example: public speaking).

Challenge your negative thoughts with positive affirmations.

Seek therapy to address underlying fears or traumas.

Take small, calculated risks to build confidence.

Visualize success in challenging situations.

Surround yourself with supportive and encouraging people.

Journal about your fears and doubts to gain clarity.

Celebrate your accomplishments, no matter how small.

Focus on your strengths and accomplishments.

Embrace failure as a valuable learning experience.

Embrace Change:

Relocate to a new city or country.

Switch careers or industries to pursue your passion.

Take on leadership roles in your workplace.

Volunteer for projects outside your comfort zone.

Embrace new technologies and digital tools.

Travel to unfamiliar destinations.

Start a new hobby or creative endeavor.

Change your daily routine to add variety.

Adjust your mindset to see change as an opportunity.

Seek out diverse perspectives and viewpoints.

Practice Gratitude:

Write down three things you're grateful for each day.

Express gratitude to loved ones regularly.

Create a gratitude jar and add notes of appreciation.

Reflect on the positive aspects of challenging situations.

Show gratitude by volunteering or helping others in need.

Send thank-you notes or messages to people who've helped you.

Keep a gratitude journal and review it regularly.

Share your gratitude openly during family meals or gatherings.

Focus on the present moment and appreciate the little things.

Practice gratitude even in times of adversity.

Be Patient:

Set realistic expectations for your progress.

Accept that personal growth takes time.

Focus on the journey rather than the destination.

Learn from setbacks and view them as opportunities to improve.

Celebrate small milestones along the way.

Practice self-compassion during challenging times.

Stay committed to your goals, even when progress is slow.

Keep a journal to track your personal growth.

Recognize that patience is a valuable skill in personal transformation.

Celebrate Small Wins:

Treat yourself to your favorite meal or dessert.

Reward yourself with a spa day or self-care activity.

Share your achievements with friends and loved ones.

Create a vision board to visualize your successes.

Acknowledge and congratulate yourself in a journal.

Give yourself permission to take a break and relax.

Display reminders of your accomplishments in your workspace.

Take a day off to celebrate a major milestone.

Host a small gathering to mark your achievements.

Set aside time to reflect on how far you've come.

Maintain Balance:

Set clear boundaries in your personal and work life.

Prioritize self care activities in your daily routine.

Schedule regular breaks and downtime.

Learn to say "no" when necessary to avoid overcommitment.

Evaluate your work life balance regularly.

Seek support from friends and family to avoid burnout.

Be kind to yourself and accept imperfections.

Practice mindfulness to stay present and grounded.

Revisit your priorities and adjust them as needed.

Embrace self love and self acceptance as part of your daily life.

[destinysbounty]

One thing I find unexpectedly fascinating about Monstrosity is that when you think about it, it'd really only work with Kai as the protagonist. And I don't just mean that because Rusty could only be awakened by a fire elemental, and without Rusty Kai would've died at the spooky death-siren lake - although that's definitely a part of the equation. What I mean is that Kai's specific personality was vital to not only his survival, but also to the retention of his humanity, and that likely wouldn't have been possible if almost any other character was swapped into his position.

Let me elaborate.

Although it's certainly true that not all timeskip scenarios were created equal, and that the Merge treated some people better than others (cough cough Cole), it's also worth noting that each character's experiences are heavily defined by their own unique personalities, strengths, and flaws. If you shuffled everyone around into different post-Merge outcomes, you'd have a vastly different story.

For example, Cole absolutely flourished in the Land of Lost Things, but not everyone would - Pixal in particular would really struggle there. She's normally someone who is always on her A-game so long as she has a goal to accomplish and a clear path towards doing so, and it's rare for her to face a lot of internal conflict over her motivations/ideals. But if you put her in a situation where she has to choose between leaving the Finders to reunite with her friends, or forsaking her friends to protect the Finders...I think that no matter which option she chose, she'd be deeply troubled by it, and would not cope with that conflict of interest nearly as well as Cole has.

Whereas Lloyd, if you placed him in the stasis pod instead of Pixal, would suffer just as greatly. As much as he struggled emotionally in his years of isolation in the monastery, I think it'd almost fuck him up even more to find out he slept through the Merge entirely - and has (in his eyes) failed to keep his team safe and intact. That they've had to fend for themselves without him around to do his job as the leader.

And so on and so forth. You get the general idea. (Honestly, it's kind of a fun thought exercise to explore how everyone would cope if they all got switched around into different scenarios. You should definitely try it!)

Of course, Monstrosity in particular is a fascinating case study of this. If you put any other ninja in this story, you'd get a drastically different one - and in a lot of fundamental ways, it just straight-up wouldn't work.

See, the core theme of the miniseries is about balancing ruthlessness and mercy, knowing when to fight and when to show compassion, and how to fight monsters without becoming a monster yourself. And honestly? Kai is arguably the only person on the team who could effectively navigate that balancing act.

On the one hand you have characters like Pixal, Nya, and Jay - characters who would most likely fall too far onto the ruthlessness side of things and lose themselves.

Pixal is a very determined person - as mentioned above, so long as she has a goal and an action plan, she isn't prone to giving up or losing hope. She will keep trudging along her chosen path until it is accomplished, never stopping to let anything slow her down. Sure, she'd definitely be haunted by her choices after the fact, but in the moment I don't think she'd ever let herself slow down long enough to introspect in that way. She's too busy getting back to her family to think deeply about the moral implications of her actions, or to reflect on who/what she's becoming. She'd definitely be haunted by her choices, sure, but that's not to imply she would ever meaningfully deconstruct or process those feelings at all. She is, of course, an alumni at the Zane Julien School of Processing Trauma.

Nya is similar to Pixal in a lot of ways, but she's also naturally a very ruthless person with a teensy bit of bloodlust to her (affectionate). She also has at least one canon instance of sacrificing her humanity to save her family. This isn't new to her. Daidan would tell her that she can't survive in a land of monsters without becoming a monster herself and she'd go "bet", then proceed to beat the shit out of anything that looks at her wrong. Not to mention that the weird death-siren lake would probably fuck her up in a lot of really complicated Seabound-related ways that I don't think she'll ever be ready or willing to unpack.

My placement of Jay on this side of the spectrum may face some scrutiny, but hear me out first. Although Jay acts very lighthearted and goofy in front of others, it's canon that this persona is a facade he wears to save face and hide how anxious he really feels. On some level, I would argue that Jay subconsciously self-sabotages whenever he's fighting in a group, deferring to the strength of others out of insecurity/codependency rather than trusting his own skill. But when he's on his own and has no audience left to perform for, we see Jay's full potential shine through - we see him be strong, and clever, and even a leader. And on rare occasions, usually when Nya or someone he loves is in danger, he can even be brutal. Jay would absolutely have an awful time in Monstrosity, don't get me wrong - but he'd also exhibit a level of competence and efficiency only ever seen during elimination seasons. And that same efficiency would be his downfall. Jay loves his family, he loves Nya, and he also really hates dying. I don't have a doubt in my mind that he would do whatever it takes to make it back to Nya, even if he's miserable the whole time.

Of course, that's not to say that the rest of the team has it any better. Just because Cole, Zane, and Lloyd tilt pretty far onto the "mercy" side of the spectrum, doesn't mean that's necessarily a good thing in this situation.

Cole is extremely community-oriented, and he is constantly making friends and forming meaningful connections everywhere he goes. With Chen's other prisoners, with Yang, with that not-so-random baby he found, with Krag, with the Upply, and now with the Finders. If Cole cannot find a community, he will create it. On the rare occasions that he is alone, it is usually a dire situation involving extremely poor mental health. When his isolation is self-inflicted, it's usually out of grief. And when circumstances forcibly isolate him....well, go rewatch DotD and MotO, and watch how Cole handles just a few hours of forced isolation from his family. I can't imagine he'd handle several weeks alone in the Land of Monsters without becoming completely unglued. Cole's biggest strength is his social sturdiness - not just as the rock his team relies on, but as the foundation upon which everyone he meets can cultivate a sense of community. But in isolation that strength becomes a double-edged sword, and I believe the brutal emptiness of the Land of Monsters would leave him in an even worse emotional state than Kai.

Zane is no stranger to being stranded in foreign realms, armed with nothing but the singular objective to return home. But I think he would be so paranoid about falling into old routines that he would overcompensate too far in the other direction, rendering him too soft to make it through the Land of Monsters in one piece. That's not to imply he was going to make it out in one piece to begin with, of course. This is Zane we're talking about. I'd be surprised if he goes three days without dying horribly in some way or another. Whether it's out of self-sacrifice or because he pulled punches where he shouldn't have and paid the price, that man is not lasting more than a week.

