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#caption#original caption#ai caption#celeb caption#sophie turner caption#encouragement caption#first time caption#shopping caption#victoria's secret caption#curtsy caption#excited caption#progress caption#feminization caption
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*curtsies* I am extending the most humblest of greetings to you, Sir
I recently discovered your blog, through my bestie @karlie-xcx and I haven't been able o stop thinking of it ever since.
I've been making captions for years now, for the longest period of time my content was posted under THEPrincessElizabeth...
I am a completely submissive slut, I've recently been owned by @queendestiny6912 and with rigorous training and mandatory hypno sessions, she has broken me for good.
I don't possess a single article of male clothing, I've grown out my hair, I've become proficient in doing my make-up and I've been on Hormone Replacement Therapy for the past 2 years.
I admire your work and although I might not be as "boyish" as you'd perhaps hope for, I can assure you that I'm one of the most fun dolls you could ever play with. If you were to ask Karlie, I'm sure she can vouch for just how pathetic I can be.
I hope to hear back from you!
Love, Faggerina Elizabeth
As pretty an application to be a cast member and faggy little muse in the J-universe as I've seen, Elizabeth. And you have the Bitchfinder General herself @karlie-xcx advocating on your behalf too! Well done.
I'll get around to meeting everyone that wants to be met soon enough. There's just something of a backlog and a queue at the minute. I will come find you in due course, rest assured.
P.s. being 'boyish' is very much not a requirement.
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11/8/18- 373- Another Throwback Thursday with a rare Christeen creation from Chris's early years of experiencing girlhood and the thrills of Reluctant Princess appointments. Petticoated, pantied and pierced with a flower in his hair, Chris is more of a girly girl than any of the neighborhhod girls ever dream of being. "Will you curtsy for us, Chris?" they squeal.
kim1girl Daily Chris Classic Caption #3 - 11/8/21 - Every neighborhood girl wants to see how feminized Chris is becoming with every trip to the Reluctant Princess salon. Chris no longer seems reluctant, though. Perhaps she was thrilled to hear that Aunt Julia wants her hair growing out now. What a pretty little petticoated miss!
This Christeen art from the summer of 2008 is extremely rare and not in circulation.
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1/17/25 - The word is out in the neighborhood. While Chris may have been born a boy, Aunt Julia insists that her soon to be niece live fully as a Miss. The neighborhood is thrilled that Chris is now one of the girls.
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Aftertaste
Chapter 2: Rats in the Walls
She is a rat—an enchanting little beggar, draped in the rags of some tragic poetry only she can hear. And he, a fool of the highest order, fingers the cold edge of his credit card, wondering if the universe might accept a transaction in exchange for the ghost of her cheek against his skin.
Read below or on Ao3. Hehe.
Is it more appropriate to return a young woman’s car keys the following day, or to personally deliver her vehicle to her residence? Which option is least likely to suggest predatory intent, particularly when one is several decades her senior?
He hits enter, the steam from his coffee curling around his face like an ironic halo, and watches Google sputter out results about designated drivers and locksmiths. It strikes him, not for the first time, that the internet is woefully unprepared for nuanced questions of morality, especially when phrased by an idiot as gloriously long-winded as himself.
Google might as well have responded with a condescending sigh and a flashing banner that read: "Oh, sure, let’s solve your existential crises for you, Professor. Maybe try ‘Don’t be creepy’ and call it a day?" Or perhaps it would simply send him a link to a DIY guide on digging one’s own grave, captioned: "You’ll need this soon enough."
Finally, he resigns himself to the only logical option: going straight to the source. Rook.
Good morning, Rook. This is Emmrich. Where would you like me to deliver your car keys? Take care.
The message is sent, painfully polite, carefully worded. And then the waiting begins. Two hours of excruciating silence during which he oscillates between pacing the room and contemplating whether clawing at the wallpaper would be an effective use of his time. Surely, this is the moment she decides it’s all been a colossal mistake. She’ll call Bellara in disgust, declare this the most catastrophic setup of her life, and promptly vomit out a window at the mere memory of his existence.