Lloyd...honestly, he's arguably the closest anyone gets to matching Kai's balance on this issue. The case could certainly be made that Lloyd would effectively replace Kai in Monstrosity...but idk, I personally don't buy it. If you ask me, I think he veers a bit too much into the "too afraid of being like his dad to let himself become a monster" spectrum. This would go one of two ways: 1) he goes the way of Zane and/or Cole, and over-softens himself out of paranoia; 2) he initially tries to over-soften himself, but everything gets to him until he eventually snaps and goes full Oni Mode. Personally, I've got my money on option 2.

The takeaway here isn't that any member of the team is inherently better or worse than the others, just that they all have particular strengths and weaknesses that serve them well in their given scenarios. But those scenarios would only work with them as the main character, and nowhere is that more apparent than with Monstrosity. Zane could never withstand Lloyd's years of isolation in the monastery, just like Jay would become an anxious mess if he had to be responsible for the Kragglings' civil war, just like Kai would absolutely have the worst time if he got stuck in the Administration, just like Nya would go stir-crazy in the Land of Lost Things.

Monstrosity is fundamentally a Kai storyline, down to its DNA. And I think that's part of why he comes across as so beautifully written in this miniseries. There is no aspect of it that you can separate from Kai without changing the fundamental core of the story itself. He's the only one on the team who could do something like this. The only one who could survive in the Land of Monsters without either dying horribly or losing himself along the way.

And idk, I just think that's neat.

[tikitakatia]

Fixer Upper — A. Putellas x Reader

"Kicked Out of Pilates"

WC: 1.2k

Summary: You knew she´d be bad at it, but not this bad.

It starts with a smug grin and her famous last words.

“Babe, I’m a professional athlete.”

You don’t even look up from your protein shake. You just sigh, already sensing the incoming storm.

Alexia leans against the counter, arms crossed, still sweaty from training and radiating the kind of overconfidence that precedes something catastrophic. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna get much out of this class,” she says.

“I mean, come on. Pilates?”

You take a long sip of your drink, buying time before you say something sharp. Something like Pilates will destroy you and I will laugh. But instead, you go for neutral. Measured.

“It’s not about brute force,” you tell her.

“It’s about control, precision and core strength.”

Alexia snorts. Actually snorts. 

“My core could beat yours.” She says childishly. 

You raise an eyebrow. “You think this is a competition?”

“Everything’s a competition,” she shoots back, eyes gleaming.

You mutter something under your breath, but you let it go. Because part of you, okay well, all of you, wants to watch her crash and burn.

Just a little bit.

The studio smells like eucalyptus and like someone took the scent of a relaxing spa and bottled it up for mass consumption. You’re early, like always, so you begin stretching on the mat, calm and focused, while Alexia’s poking at the reformer like it might bite her.

“What is this?” she asks, genuinely baffled.

“It looks like a medieval torture device.”

“It’s about to become one.” You smirk.

She rolls her eyes, loud and unsubtle, and the instructor, a perfectly serene woman named Claudia who probably drinks her smoothies with spirulina, walks in.

“Everyone ready?” Claudia chirps.

You nod. Alexia does not.

Instead, she mumbles something about how she could’ve done squats at home and not wasted her morning pretending to be a ballerina. 

Claudia, bless her soul, just smiles and says, “Let’s begin with a neutral spine.”

Alexia turns to you and whispers, “What the hell is a neutral spine?”

You elbow her. “Shut up and engage your core.”

Ten minutes in, the cracks begin to show.

Claudia is calmly guiding everyone through slow, precise movements. Your body moves easily, years of muscle memory clicking into place.

You’re zoned in and focused. This is your space.

Alexia on the other hand, is struggling.

Not physically yet. But mentally, emotionally, spiritually? She’s fighting a war.

Her legs are shaking. Her arms are trembling. The reformer spring tension has betrayed her. And she will not stop talking.

“Is this even real exercise?”

“Why is this plank harder than usual?”

“Who invented these blocks? This is so dumb.”

“I think the machine’s broken. Babe. Babe, it’s broken.”

Claudia ignores her with the kind of professional detachment you aspire to one day achieve. You, however, are two seconds from faking a hamstring tear just to escape from your girlfriend´s dramatics.

The tipping point comes during a deceptively gentle sequence.

Claudia instructs the class to lie on their sides and do slow leg lifts with resistance bands. You’re breathing, focusing, engaged. You glance at Alexia.

Big mistake.

She’s propped on one elbow, face red, one leg halfway up and trembling violently, sweat dotting her forehead. She looks over at you, betrayal in her eyes.

“You’re not even struggling,” she hisses.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” you whisper back.

“Shut up and breathe.”

“I am breathing. I’m breathing fire.”

“Then maybe shut up and burn quietly.”

That’s when she mutters, not-so-quietly,

“This is physical abuse.”

Claudia turns, still smiling, still terrifying. “Alexia, why don’t we move you to the front? I can guide you better from here.”

It’s not a suggestion. It’s a death sentence.

Alexia tries to play it cool as she moves. You don’t even look at her. You can feel the smugness radiating off Claudia now.

She puts Alexia in the straps. Tightens the tension. Adjusts the springs. And then says five words that chill your soul.

“Let’s try an advanced variation.”

You silently cross yourself and send a prayer for your girlfriend.

Alexia makes it twenty more minutes.

Twenty minutes of being turned into human origami. Of grunting, groaning, arguing with the machine. At one point, she kicks a foam roller across the room and calls it “possessed.”

At another, she yells, “I CAN SPRINT FOR NINETY MINUTES BUT I CAN’T DO THIS FOR NINETY SECONDS.”

You’re hiding behind your towel, pretending you don’t know her. Claudia doesn’t even blink. She’s clearly dealt with worse, but even she has limits.

At the fifty-minute mark, Claudia claps her hands and says,

“Class dismissed. Except for you two. A word, please.”

You brace yourself.

The ban is delivered with kindness. Which somehow makes it worse.

“It’s not that we don’t welcome beginners,” Claudia says, folding her hands.

“But the... energy... today was a bit disruptive.”

You nod, already apologizing. You’re in full damage-control mode. Meanwhile, Alexia is sitting on a bench, legs trembling, trying to hide the fact that she might cry if she stands up again.

“I didn’t mean to be disruptive,” she mumbles softly, like a child that has been told off.

“I just, this isn’t what I expected.”

Claudia softens, just slightly and gives her a condescending pat on the shoulder.

“Pilates humbles everyone, but practice makes perfect.”

Back home, Alexia collapses face-first onto the couch.

You throw her a bottle of magnesium lotion and start rummaging for the heating pad.

“I can’t move,” she groans into a pillow.

“I think I pulled something in my psyche.”

“I told you it wasn’t a joke.”

“I thought it was gonna be stretching and breathing! I didn’t know it was, whatever the hell that was!”

You’re trying to stay mad. Really, you are. But she just looks so damn pathetic. Her legs are splayed, her hair’s a mess, and she’s still wearing one sock. The other was lost somewhere during a lunge series you’re not ready to talk about.

You crouch beside her and start massaging her calves, firm but careful.

She groans. Loudly and dramatically.

“Don’t make sex noises at me right now,” you mutter.

“This is better than sex,” she moans, then corrects herself,

“No, wait. Top three, though.”

You roll your eyes, but your hands don’t stop. She’s warm under your fingers, muscles tight, trembling a little. You dig into the knots, working them out slowly.

“I deserved this,” she mutters after a while.

“You did.”

“I’m sorry I made a scene.”

“You’re not.”

“Okay, I’m sorry you had to be there for it.”

That’s better.

You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. She sighs, letting you work, her body heavy and pliant beneath your hands now. Like all the fight’s drained out, leaving only the girl who trusted you enough to fall apart in a Pilates studio.

“You’re not taking me back there, are you?”

“No,” you say.

“They banned us.”

“Really?”

You nod.

Alexia lets out a sleepy laugh, one hand reaching back to pat your thigh.

“You’re still the hottest person in that studio,” she says.

You lean forward, lips brushing her ear.

“You got kicked out of Pilates.”

She groans. “Can we never talk about this again?”

But you will. Oh, you absolutely will.

Later when she’s recovered, she's cocky again. You´ll remind her that her Achilles’ heel is a twenty-dollar foam block and a woman named Claudia.