Perhaps she’ll even hire a falconer to dispatch a well-trained hawk to retrieve the keys from his pocket—anything to avoid providing him with so much as a postal code.
But lo and behold, the miracle occurs: Rook responds.
y r u up so early?? drive it. thx xxxxxx
He stares at the trailing row of kisses, dissecting them as though they were a cryptic manuscript. Does she mean it? Could this possibly be intentional? Or is this just the accidental poetry of a girl who sat on her phone, and this is the unfortunate result of her backside pressing random keys? A mystery indeed.
****
He prides himself on his attention to detail. Or, more precisely, his attention to people—their little inconsistencies, their telltale cracks. Judging from her reply, he must have woken her up, so he detours to a café so quaint it practically curtsies when you enter. He orders a latte to go, then, seized by a bout of overthinking, adds a mocha and an Americano. Lactonic, bitter, or sweet—let her decode his intentions from that trifecta.
Into a dainty box go a pain au chocolat and a cinnamon-apple babka, the kind of gesture that tiptoes the line between charming thoughtfulness and embarrassing overcompensation.
When he arrives at her car, it is, of course, exactly as described: ugly, silver, scratched, a two-seater that looks like it’s been cursed by a vengeful valet. A library bag slumps on the passenger seat, an insult to the word “placed.” He hesitates, torn between decorum and the kind of nosy curiosity that makes the elderly peer through lace curtains. Then, naturally, he peeks. Just a little. There they are—books. Actual books. Proof that she possesses not just a mouth but a mind, however buried.
And then he notices the fuel gauge. It’s not just on empty—it’s somewhere below it, in the realm of last gasps and whispered prayers. The fact that the engine starts at all feels like an act of divine intervention.
He exhales, a martyr to his own compulsions, and pulls into a gas station. As he fills the tank to the brim, he pictures the car sighing too, smug and sanctimonious, its imaginary lashes batting in shameless gratitude. Oh, thank you, kind sir, it coos, she never feeds me, you know. Neglectful creature, isn’t she? Meanwhile, he calculates whether this—along with the coffee and pastries—might earn him so much as a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. Or perhaps, knowing Rook, an insincere "thx" text with a typo thrown in for good measure.
****
He’s seen buildings like this before. He’s lived in them; during his undergrad days and, embarrassingly, well into graduate school. The kind of place where the rent is cheap enough to attract students but still overpriced for what you get: walls so thin they might as well be spun from dreams or discarded cereal boxes, and windows that rattle ominously in the gentlest breeze.
It stirs a certain grim nostalgia in him, though he’s not entirely sure why. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that if he wandered two blocks south after dark, he’d almost certainly be mugged or shanked. But even that, somehow, feels quaint, a sentimental nod to his younger, poorer, stupider self.
He briefly wonders about Gustave, the unofficial fourth roommate from a similar apartment in his past. Gustave never made it onto the lease—being a rat who lived, quite literally, in the wall. His wall, precisely. Hopefully, Gustave moved on to bigger and better things. Perhaps a restaurant dumpster, or the seedy underbelly of pest control fame.
"Oh gods," says Rook when she finally opens the door to him.
Her apartment is a sauna, the air thick and cloying, and there’s a line of sweat tracing her throat—a small, shimmering trail he, embarrassingly, cannot stop staring at. She’s wearing shorts so short they're practically theoretical, her sharp hipbone protruding like a cruel little accent mark.
He stares, horrified at himself, and immediately envisions shoving the pain au chocolat and babka into her mouth, muffling whatever inevitable complaint she’d utter, and dragging her out to find the greasiest, most cholesterol-laden burger in the city. Anything, really, to erase the absurd eroticism of this sweltering, sticky scene and put some meat on those bones.
"Good morning," he says, because the clock hasn’t quite betrayed him yet, and hands her the drink carrier and the absurdly elegant box of pastries—an offering so pristine it looks like it belongs in a museum, not in her battered doorway.
"Are these for me?"
No, Rook, they’re for Gustave. The pesky freeloader is your new tenant, congratulations. I thought I’d drop by to reminisce about our shared history. "Of course," he replies instead, his smile a polished shield of civility. "A small apology for disturbing you earlier. Your car is parked directly across the street; you should have no difficulty locating it." And, of course, the full tank of gas, a silent ode to his own sense of decency. "Allow me to retrieve your keys, and I shall leave you to enjoy the rest of your morning."
"You’re not coming in?" she asks, setting the coffees on the floor. She rifles through the pastry box, her finger stabbing into the babka, collapsing its tender surface in a sugary implosion. Sweet bread weeps, and she glances up at him, licking cinnamon from her fingertip.
"Come on," she says, not bothering to wait for a response.
She takes the pastries, leaving him crouched like a penitent to gather the drink carrier and push the door closed. Heaven forbid someone should slip in while it’s ajar to steal… what, precisely? The peeling wallpaper? The tragic humidity? The distinct aroma of youthful neglect? There’s nothing here worth the trouble of theft, save perhaps the raw comedy of its existence.
"Did you sleep well?" Rook asks, lounging on an offensively green settee that seems to defy all principles of taste. She pats the cushion beside her like someone coaxing a dog onto furniture it has no business occupying. He raises an eyebrow, but the patting only grows more emphatic until, with the reluctant precision of a wooden soldier, he lowers himself beside her. His posture is unnervingly straight, as if the settee might collapse beneath anything less rigid.
"I did," he answers.
"Hm. Good," she says, already distracted, looking through the lineup of drinks he foolishly overthought. He feels his cheeks heat, a blush of shame at his own ridiculousness. How he—a man of supposed intellect—managed to embarrass himself with coffee is beyond comprehension.
"You know," she continues, "I even got out the good instant coffee for you. Being a decent host and all that. But here you are, outdoing me, bringing breakfast."
"The good instant coffee?" he echoes.
"Mm-hm," she murmurs, not even glancing up. "The one without the clumps."
For a moment, there is silence, broken only by the faint shuffle of her taking the mocha and handing him the latte. He glances around her apartment, and there, in the peeling paint and mismatched furniture, he sees a ghost of himself. A younger man, not yet grey, not yet creaking, back when staying up all night wasn’t just possible but a point of pride. When energy came in the form of a sharp, powdery line, questionable in origin, certain in effect, snorted off some equally questionable surface before stumbling into the university labs at sunrise.
The sink catches his eye—cheap, dented, and familiar, as if resurrected from his second year of graduate school. He’s almost sure it’s the same model Johanna used to brew her kaleidoscopic, mind-altering concoctions. She’d turned their shared apartment into a mad chemist’s lair, dosing their friends with drinks that looked like party favors and hit like freight trains. He doubts Rook’s sink has witnessed quite the same level of chaos, but, then again, he wouldn’t bet on it.
He wonders, idly, why he never married Johanna—or, more to the point, why Johanna never married him. And then, as if summoned by the memory, her voice returns, sharp and amused, calling him a "sentimental twat." Ah, yes. That. That might have had something to do with it.
"How does a professor get rich?"
He considers dragging a hand down his face, perhaps peeling it off entirely in the process, leaving behind nothing but gleaming bone and raw sinew—far easier than answering.
He exhales slowly, as though summoning air from the depths of his being. "I beg your pardon?"
"How did you get rich?" she repeats, her voice maddeningly even, infuriatingly direct. "I know what faculty earn. Well, Leliana knows, and she tells me. Nobody in academia is rich. So, how?"
He sighs again, deeper and longer. "Happy circumstances," he says at last. "Commercializing research. Licensing patents to biotech and pharmaceutical companies. Dry, tedious work, I assure you. A footnote in the annals of capitalism."