You press a final kiss to her temple, settle beside her on the couch, and pull the blanket over both of you.

“Next time,” she mumbles, already half-asleep,

“I pick the activity.”

You smile against her skin.

“Whatever you want, darling.”

[yessirplease69]

❝Above The Clouds & Among The Stars❞

Synopsis: Moments belonging to the relationship between you and your childhood friend, which has evolved over time. Caleb still believes that hiding his feelings from you is the most suitable choice.

✈ Content: caleb x fem reader, caleb headcanons, nsfw, explict sexual content, suggestive (mature content), drama, angst, fluff, reader being slow for not realizing how caleb is in love with her, caleb being so loving, caleb being possessive, reader is a virgin, the final part maybe happens just before the explosion?, there are many references that are found in the history of the game.

✈ Word Count: 4K

♫ Caleb playlist on Spotify: here.

a\n: ✎─ It's been so long since I posted here, finally college gave me a break. I wrote this while listening to ♫ Tinashe - Cold Sweat ♫ 50 Cent - Just a Lil Bit ♫ so you guys could say these songs were playing on the radio in the garage (spoiler lol). I feel like he would listen to songs like 50 Cent's, it really fits his style... Hope u enjoy it!

Caleb, during his high school years, is part of one of the senior classes and he has been assigned the role of class monitor for Physical Education. Although he is not in the same section as you, his role is incorporated into your core subjects, which means you encounter him more frequently in the gymnasium or in other sports areas. Occasionally, you bump into each other in the hallways, despite both of your schedules being different.

Caleb, who is popular and has many admirers, is not interested in any of them, although receiving numerous love letters and gifts. This prodigy boy frequently finds himself being questioned by friends and older acquaintances about the mysterious girl who has captured his attention and heart. Caleb endures the teasing about this while rolling his eyes and sporting a slight smile on his lips. It seems that no one has yet realized that it is you and your magic behind it all.

Caleb, who is always looking after you, ensures that you have all the necessary items for school, helping you choose the appropriate gym clothes for physical exercises and new supplies. This includes preparing breakfast for you and his Gran, washing an apple, and packaging it perfectly for you to take for a snack. He always wears a radiant smile on his face as he takes the strap of your bag to secure it on his left shoulder, since his right shoulder is occupied by his backpack. Caleb never allows you to take it back, as it is difficult to go against the strength of this man, who stands at 6 feet 3 inches tall, and you simply have to accept this, even if you grumble from the passenger seat of his car all the way to the school entrance.

Caleb, who has always been so affectionate only with you, is constantly touching your arms, back, cheeks, waist, and tenderly kissing your hands, even making random drawings on their palms while he is captivated by you as you excitedly share about your day. He is the type who loves physical touch and believes it creates a connection between souls because he loves you so deeply that it hurts, and this man feels that pain when he touches you. Most of the time, it is an innocent affection, and he just wants to have you close, as it is not possible to have more than that.

Caleb, who sees you growing physically and mentally with each passing day, becomes possessive and jealous of anyone who looks at you in a way that only he is allowed to. Every night before going to bed, you have conversations about boys, hoping to hear the same response come from his lips: "Don't trust those guys, pip-squeak. You still don't get how they can be mean and shady." However, with all the strength he has left, he tries to ignore it all and pretend that it does not affect him, especially since it should not interfere with your romantic or sexual life... Oh, in a rather convenient way, he will interfere with that.

Caleb, who has a toned and defined body since he exercises a lot to maintain it and prepare for when he becomes a fighter pilot in Deepspace Aviation. This boy is huge (in every sense), looks like a fridge with a chest and back as solid as iron, and he always fears breaking you when you are in his arms of pure muscle. It is inevitable not to notice teenage girls from different grades drooling when he is exposing his defined torso while walking out of the boy's locker room with the other guys. Your friends often ask you for his number, and you do not understand why you are making a sour face at them while a strange feeling hits you.

Caleb, who is naturally very skilled at winning plush toys from the claw machine. He has left his entire collection for you, however, it is still likely to find a single cute and fuzzy stuffed animal in his room, comfortably sitting on the dresser next to his bed. He always thinks of you whenever he looks at it.

Caleb, who is fucking other girls while thinking of you. It is obvious, he is an 18-year-old teenager in the process of development, and it is not possible to confront testosterone because he needs to satisfy the urges that puberty presented to him. However, he cannot remove you, your scent, or your beautiful body from his mind, and even less can he touch you as he desires because he is afraid of breaking the bond you both formed in childhood. Thus, releasing this carnal desire while he is burying his cock in some pussy out there is all he can do or imagine.

Caleb, who never walks around the house without a shirt on because he would not want to make you uncomfortable, and It is not necessary for Grandma to correct him for such a lack of manners, since his well-being is what matters most to him. But, on a weekend morning when the ladies of the house were still in bed, Caleb did not mind having to dress completely after he took a shower. Coincidentally, you had woken up quite early and caught him nearly naked in the kitchen preparing your favorite meal, with the poor boy displaying a surprised expression when you harshly told him to cover the visible marks left by feminine nails on his back. He never imagined that you had cultivated a feeling like jealousy before beginning to act roughly with him for the rest of the week.

Caleb, who splashes water on you while you are washing the dishes, and it is hard to explain at what moment the scenario turned into a war. The scene repeats when you are enjoying the summer by the pool, and the atmosphere shifts when Caleb ceases to laugh and gazes at you with a different intention in his eyes. You observe the dark-haired boy approaching, unaware that he is gripping the edge of the pool to contain the desire to kiss you.

Caleb, who maintains a very healthy routine at home and school, where you can always find him doing push-ups on the floor or running on the grass of the football field. You are seated in the bleachers with the girls when he notices your presence from miles away, and the way he flashes the purest smile while waving in your direction leaves you feeling confusingly irritated at the moment you see your friends fanning themselves and sighing loudly in unison like bitches in heat. You will blame him for making you feel this way or create reasons for it, using your anger to write unflattering things about him in your facade account book. This silly guy is completely oblivious to these details, you are ignoring him so that he follows you down the hallway, questioning what might have happened. Heaven, he is playing your game and blaming himself too, until you relent upon noticing his face marked by puppy-dog eyes.

Caleb, who tries not to look when you are doing a squat exercise in front of him at the gymnasium, feels his cheeks flush pink every time your knees bend, presenting an indecent view of you. Fortunately, this man is very composed and will act as if nothing has happened, hence, you will see Caleb turning his head to another corner while he coughs awkwardly. He condemns himself for having such thoughts about you, and motivated by this fact, he feels the need to avoid you, using this justification in his mind to hang out with his friends instead, for example. He needs a distraction. Yet there you are, calling him with a sweet and pleading voice, hoping to get help with your homework or to fix the bathroom socket so you can use it. How can he say no?

Caleb, who is such a respectful boy, walking down the hallway and noticing that you had forgotten to close the bathroom door while you are showering. He is simply closing it slowly, intending to prevent you from being startled or thinking that he is a pervert. Not that he is not.

Caleb, who begins his training as a pilot at Skyhaven, makes a promise to take you to the clouds as soon as he returned home during his military leave. It was a spring afternoon when he wrapped his pinky finger around yours, and the casual conversation about the planes he mastered made you sigh with shining eyes. After all, who could be better than him to make you fly in the sky? Besides his incredible piloting skills and placing your safety first, this man has the power to manipulate gravity. If you were ever flying over Linkon City and were about to fall to the ground, he would use his abilities to maintain control and balance until landing. This man would never let you fall in life.

Caleb, who is automatically attracted to you and it does not require much effort on your part unlike other women. It seems that he becomes more enchanted when you compliment the delicious flavor of the meals he prepares. It is always a new achievement when you are humming and squinting your eyes with his food in your mouth. It means he is feeding you well, a task of the day completed.

Caleb, who allows you to sleep in his bed, with him, on rainy days with intense thunderstorms. You fall asleep together, your head resting on his chest as he holds you tightly while raindrops patter against the window. If he has an obligation the next morning, you will find breakfast laid out on the sheets along with a note that has a good morning message filled with childish and silly drawings. But if he does not have any other engagements, you will wake up to a kiss on your forehead or a teasing pinch on your cheek. Even when Caleb is away, he will leave the door to his room open just so you can rest there whenever you wish. You would not mention it, but you often spend more time in his room than in your own. His scent is everywhere, and when your nose detects it, only then do you feel comfortable enough to be lulled into sleep.