"I’d rather be bored and rich than intellectually stimulated and eating ramen every night."
To his great horror, he barks out a laugh—loud, inelegant, entirely unplanned—because, damn it, she’s right. Whatever self-congratulatory narrative he might spin about his own brilliance, wealth is far more tolerable than the romance of poverty.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her set the now-empty pastry box aside and slide to her knees with the casual grace of someone entirely unaware—or perfectly aware—of the effect such movements can have. She sits before him, her hand resting lightly on his thigh, and he feels his spine stiffen in response—defensive, awkward, as if he were preparing to be knighted or executed.
"You’re such a pretty, pretty man, Emmrich," she says, her tone a languid sigh. "Bellara was right. You do smell good. And look at you—here you are, sitting with me, when I’m sure there are far more important things demanding your attention."
"There are not," he blurts, far too quickly, the words escaping before his dignity can intervene. The moment they’re spoken, he wishes for an immediate and painless death. Here he is indeed, reduced to this—a puddle of nerves and idiocy, heart thudding far too loudly, all because a young, pretty girl has deigned to offer him a handful of meaningless compliments.
He can practically hear the tragic violin score accompanying his descent into lunacy.
He should reward her graciousness. Maybe with a marriage proposal and a very shiny ring. A joint credit card, embossed with her name in gold. Champagne served every morning, the flute garnished with a delicate rim of his own pitiful tears—tears of rapture, of gratitude, of sheer disbelief at being noticed, indulged, condescended to by someone so exquisite, so radiant, so preposterously, infuriatingly young.
"Do you want to see me again?" she asks, her hand on his thigh beginning a slow ascent.
"Yes," he replies far too eagerly, watching helplessly as her uneven nails snag a thread from his trousers and tease it free.
"I want to see you again too," she says cheerfully. There’s no vanilla clinging to her today, yet he smells it anyway, a phantom scent mocking his self-control. "What happened to the oysters?"
"The oysters?" he repeats, blinking, as her hand reaches his belt, casually dismantling him one buckle at a time.
"Yes, the oysters. I didn’t eat them. You didn’t eat them. What happened to them? Were they just… thrown away?"
"Oh," he says, fumbling for coherence. "No, I—I do not eat meat. I assume they were discarded."
Or, quite possibly, consumed by Xavier, who he distinctly recalls once eating salmon off the kitchen floor with an abandon that would render the oysters’ fate positively dignified by comparison.
She tugs his belt loose and it’s only when her hand slips inside that he, embarrassingly late, understands exactly what she’s about to do. His body reacts with humiliating predictability—his cock twitches eagerly, his hips offering a mindless little jerk, as if they’ve made the decision for him.
"Oh, Rook, Rook, no, no, no," he stammers, his voice rising and falling like a badly tuned instrument. "You don’t—oh, oh—Rook, no, you do not—" The protests disintegrate entirely as her hand wraps around him.
"You don’t like this?" she asks, and for the first time, her voice carries a note of something almost shy, almost hesitant.
"Like is not the word," he whispers, a pathetic mixture of panic and pleasure. "I simply—oh, you do not have to—"
"Yes," she agrees, withdrawing her hand and licking her palm in a motion so drawn-out it could belong to a cat grooming itself, smug and self-satisfied. He half expects her to stretch luxuriously and yawn. Then, with that same calm, she wraps her hand around him again, resuming her rhythm. "I don’t need to do anything. So glad we’re on the same page."
He lets his head loll back against the settee, his chest heaving as she strokes. Just as he dares to believe his heart might settle, her mouth closes over the head of his cock. She lingers, her tongue swirling just enough to drive him mad, before releasing with a slick, depraved little pop. The added saliva gleams as she smears it down his shaft, her little hand so very diligent in its efforts. His hips buck forward, thrusting into the tight heat of her fist like he’s already forgotten what dignity feels like.