Caleb, who practices combat moves with you whenever he is home after being away for an extended period. Despite having become a Hunter, your fighting skills still need further refinement. And seriously, he is an excellent teacher, it is no surprise that he received praise during his time as a class monitor in high school. This man is calm and highly experienced, he will teach you each movement correctly, and as a diligent tutor, he will explain countless times, regardless of how many times you stumble and fall onto him until you successfully land a hit. You can feel the tension in his triceps as they constrict around your neck in a rear naked choke. "One wrong move and your enemy could end your life just like that." His breath caresses your neck and he remains in that position for a few seconds as he analyzes how your body is reacting pressed against his. The grip becomes weaker, your blood circulation stabilizing and there is an indication in your reaction that your oxygen has been lost, even though he did not apply much pressure to your neck. It is as if he suddenly perceives the atmosphere becoming more intense, prompting him to exert effort to soften the situation when you hear his sweet voice: "Someone here needs to step it up, or else they're not getting any of Caleb's decorated cookies!"

Caleb, who has no idea how he has made you feel attracted to him, your childhood friend, as you have labeled him. He has not even noticed how you hold your gaze on his violet eyes for a bit longer, the way your chest rises when your breathing becomes frantic, how your voice suddenly trembles, or how your body responds when he is too close. However, you will witness Caleb feeling confused and concerned about some of these behaviors as he innocently asks you if you are unwell. He will even place his hand on your forehead to check it. This charming individual is putting you in the palm of his hand; he does not tire of teasing you by pressing you against the refrigerator when he finds you wandering the kitchen late at night, solitary and restless, nibbling on something. Sometimes, it is not even intentional, you know, it is simply the seductive nature that Caleb possesses.

✈ ✈ ✈

The smell of gasoline mixed with grease is overwhelming and nearly clogs your nose as soon as you set foot in the large garage at home, the reason for the odor justified upon finding Caleb sitting in one of the old armchairs, deeply focused on fixing what appeared to be a car part. The radio is active on the Linkon City FM station, the device accompanying several tools scattered on the table. This place has been transformed into the man's personal space, as more airplane and car-related items are found on the shelves. Grandma and you now refer to it as Caleb's garage.

"Aren't you going to join us at the table for lunch?" Your voice is demanding as you lean half of your body against the doorframe, arms crossed while questioning the man, who does not look at you. His car is parked on the other side of the area, and you notice that the hood is open.

"Just give me a few more minutes and I'll finish up here." He finally responds to you, still immersed in the work that his hands are performing. The old white tank top that clings to his torso bears dark stains that reveal the product used, and your eyes complete their inspection of the mess displayed on Caleb's pants and across the skin of his arms.

"Busy playing with your toys, huh?" Feeling curious, you approach the Lamborghini to see what is demanding so much of the man's attention. A smile adorns his lips, and you hear a low laugh resonating in the Caleb's throat. He leans forward, rifling through the box on the floor filled with equipment. 

"Aaand... clean girls can’t come in here." Caleb studies you from head to toe for a moment, the tease playing on his lips with a smile, which broadens when he sees you roll your eyes.

"Before I leave, I'm telling you not to touch me with that dirty hand, Caleb." Your teasing retorts against him. "Go take a shower before sitting at the table, 'kay?"

"C'mon. My hand isn't even dirty, bossy brat." The tip of his boot hits the floor, driven by the beat of the music that starts playing from the device. He is moving the toolbox aside after grabbing what he wanted. "I'm gonna do a test and jump on your bed to stain your pretty white sheets."

"Pfft! You." One of your fingers is pointing towards his serene smile, which conceals all the little mischiefs. You watch him twirl a heavy object between his fingers, disregarding how you have placed your hands on your hips while gazing deeply at him.

"Stay away from the sharp tools, I'm telling you too for the twentieth time this week." He makes it very clear to you, despite not giving a firm look to affirm his words. Caleb do not want to witness the scene of you slipping in the puddle of gasoline that had formed on the floor and hitting your head against one of the saws and axes attached to the wall.

And, oh, you are doing everything except listening to him. That is why he feels you are about to do something reckless as your hand approaches the sharp edge of the object. Before the tip of your finger fully touched it, an unnatural force exerted itself upon your palm, pushing it away. You shot a piercing glance at the man seated, intending for it to penetrate him like the blade you were willing to touch.

"You're so stubborn." Caleb is staring at you, remarkably calm, the fringe of his hair falling over his eyes like a waterfall. His lips are curved in frustration as he moves the fingers in the air. His Evol is still controlling you, the vibration of that power surrounding your skin due to gravity.

"Why are you like this?! I can totally resonate with that!"

"Your powers aren't strong enough for that yet, pip-squeak." You can hear the sound of his sigh, and he is prepared to dismiss any complaints you may have. "I'm just protecting you from your own innocence. It's for your own good."

"I don't need your protection." The conviction carries your voice like a powerful weapon. And you are aiming it at him, more than ever as that manipulative pressure finally releases from your hand. Caleb was gentle in using just a little strength, with no intention of hurting you.

"You don't need it?" The way Caleb has spoken so sarcastically yet with a certain conviction has left you immobilized in place, and he was no longer using his power over you. There is a feeling of rage consuming you as you clench your fists and grind your teeth at finding him so perplexed by your behavior.

"Yeah, I'm done." Your breath quickens as you take rapid, unexpected steps toward the man. He watches your movements intently until you push his shoulders, and his back is hitting the upholstery. Strands of hair on Caleb's forehead are ruffled by the impact, and his face bears a tightly clenched jaw as he stares, almost frozen, you climb onto the large armchair and rest your knees on either side of his thighs.

You need not check to know that your clothing has been ruined by a bit of grease. However, the thought quickly disappears when you are approached by Caleb's fixed gaze, the overhead perspective providing a perfect angle to see the top of his chest escaping from his tank top. The shiny necklace you gave him glistens in contrast to the light, and your attempt to divert your gaze from it proves futile.

"I don't need you treating me like a kid. Not anyone." Your mouth commands your attitude, and the dark-haired man follows each of its movements. You appear too serious, which influences his features as he raises his chin in a sign of dominance. "You idiot."

"Watch you mouth." He is reprimanding you, his tone of voice shifting to a deeper harmony. His occupied hand releases the metal piece into the air, and it makes a violent noise when it hits the ground. Suddenly, you notice his eyes darken as he closely scrutinizes your reaction, and now his fingers are pressing against your wrists. You cannot just sit on him like that, in that position, like it's no big deal. "Don't you know how to treat your elders right anymore, brat?"

"Stop!" You spit, attempting not to show your vulnerable side whenever you are around him. "Is that all I mean to you, yeah? Just a helpless brat. "For a moment, your heart aches with guilt for behaving insensitively while you find so much love in his warm gaze directed at you. This is further compounded by a small streak of black grease on his cheek, which makes him even more endearing.

"Hey silly girl, what are you talking about?" A laugh escapes his lips, and you are unsure if it was meant to sound innocent or somewhat foolish coming from him. However, as a habit, this man tries to lighten the mood of the situation, even when it leaves you feeling embarrased. Caleb is wondering why on earth you have been so rude to him lately. He understands this whole independence thing you are going through, but he is beginning to lose the patience that has remained intact for years. After all, he has always done everything for you, indulging you with good things and ensuring your protection, yet you repay him in this manner.

"You don’t know?!" The walls tremble as you laugh ironically, the closeness of your faces does not intimidate him. "I hate... how you still see me as your little girl, and not as a woman." You hiss when you realize that you spoke those words too loudly, and you are failing to remove his hands from your skin, which are beginning to burn your very being.

"What?!" He cannot help but shake his head, incredulous at your words. Your breathless breaths are intertwined in the space, which suddenly becomes suffocating.

You look so beautiful sitting on his lap, that he thinks he could get used to the view. Caleb is clenching his fist tightly against the seat, trying to prevent himself from touching the accessible and more sinful areas of your body on top of him.

"Do you want me to show you how I can see you as a woman?"

There is a silence enveloping you and him, but the beat of the music becomes increasingly captivating in the background. You are still recovering from the weight of the double entendre posed to you. A tension saturates the air in more palpable forms, Caleb's gaze appearing indecisive between your enticing lips and the way your beautiful tits move as your breathing grows irregular. The manner in which his violet eyes encompass your entire body is so alluring, and you find yourself questioning why you had not noticed this much earlier.

"Yes." The whisper slips from your lips almost like a secret, yet you show no fear of proving the consequences of your bold action. You are venturing into uncharted territory, tampering with danger. The boy growls sensually in response, a primal sound that reveals how much he desires you as a woman.