"I was very good at these," she remarks. "We called it hand of glory in camp. As a joke." Her own hand doesn’t falter, her rhythm infuriatingly consistent. "Not so much with the other part, though. I think I tried it once. Well, one and a half times. It sucked. No pun intended."
She hums thoughtfully, her mouth hovering close, warm and parted, without making contact.
"I could try it with you, though," she says, her tone breezy, as if she’s offering him dessert. "If you'd like. You’re an educator, after all. Could... educate me through it."
And just like that, his approaching orgasm tips its hat, mutters a polite farewell, and strolls out the door, leaving him stranded in awkward lucidity. He catches her hand, presses it briefly to his lips, then releases her and begins restoring himself to decency with the haste of a man escaping a crime scene. When she moves to stop him, he almost bats her hand away, the rising tide of mortification making him clumsier than usual.
"Well, fuck," Rook mutters in sardonic disbelief. "That’s one hell of a way to say no to getting your dick sucked. I’m not that bad, and I don’t exactly have anything else to offer you."
"You do not have to offer me anything," he whispers, appalled.
He’s a sentimentalist. A romantic. The sort of man who still believes in flowers and candlelit dinners. Let him be old-fashioned. Let him take her out, hold her hand, meet her parents, and have her wave awkwardly over the graves of his long-gone ancestors—long before his cock ever finds its way into her mouth again.
This is who he is. A "sentimental twat." He holds doors open, writes to ensure someone got home safely, and even if he does wander down the dark alley of a casual fuck, he always provides coffee and a thoughtfully curated set of toiletries the next morning.
"Let me take you out again," he pleads.
Rook rests her chin on his knee, her face tilted upward, her long hair brushing the floor. "I don’t have anything nice to wear."
"Then we will find you something," he says, already constructing the image in his mind. Blue—of course, blue. The color would suit her eyes, her not-quite-blonde-not-quite-brown hair, the color of noble blood, though the nobility it evokes is long since impoverished, reduced to faded titles and empty accounts. Just like her. Perhaps he could wear purple beside her—a royal contrast to her threadbare charm, the two of them a mismatched tableau of aspiration and ruin.
"I just said it to see what you’d say."
"And I meant every word of my reply."
"Oh. So if I see a pair of shoes to match whatever dress you’re buying me—you’ll get those too?"
"Naturally. A proper ensemble demands completeness."
She buries her face against his thigh, giggling into it. "You know what would really suit me, Emmrich? What would make me look, like, so good?" She pauses, forcing him to lean closer, her breath brushing his lips like the prelude to a secret. "My tuition being paid."
And with that she snorts, leaving him to wonder if she’s laughing at the joke or at the certainty that he just might say yes.
#this stupid AU is so fun#modern sugar daddy emmrook au lol#my stupid writing#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#emmrook#dragon age the veilguard#datv#da4 emmrich#emmrich smut
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… just a thought.
When announcing a pregnancy in “real life” you, out of following the internet-real life etiquette, would post an instagram and/or Facebook ( depending on age/socially which app is being used as standard for life updates) a picture and caption announcing/thanking others (people in real life/on the internet if you are not the one who announced it by example ) for the good wishes. This is done as to give people the opportunity to say their good wishes. Because they may not live near or can keep in contact constantly ❤️ but would love to participate in keeping the good contact or wishing the best for a fellow human.
Now to the what do you say;
The right move is to ONLY mention the good things.
“ thank you all for the good wishes we are delighted and excited for our first baby”
Not
“ thank you THE ONES WHO WISHED US THE BEST AND TO THESE PEOPLE WHO DO NOT..” let me stop you there. Don’t mention the bad things.. even if it was the popular opinion from the public out of two.
But what you really would not do ( normal people , not actors if they use their social media for work only) post two/three videos that have nothing to do with the announcement.
Personal opinion:
If you really value your wife, friends and family, general public and your own so supposed “ gentleman behavior/ family man/ kind guy” act, it will be within range of your personality, to be expected, that the first thing you post after an announcement, IS AN OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT.
Ps: if you do not have common sense to understand that this is FOR EVERYONE and it about THE CURTSY of giving people who can’t text you or call or visit the chance to congratulate you, then by all means… fuck off my page you tone deaf ( you can’t read the room to understand the unspoken rules and customs) bitch. I’m not hear to educate you, if you can’t understand that humans have rules and habits for reasons like respect or love or socializing that may not show up directly than just spare me the time and piss off, otherwise i will jinx you for a month with a clarity spell.
Foretold is forewarned
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On top of everything else he posted about receiving a mammogram when actual women are in need of those services
ByGenevieve Gluck August 6, 2023
A Michigan man who identifies as both transgender and Muslim has filed a legal claim against his ex-boyfriend demanding the return of his amputated testicles which he says are being kept in a jar in the refrigerator.
Brianna Kingsley, 40, filed the claim against William Wojciechowski, 37, in Pontiac’s 50th District Court on Thursday. In a handwritten affidavit, Kingsley wrote: “Defendant retains possession of my surgically extracted testicles, preserved in [a] Mason jar, kept in [the] fridge next to the eggs. Demand immediate return of my human remains specimen and damages of $6,500.”

Kingsley is also known as Zahrah Bri-Zee Muharib on social media, an Arabic name, and appears to have recently converted to Islam.
In April, Kingsley uploaded a video to his TikTok account titled “The Unboxing of Dee’s Nutz,” which depicts him removing a clear bag with a biohazard label while wearing a lace veil and a pink dress.
The video is captioned, “Transgender woman unboxes her surgically extracted lady balls that was [sic] packaged by the Hospital that performed her gender-affirming bottom surgery.” Smiling and laughing, Kingsley holds up the bag containing his testicles before returning them to the box and performing a curtsy. In the background behind him, a painting of a nude woman with testicles can be seen.

Wojciechowski told The Detroit News that Kingsley had been harassing him for the past eight months since their split. Using “she/her” pronouns to refer to Kingsley, Wojciechowski said “I’ll be telling my lawyer about this because it’s getting ridiculous. I don’t owe her anything. She’s been harassing me ever since we broke up. I had to take out a PPO against her.” The personal protection order against Kingsley was signed by Oakland County Circuit Court Judge Lisa Gorcyca on December 13, 2022, just two weeks after the couple’s breakup. The order remains in effect for a year after its issuance date, and in the document Wojciechowski claimed Kingsley threatened to harm him and had harassed with him at his workplace.
In a recent Facebook post, Wojciechowski shared The Detroit News article concerning the litigation against him, stating, “Here’s the latest on Brianna Kingsley and the harassment she is putting me through. Please feel free to share and spread the word.”

One individual who responded to the article commented, “I hope you finally get relief from her incessant crap. JFC she uses everyone then turns on them in a fiery rage. You deserve peace.”
After their falling out, Wojciechowski alleges that Kingsley abducted his two dogs and held them for several weeks. In a Facebook post, he writes that Kingsley violated the protective order he’d lodged against him by visiting his home in February, at which time Kingsley “stole them [the dogs] out of my front yard on Valentine’s Day.”
"I’m still moving forward with the charges against Brianna Kingsley. She violated the PPO I have on her by taking my dogs,” Wojciechowski stated the following month after having recovered the animals.
“She needs to be held accountable for her actions no matter what. The dogs are OK, but they do show more fear and aggression since they were taken. Especially Butch. He keeps pulling his head up and away when I try to pet under his chin. Which tells me that his whining and barking triggered Brianna and she punished him for it,” Wojciechowski said.
According to his Facebook profile, Kingsley organized a “queer night” event in 2019 where he performed at a strip club in Ypsilanti. The event, titled “First Fully Nude Transsexual Stripper,” was held in October that year and co-hosted by a local burlesque dancer.