He is almost exposing how painful it is to hide all these feelings from you, and this man swears by his soul that if it were not for his self-control, he would throw you beneath him into this old armchair and position you to make love to him. He would not release your wrists while possessing you as his own, imagining how he would start to move his hips in a slow and tender way, just as a princess like you deserves, but then he would take you with such brutality, and you would accept him, his size, so perfectly inside you. The sounds of wet sex would be louder than the music playing in the area, and he would keep repeatedly going in and out even if Grandma upstairs was disturbed by the depraved noises coming from your mouth. This man would make you scream in that garage until the sun sets, according to his endurance in cardio. It is okay, he has been letting you scream all the time with him lately, so it is only fair to leave you voiceless.

"Please." Your pleas are persistent, the throbbing pain in the center of your legs making your hips roll almost automatically and slowly on his groin. And it was possible to watch Caleb flying to the sky and seeing stars while he releases your wrists to grip your waist, commanding you to stop these movements. Because his big cock is hard right under you, Jesus. He would go crazy in this place and would take you to sin with him, a single slip could change everything. What would you think of him after this fateful decision? Your sweet purity going down the drain like this...

Caleb is thinking about how you are still not ready, watching you gazing innocently at him, unaware of the many desires and darker thoughts hidden within these purple orbs. You would not be able to handle all the things he wishes to do with you. Therefore, all he does at this moment is close his eyes tightly and take a deep breath in unison.

"No." His raspy tone conveys much about his arduous battle against these desires thus far. Your eyes instinctively close when his lips draw near, you emit a soft moan as you feel them brush against yours. The man is aware that once he begins to kiss you, he would be unable to stop. It is a torment to realize that you are unprepared to be wholly his, in body and soul. He requires you to have conviction in your actions before engaging in any recklessness, as both of you must be ready for that.

Then the place becomes cold as he crawls out of the seat, silently distancing himself from you while wearing a sad countenance. His eyes convey loneliness and melancholy, even as he closes the door behind him. You notice that your skin has been marked by the grease and his hands, it may take some time for you to forget the feeling of them on your body.

[ronearoundblindly]

Two-Factor Adoration (1)

Steve Rogers x agent!Reader sex pollen

Summary: Exposed to strange substances, you and Steve end up unable to resist each other's pheromones. Can you stop it? Will you two survive if you give in?

gif by @bannerville; based off of this post (see series) Warnings for sexual references (m. masturbation, kinda scenting??), language, slightly slow burn, probably too much exposition, and my splitting this into two pieces because I'm impatient. WC 2125

Steve rubs at the blue powder as it shimmers on his exposed fingertips. After trapping an enemy grenade beneath his shield, he thought everything trapped beneath would turn to dust—ash, specifically—but this feels more fine and then disappears as if it were never there.

He runs his thumb along the inside again.

Perhaps his mind is playing tricks on him. Perhaps his eyes are still adjusting from the flash-bangs of battle. He could swear he saw though, but there’s no time to ponder. When he tosses the shield, letting it ricochet twice before thudding against an enemy agent’s skull, all the remnants of powder dislodge and faintly rain down to the concrete floor. He assumes the glittery substance gets incinerated later once the building is set alight.

Steve doesn’t feel any different. He’s not sick or incapacitated. He returns to HQ with the usual fanfare he loathes, grins and bares it, yet notices one congratulatory handshake in particular has him relaxing significantly, a drape of rose-colored calm descending down his body after his nostrils flare and his slightly sweating palm tingles.

The woman is on Echo Team, and he supervised some of her training months and months ago. Steve keeps everything professional—always has—so he swallows the odd, overwhelming surge of desire that twists in his gut, allowing the excited newest recruits to pull him away.

He visits the infirmary later that night, concerned that he seems to be taking deep breaths that somehow aren’t…satisfying? It’s difficult to describe to the doctor, who finds nothing strange in the sound or strength of his lungs, but Steve also fails to mention the blue powder that may or may not have absorbed into his skin.

So embarrassing, you chastise yourself, tucking into the back bench surrounding the practice mats in the gym. Cap doesn’t deserve to be ogled like a slab of meat while he’s working.

You can’t help it.

It’s like a flood of intense arousal hit you—harder than the super soldier can hit, truly, the gentleman—the moment you opened the door. Normally, this is a safe place to let go of sexual tension, to flush it out of your body, because the stench of sweat hovers thick in the air.

It smells…uh god, it smells spectacular today, warm and natural.

Your core feels heavy, a boulder anchoring you to the bench, planting you squarely in the sightline of Steve Rogers teaching two Deltas a fresh evasive technique. You lean forward, burying your nose against a closed fist to block some of the aroma, trying to gain the focus and momentum to get on with your own exercise.

Instead, minutes of staring later, Jones shouts your name.

“You good? You wanna jump in?”

Rogers doesn’t look up, his face pinched and hands shoved in his pockets. “We done for now,” he says with a curt nod, the sharpest of glances whipped in your direction, and the captain excuses himself.

Jones hops up one of the bleacher steps.

“How heavy was your workout today, Pinkie? You’re sweating bullets.”

That stupid nickname will haunt you forever, damn it, but he’s right. You are perspiring enough to leave drops rolling down your back and neck. The shock of one bead dripping between your breasts causes you to sit suddenly straight, and you haven’t done anything at all.

So embarrassing.

He’s a handsome man, no doubt about that, but he’s not hanging around for your pleasure. Rogers is here to do a job, as are you.

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve starts delicately.

Nat swirls her bottle of beer, a lazy smirk blooming in anticipation. He always asks that before something pertaining to romance in the modern world. She’s discussed this tell with him repeatedly but never fails to enjoy his shy pokes for dating tips.

Not that Steve has used any of her advice, but Natasha remains hopeful.

“What did Yelena say the Red Room mind-control felt like?”

Nat’s face falls. That was a chance of pace.

“Why…”

“I just wondered whether it was, ya know, blind obedience—“ Steve props himself on his arms across the table, quiet so as not to draw anyone else in the common area’s interest “—or an unexplained loyalty? Did she feel like a…a slave or was it a kind of…”

Nat takes a long sip of her beer, eyes narrowing.

“Love,” he finishes. “Did it seem like she loved following orders from Dreykov?”

“That’s an awful way to put it,” Nat mutters, disgusted.

Steve is quick to wave it off, telling her never mind, forget it, but he doesn’t change the subject once he notices she’s thinking on it.

“As far as I know, the Widow formula worked same as the Winter Soldier’s conditioning. They had no choice, no conscious thought about obeying or not.”

“Was it from electricity?” Steve presses. “Or a powder?”

“Her cure was what was kinda an aerosolized pow—what is this about?” Nat scoots closer to him across the small space. “Why are you asking about this?”

Steve does a poor impression of a man casually shrugging and enjoying a beer but stays distracted, scanning the room.

She sucks her cheek thoughtfully. “I don’t know about the mind-control thing, but I know that’s not what the pheromone lock felt like.” After Steve perks up, she attempts to elaborate. “That I could think about how much I wanted to hurt him, but my body couldn’t do it. I began the action, my arm moved at first, but no followthrough. One of the weirdest moments of my life. I was helpless.”

He’s always appreciated how honest Nat will be with him. Both of them work to be normal in a world they don’t really belong in.

“Helpless,” she adds, “not unaware.”

That’s how he feels; Steve cannot control how much he thinks about you, how he seeks out even a whiff of you, how ingrained his need has become so quickly.

He’s watched security footage of your team trainings, listened to your comms track of mission recordings, and stole a piece of your clothing.

Technically, Steve did not intend to take anything. It just happened.

Yesterday, you ran through the hall with your laundry in an open hamper, smacked right into him when rounding a corner, and dropped something without noticing.

He could have called after you. He could have returned the thin tank that lay crumpled at his feet. He did not. Steve held the soft bundle in one fist, deliberately down by his side, until alone in his quarters. He stood there just inside the door, thinking till it hurt about how wrong he was for doing this, how wrong he was for even thinking about you that way.

So he threw the garment into the trash and went about his night normally.

Steve, however, found himself with that same hand clamped over his nose and mouth as he furiously stroked his cock in the dark. He wouldn’t wash it until another round in the morning, shamed and sticky in the bed, breathing in the satisfaction like oxygen, his heart beating fast enough to concern him again.

He hasn’t gone to the doctor though since he knows what’s wrong.

He’s infected. He suspects you might be, too.

The goddamn training videos all feature Captain Rogers fighting.

You’re going to die.

It’s torture to sit in an uncomfortable chair, flanked by ten of your fellow junior agents, and watch his body spin, his chest heave, his legs spread as he leaps farther than any of these boys can hope to. Goddamn it, you’re going to die.

Rogers lets out this faint grunt when he’s been pummeling someone for a while and the microphone and camera are close enough. The footage is a mix of real battle and simulation, with blows either not connecting with the volunteers sparring or his punches being pulled. Those struggling noises actually get worse and more frequent when Rogers isn’t truly fighting. It appears harder for him to hold back than to go full-bore.

Goddamn it, he’s so hot.

The problem is two-fold now: these glimpses of him—hints of him by sight or sound or smell—throw your hormones into overdrive, AND when your adrenaline spikes, you’re desperate for a hit of him.

After the latest successful mission, with Echo Team being transported home on one of the main jets, the ones with lockers for the Big Six just in case, you found yourself pulled to that very corner, itching all over to find the source of that utterly intoxicating musk. You had to have it. You would combust without it, crawl right out of your skin, waste away on the grating and cargo net without it.

You wedged yourself in the small space behind the lockers, smothering the Cap suit to your face, nose practically bruised by the ridges of the shining star at his chest’s center, imagining it resting against his sternum. You let the flood wash over you, the pulse of sheer passion devastating your nervous system and exploding in your veins.

You imagine the body inside the suit pressing you into the wall with those broad shoulders, those strong arms pinning you by waist, that lean pelvis crushing your hips into the metal hurtling twenty-thousand feet above the Earth, and those dextrous hands anchoring your throat to offer him the best access.

Your head thuds against the lockers, alerting your team to shout from the front, calling you to rejoin them. Reluctantly, you replace the suit in silence, petting how the supple leather one last time before locking away that weakness to which you keep succumbing.

Goddamn it.

Steve’s convinced he’s going insane until Natasha tracks him down while they prep for a big multi-national sting of Ten Rings terror cells.

“Took a look at the Red Room files,” she throws out. “Found something interesting.”

At first, Steve doesn’t catch that this isn’t about the job at hand.

“The scientists played with the controls together.”

“Huh?” He tightens a clasp on his suit and swears his brain senses a phantom hint of you. “What controls? Was Red Room ever working with Ten Rings?”

“No, I mean the mind-control and the pheromone lock. They tried to kill two birds with one stone.”

Steve slides on his glove. “And?”

“Well, the results were catastrophic, so the project was abandoned.” Her brow ticks up when she notices his sudden, undivided attention. “It was a dual-acting compound, the owner of the Widow took one chemical and the Widow took the other. For obedience, loyalty, all that shit you mentioned. Added bonus being that you could sell a specific client a Widow only beholden to him. There were test subjects it didn’t work on at all, but there were also those who…”

Steve holds his breath.

“…became obsessed with each other. The—quote—‘owner’ lost control because he was also devoted to his Widow, and you can’t care about disposable resources, can you?” Nat’s voice drips with bitterness and judgment. “So, yeah, abandoned. There’s no mention of the testing continuing. They just moved on.”

“They just—what? Cured the subjects?”

“It didn’t work, Steve,” Natasha softly hisses back at his strained tone. “That’s what I’m telling you.” Her eyes bulge, encouraging the dots to connect. “Terminated. Widows don't have attachments, either.”

“Killed them,” he squeaks, clearing his throat. “And there were different powders?”

“Funny you should mention ‘powder’ because they did color-code them.”

Steve’s stomach drops. He know what’s coming.

“One was described as rozovyy.” Natasha turns to walk with him across the hangar to their gathered troop of agents. “Reminds me of that incident where Pinkie got exposed. Spent eight days in quarantine because two of the noobs played Hot Potato with what they thought was a dud dispersal pod. You remember that scare?”

He swipes his tongue over dry lips. “I recall something of the sort.”

“Guess we don’t have anything to worry about though. Nobody got doused in azure, did they?”

Steve swallows hard, sweating, heart rate kicking up, but it’s possible that’s because you’re among the agents assigned today and he can see you, positioned in the back—unnecessarily for your current rank,— focused strategically at his feet.

He swings around, halting Nat with a firm hand.

“Was there a reason they found it worked on some and not others?”

She sighs. “The pair that hated each other, it didn’t take. They did not want to be bonded in any way. There was no mutual…let’s call it ‘respect.’ That was the best guess.”

“Right.” Steve hangs his head, catching another imaginary whiff.

If he’s not already insane, it’s only a matter of time, and he knows it.

[Part Two]

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers Series List; Ko-Fi]

[mesetacadre]

(sorry in advance for the more personal ask, you're the most intelligent person i know of when it comes to these things)

genuinely, how are we supposed to find the strength to go on? it feels like capitalism has won. only a few decades ago my country was openly and proudly socialist, and now we're nothing but an american military base with an economy. everything's been privatised, the unions are broken, the people are starving, and we keep voting for more of this! people are gleefully begging for yet more exploitation! sometimes it feels there's not a drop of class consciousness to be found in the entire country, and that it's pointless to even hope for change. how can i stay sane?

The class struggle is not a team sport which either side can win or lose. It is a historical and economic process, one that's inevitable. As long as capitalism exists, there will be a social majority of workers it must exploit, alienation will still happen, and a portion of these workers will be aware of this fact. The class struggle is also a long process, one that, most of the time, is imperceptible to the individual in physical and time scale. Only sometimes, it accelerates to dizzying speeds and the conditions necessary for taking power are met. We can talk about victories and defeats, but we can't lose sight of the fact that those "only" are points in time, momentaneous advances or retreats in the process that is the class struggle, but they never mean the paralization of this process.

We can only really talk about the bourgeoisie taking power and creating the first properly capitalist states in the late 18th century and early 19th, but the bourgeoisie had lead or taken part in attempts at or glimpes of revolution as far back as the early 16th century. The bourgeoisie never really had an unifying theory of the class struggle, most were never really fully conscious of it. But they still eventually took power, once the development of the national economies advanced so far that it forced the replacement of the feudal mode of production, the bourgeois revolutions became inevitable. Marx and Engels only ever saw one real attempt at the proletariat taking power, in the Paris Commune of 1871, but it only ever lasted a few months. They both were long dead when the first actually (relatively) long-lasting instance of the proletariat in power broke the oppressor classes' veneer of invincibility.

When Marxists talk of inevitability it is not in a conspiratorial manner, or an expression of satisfied optimism, we never mean that "one day the capitalists will get what's coming to them", in a vague way. We mean that, only if communists continue to work towards the revolutionary organization of our class, is a complete overthrow of capitalism inevitable. We should all do an exercise is historical perspective when it comes to analyzing progress, take the Marx and Engels example from the previous paragraph, they never got to see an effective application of their theories. Class consciousness will fluctuate continuously, it always has. The bolshevik party in 1913 had nothing to do with the party that lead the October Revolution, and 8 years after the defeat of the 1905 revolution, I bet many felt like their work was hopeless. My point is that, while the borders of the Communist Party may shrink, grow, or even disappear, and while we might be savagely oppressed, no system of oppression has ever lasted forever.

When it comes to revolutions, there are objective and subjective conditions. The objective we can never control; it's the stability of capitalism, the characteristics of its suprastructure, if there is a crisis or not. The subjective is what's under our control; our own work as communists, the state of the revolutionary party, the degree of influence of communists at the core of the working class. These two sets of conditions interact with one another, with the objective conditions influencing the possibility of development of the subjective conditions much more than the reverse. What makes you hopeless is in part the objective conditions. Capitalism is quite stable right now (though not as much as it ever seems), and, for now, we can't do much about it, because the subjective conditions, the other part of your homelessness, are also very delayed. But these we do have control over, at first very little, but as they improve, the control we have over them also increases. Essentially, friend, all we can do is prepare our class, do our best to gain more workers to our cause, bit by bit, so that once capitalism shows one of its cracks, we can be ready to pry those cracks open and bust the whole system. The Russian soldiers in WW1 were already discontent when the bolsheviks began to agitate up to the trenches, Mao's guerrillas grew to an army taking advantage of the deep fragmentation China suffered throughout the first half of the century, etc.

Once again, class struggle is not a straight line that we move in two directions. It is a complex space. The overthrow of the USSR was a very profound blow to revolutionary organizations all around the world, of course, but the state of communism in general in 1995 was still in a much better position than it was merely 90 years prior. Every defeat also sharpens the tactics and strategies we use. Eastern Europe (where I assume you're from) did use to be socialist, and those worker's states were overthrown. But you are still in a better position than a communist in the interwar period, facing borderline fascistic dictatorship and a future of Nazi-Fascist occupation. They did not have any precedent or much practical experience to learn from, but you do. Every day that we delay work, even in the most hopeless of contexts, is a day more that our grandchildren will have to bear in capitalism, and a day more they're deprived of true freedom and self-government

[pastel-charm-14]

a beginners guide to pilates

pilates is a low-impact exercise method that focuses on strengthening the body, improving flexibility, and enhancing overall fitness. it's suitable for people of all ages and fitness levels, making it an excellent choice for beginners who are looking to start a new exercise routine. in this guide, we'll cover the basics of pilates and provide tips for getting started.

what is pilates?

pilates was developed by joseph pilates in the early 20th century as a system of exercises designed to improve strength, flexibility, and body awareness. it incorporates a series of controlled movements that target the core muscles, as well as other muscle groups throughout the body. pilates emphasizes proper alignment, breathing, and concentration, making it a holistic approach to fitness.

benefits of pilates

strengthens core muscles: pilates focuses on strengthening the muscles of the core, including the abdominals, lower back, and pelvic floor, which can improve posture and stability.

improves flexibility: pilates exercises promote flexibility and range of motion in the muscles and joints, reducing the risk of injury and enhancing overall mobility.

enhances body awareness: pilates encourages mindful movement and body awareness, helping individuals develop a deeper connection between mind and body.

promotes relaxation: pilates incorporates breathing techniques and relaxation exercises, which can help reduce stress and promote a sense of calm and well-being.

increases muscular endurance: pilates exercises are performed in a slow and controlled manner, which helps build muscular endurance over time, allowing individuals to perform daily activities with greater ease.

getting started with pilates

find a qualified instructor: if you're new to pilates, consider taking a class with a certified pilates instructor who can guide you through the exercises and ensure proper form and technique.

start with the basics: begin with beginner-level pilates exercises that focus on building core strength, such as the hundred, pelvic tilts, and leg circles. gradually progress to more challenging exercises as you gain strength and confidence.

focus on proper alignment: pay attention to your alignment during pilates exercises, keeping your spine neutral and your shoulders relaxed. engage your core muscles to stabilize your body and prevent injury.

breathe deeply: practice diaphragmatic breathing during pilates exercises, inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling fully through your mouth. coordinate your breath with your movements to promote relaxation and enhance concentration.

listen to your body: listen to your body and work at your own pace during pilates workouts. if an exercise feels too challenging or causes discomfort, modify it or take a break as needed.

be consistent: aim to practice pilates regularly to experience the full benefits of the method. start with two to three sessions per week and gradually increase the frequency and duration of your workouts as you progress.

remember that pilates is a journey, and progress takes time and dedication. be patient with yourself as you learn and grow in your practice, and enjoy the many benefits that pilates has to offer for your mind, body, and spirit.

[bloomzone]

Wonyoung : Inspired Full Workout Routine

If you’ve ever admired Jang Wonyoung’s long, toned figure and effortless stage presence, you’re not alone cuz same . As one of the most well-known K-pop idols, she maintains a lean yet strong physique while performing intense choreography and balancing a busy schedule. While Wonyoung hasn’t publicly shared her full workout routine, we can get a good idea of what she likely does by looking at the types of training that help idols stay fit in some shows

This workout is inspired by a mix of dance, strength training, and flexibility exercises focusing on toning the body while keeping things light and graceful. If you want to flexibility ... this routine will help you build endurance, improve posture, and tone your body without gaining excessive muscle !

first here are two workout video u can start with:

first | second

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Warm-up (10 minutes) – wake up ur body!

Before getting into the main workout, a proper warm-up is essential to prevent injuries and improve performance. This warm-up gets your blood flowing and preps your muscles for movement.

1. Jumping Jacks (2 minutes)

Start with classic jumping jacks to get your heart rate up.

Move your arms fully overhead for a full-body effect.

2. Dynamic Stretching (5 minutes)

Leg Swings – Hold onto a chair or wall and swing one leg forward and backward (10 reps each leg).

Arm Circles – Extend your arms to the sides and make small circles, gradually increasing their size.

Hip Rotations – Rotate your hips in circular motions (30 seconds in each direction).

3. High Knees (1 minute)

March or jog in place while bringing your knees as high as possible.

Engage your core for better balance and coordination.

4. Torso Twists (2 minutes)

Stand with feet slightly apart and twist your torso left and right.

This helps loosen up your spine and waist.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Cardio & Dance (20 minutes)

Dance is one of the best full-body workouts, and since Wonyoung is constantly performing, we can assume dance training is a big part of her fitness routine. This section will help improve stamina, coordination, and agility.

1. Dance Routine (15 minutes)

Pick a K-pop choreography ( anti fragile by lesserafim or super shy by nwjns are great choices as a start 💀 ).

Focus on full-body engagement, precise movements, and fluidity.

Repeat the chorus multiple times to increase endurance.

2. Jump Rope (5 minutes)

Grab a jump rope and go for steady jumps to burn calories and improve footwork.

If you don’t have a rope, mimic the movement in place.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Strength Training (25 minutes)

Wonyoung has a slim yet toned body, which suggests she does low-impact strength exercises that emphasize definition rather than muscle bulk.

1. Squats (4 sets of 15 reps)

Stand with feet shoulder-width apart and squat down as if sitting in a chair.

Engage your core and push through your heels.

2. Lunges (3 sets of 12 reps per leg)

Step forward into a deep lunge, making sure your knee doesn’t go past your toes.

This helps tone your thighs and improve balance.

3. Push-ups (3 sets of 10-15 reps)

Keep your core tight and lower your body in a controlled motion.

Modify with knee push-ups if needed.

4. Plank (3 sets, hold for 30 seconds to 1 minute)

Keep your body straight and avoid letting your hips drop.

This strengthens your core and improves posture.

5. Leg Raises (3 sets of 15 reps)

Lie on your back and raise your legs without touching the ground.

Engage your abs to keep your movements controlled.

6. Bicep Curls (3 sets of 12 reps)

Use light dumbbells or water bottles.

Slowly lift and lower your arms for a controlled workout.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧ Flexibility & Cool-down (10 minutes)

Idols like Wonyoung need flexibility for fluid dance movements. Stretching helps prevent stiffness and promotes long, lean muscles.

1. Standing Hamstring Stretch (1 minute per leg)

Extend one leg forward with your heel on the ground and lean in.

2. Quadriceps Stretch (1 minute per leg)

Grab your ankle and pull it toward your glutes for a deep stretch.

3. Hip Flexor Stretch (1 minute per leg)

Step forward into a lunge and push your hips forward.

4. Upper Back & Shoulder Stretch (1 minute per side)

Interlace your fingers and push your hands forward to round your back.

5. Cobra Stretch (1 minute)

Lie on your stomach and push your upper body up with your hands.

6. Child’s Pose (2 minutes)

Sit back on your heels with arms extended forward for full-body relaxation.

ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ꪆ୧Final Tips for wonyoung fitness routine

Hydration is key! Drink water throughout your workout.

Don’t overtrain. Wonyoung’s routine likely includes proper rest days.

Consistency is everything. Do this workout 3-4 times a week.

Pair it with a balanced diet. Nourish your body with protein and healthy carbs.

@bloomzone !🍀

[vienssunshine]

The dialogues you write for maki are so goddamn heavenly, please, what is it like when her girl squirts on her glasses (bonus if in the next morning, everyone in the dormitory heard them)? 😣🙏

Just Can't Focus

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw: semi-public sex, cunnilingus, squirting word count: 1.8k author’s note: thank you so much for the request! you're so sweet!! i had a lot of fun adapting your request into a fic, hope you enjoy! also, maki looked so good in the latest episode. i need her... description: something about watching you train gets maki so riled up.

The day has been long. 

Nothing slows down time quite like having to hold a plank, and Gojo, who’s in charge of training you and your peers today, has been making the hours crawl by with countless strength training exercises. Your core is aching and your legs feel like they’re about to give out, which is why it feels a blessing when your teacher gets a phone call that pulls him away into a meeting with the higher-ups.

“Pair up and find a place around campus to practice sparring while I’m gone,” Gojo instructs, “We’ll meet back up in 30. Don’t forget to have fun!” He waves as he heads towards the school, leaving you and the other exhausted students alone in the field.

Nobara turns her head to you, about to speak, when an arm interlocks with yours. You look to your side to see that Maki has claimed you as her partner.

“Maki!” Nobara huffs, “I wanted to spar with her.”

Maki shrugs. “Be quicker then.” 

Nobara’s face darkens with a scowl and you hurry to resolve the conflict. “I’ll spar with you next time,” you tell Nobara, “Promise.”

“You better.” She crosses her arms and walks towards the other sorcerers, annoyed she’ll have to partner up with either idiot #1 or idiot #2 (Yuuji or Megumi). 

“Let’s go find a spot,” Maki says, though she begins pulling you off towards a forest nearby, seemingly already having a place in mind. 

Soon you’re past the tree line, and before you can get a word out about the sparring drill, your back is pressed up against a tree and Maki’s lips are on yours. 

It catches you by surprise—Maki tends to be unpredictable, a reason why it’s hard for you to beat her in a match—but it’s instinctive how you fall into the rhythm of her lips, melting into her touch as you kiss her back. Her leg nestles between yours and her strong hands land on your sides, brushing along the curve of your waist as she leans into you. 

“Need you…now,” she mumbles in between kisses, the rasp of her voice confessing desperation. Even though you and Maki have been a thing for a while now, she knows how to mask her true feelings, so until she had you pinned against a tree, you didn’t have a clue that such a need was building up in her all afternoon. 

“Yeah?” you say, resting your arms atop her built shoulders, pulling her closer. “Can’t wait until after training?”

Maki tugs off her uniform jacket, leaving her in the white long sleeve she wears under her uniform, and lays it on the grass by your feet. “No, so come sit down.”

Her mouth is inseparable from yours as she helps lower your body down onto her jacket, and the moment you’re sitting down, she’s kneeled between your thighs, reaching up past your skirt to dip her fingers into the waistband of your black tights. 

“Lift up your hips for me, pretty,” she murmurs against your lips. You listen, and she pulls your tights off, and then your underwear. It’s a little strange, how you’re half-naked in one of the school’s forests, but you have a hard time caring when Maki hooks her arms underneath your thighs and brings her mouth to your cunt.

“Already so wet for me,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “Have you been thinking about me too?”

“Maybe,” you say, though the evidence speaks for itself. How could you not? For the entirety of the strength training session, all you could notice was Maki. With the way her defined muscles flexed as she worked through Gojo’s ceaseless exercises, it was impossible not to. You had to look over and take in how the effort contorted her elegant features, had to hear how it sharpened her breath. And every single time you glanced over to her, without fail, she was already looking at you.

“You were just as distracted,” you say, trying to keep still despite the sensation of her hot breath fanning against your cunt. “You really should be paying attention during training.”

She smirks. “I think it’ll be easier to focus after I have you cum on my tongue.”

Her warm mouth connects with your folds, forcing a choked gasp from your throat. You rock your hips back and away, caught off guard at how quickly sharp pleasure cuts through your insides, but Maki’s strong arms keep you locked in place. Her eyes flutter shut at the contact and she deeply inhales, finally gratified after wanting to be with you like this all afternoon.

Your head lolls to the side when she begins to move, licking long stripes up from your hole to your clit with a flat tongue. Pulling up the fabric of your skirt gives you an unobstructed view and you watch, eyes lidded, as she pushes her mouth further into your cunt, just unable to get enough. Then she pushes her palms gently against your thighs, opening yourself up further to her. You allow it, legs falling open, and lean back against the tree behind you.

“There we go,” she says, “Relax for me, okay?” 

You realize why when a finger circles the outside of your hole. Maki’s tongue continues to bathe your clit with wet swipes of her tongue, only increasing the amount of slick coating your opening. She uses this lubrication to shallowly slip the tip of her finger in and out of you, stimulating the tight ring of muscle circling your entrance. Then, she lengthens her movements, pushing in deeper with every thrust of her fingers. Your breath comes out shaky. “Fuck…Maki…”

She begins to move her finger inside of you, pushing it up against your walls in a way that has heat rushing to your lower stomach. Your eyes flutter shut and each pump of her finger pushes a soft moan from your lips.

“If you wanted to make it up to me for being such a distraction all afternoon, those pretty noises of yours are doing the job,” Maki says.

She adds another finger, which only makes you call out her name once more in that breathy voice of yours she adores. The pressure is immense, especially with her fingers being so strong and precise. 

“It’s…so much-” you say, pressing your eyebrows together. You don’t think you’ve had Maki eat you out and finger you at the same time before; the sensation is overwhelming. Every harsh thrust of her fingers is complemented by a sweet lick on your clit, a two-front war that makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. Any attempt at escaping the pleasure is nonexistent with Maki’s hold on you, and soon your stomach is twisting, like a violent undercurrent is ripping through your lower half. It’s new, and more intense than you’ve experienced before. 

“Maki I…I feel weird…” you say, squirming. 

“You’re doing great, pretty girl,” Maki responds before diving her tongue into your folds once more.

“I’m serious…Maki…I don’t know…” Your fingers tighten in the grass around you.

“Does it feel good?” Maki asks.

“Feels…s’good,” you respond.

“Then relax, enjoy it.” 

You want to listen to her, you really do, but there’s a hesitant voice in your head, one telling you that if you give in to the pleasure, you’ll be giving in completely. You’re just so full; there’s so much pent-up energy in your body that’s begging to be released. But the more she touches you, the more encouragement and praise leaving her mouth, the less power you have over the force building up inside your core. 

“I feel like I’m gonna…” 

She curls her fingers inside you, pressing against your sweet spot with a force that has your body shaking and seconds away from release.

“Fuck—Maki—m’gonna—“

You’re unprepared when your orgasm hits you, and because it hits you hard, you’re helpless when fluid rushes out of you at the intense sensation. You throw your head back, pleasure rolling through your lower half and being expelled from your body. Unaffected, Maki continues to finger fuck you, only prolonging the ruthless orgasm she’s sending through your body.

“Attagirl,” Maki says, grinning. 

You’re swearing, or moaning, maybe a mixture of both, as the climax pummels your poor body, and you hold onto Maki’s arms for dear life, fingers digging into the fabric of her white long sleeve.

When her movements slow, coaxing you back into reality, the haze washes off and you realize that you’ve squirted for the first time–all over Maki’s face.

You sit up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—fuck, your glasses.”

She cuts you off. “It’s hot, pretty. Don’t apologize for something you don’t have to, mkay?” She takes her glasses from her face and rubs the liquid coating them off on her jacket beneath you. 

“I’ve just…that’s never happened before,” you say, still reeling from the sensation.

“Makin’ me feel special,” she says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, she stands, offering you her hand. “Are you okay to walk? Everyone should be regrouping by now. I think if we stay any longer, I’ll want to try to make that happen again.”

“Uh…yeah, let’s go,” you say, grabbing onto it and letting her help you up. You’re still grappling with what just happened; you didn’t even know that could happen. 

Dazed, you find your underwear on the sleeve of Maki’s jacket, uncrumple it, and pull it back up on you.

“Thanks for that,” Maki says, threading her hand into yours for the rest of the walk out of the forest.

You and Maki are the last to join the group. Aside from Gojo, who’s meeting must’ve run long. Guess training ends early today.  

As you walk up to the rest of the sorcerers, Yuuji tilts his head and then points at Maki, “Did you lose your jacket?” 

Your eyes widen as you realize that Maki isn’t wearing it, she’s still in her button-up. Though, it’s not like she could put it back on, your fluids had soaked the material. “I took it off when we were sparring. Guess I forgot it,” she responds.

“Is that why you took off your tights too?” Panda asks, pointing to your bare legs. Heat rushes to your face.

Maki scowls. “Last chance to mind your own or I’ll be your sparring partner next time.” 

“Alright! Okay!” The rest of them hurry off but fail to do a good job pretending they aren’t whispering about the two of you.

“I’ll go grab our clothes and put them in the wash, so you go take a break okay?” She grins. “I hope I didn’t work you too hard.”

“How considerate,” you tease, “But I would prefer it if you came back to my room after doing the laundry. Maybe then you’ll be able to tire me out.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

[technicallyhappyarcade]

Core Strength: A Comprehensive Guide to Improving Your Core Strength

Achieve optimal fitness with enhanced core strength. Our comprehensive guide covers the best exercises, workouts, and yoga poses to build a strong and stable core. Discover effective strategies to improve posture, prevent injuries, and excel in various activities. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced fitness enthusiast, our expert tips and insights will help you develop a solid foundation of core strength.