In a post made to his Facebook last month, Kingsley boasts of undergoing a mammogram as a “rite of passage” at Regional Medical Imaging Center in Royal Oak. Kingsley describes how a female nurse “deftly maneuvered my right 50DD breast into the imaging clamp” before the “robot squeezed my masses, these glorious udders of breast tissue.” He brags about enjoying the experience and “fly-fishing for validation” from the nurse after she “finished imaging both my breasts.”
“Some of us are gifted by spirit, specifically us transgender people, with rare talents and abilities, perceptions and discernments, visions and dreams, that more than 95% of folk do NOT have so they mock us, exile us, and kill us with their apathy,” Kingsley wrote in April.
“Transgender people are more than just the butt of the jokes you make, the ones you let slide unopposed; we are an increasingly endangered species broaching the brink of extinction, hunted for sport in front of your very eyes,” he added.
Other social media posts by Kingsley indicate that an altercation had occurred between him and members of LGBT Detroit. In one post that was shared by Kingsley on his TikTok account, a man who appears to be affiliated with the group accuses Kingsley of vandalizing property belonging to the organization. In a video created by Kingsley for TikTok, he claims to have prevented the trans activist group from receiving a $30,000 grant offered by the Human Rights Campaign.
Kingsley was previously arrested in 2019 for threatening a trans-identifying male roommate with a knife at their residence on Christmas day. Local outlet Royal Oak Tribune refers to Kingsley as a “woman” who brandished a 6-inch blade during the dispute.
“In the kitchen, Kingsley grabbed a knife with a 6-inch blade and told the victim to leave the house,” a police officer told the press. “When the victim didn’t immediately comply, the suspect held the knife above her head in a threatening manner.”
Kingsley was held in the Oakland County Jail under his male name and in the men’s section, separated from other inmates. He was charged with felony assault, which is punishable by up to four years in prison and a $2,000 fine. He pleaded guilty to misdemeanor assault in October 2020 and was sentenced to two months in jail.
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Rocking the Storm: Reynald n'trio Unleashes 'Pin'up' In the tempestuous crucible of rock and blues, Reynald n'trio have birthed “Pin’up,” a maelstrom of fervid riffs and impassioned poetics that flirts with chaos yet curtsies at the altar of harmony. Here is music as wild as a storm-lashed sea, swaying with self-deprecating humor in studded leather boots, its soul bared beneath moonlit confessions. https://open.spotify.com/track/7jSYqYR855KzmPsN7zXm7F?si=2bb1c12e84524f28 “Pin’up” throbs with Reynald Chivot’s heartstrings plucked in French eloquence—a lingual choice steeping each verse in velvety terroir, rich as Bordeaux spilled on a poet's grave. The song crackles like antique vinyl; nostalgia wraps around your senses, a soft shroud folding then falling away to reveal sharp edges—modern love dissected under the glare of stage lights. [caption id="attachment_55550" align="alignnone" width="1024"] Rocking the Storm: Reynald n'trio Unleashes 'Pin'up'[/caption] And oh! The exploration starts innocently as dawn over jazz-smoked cobblestones but rapidly rollicks into ecstatic frenzy. It dances—you cannot help but be swept onto this dance floor made from shattered constraints—it demands an ear bent to catch every electric note spiraling towards euphoria or perhaps punctuating ennui. Delightfully unpretentious despite its philosophical jamboree through love's kaleidoscope while romping hand-in-hand with high-energy execution—this debut single carves out beats and beliefs into stone tablets for modern times. A cunning confluence of spontaneity and structure where simplicity meets sizzle; it pulls at seams who dare say raw must stay tame! https://youtu.be/AsJ_M9ofO_g Reynald n'trio leers from their cheek-stained canvas within "Pin'up," splattered boldly across our audial landscapes: not just musicians—but minstrels recounting rebellions both external in melody and internal through satire-tuned insight—all wrapped up neatly within layers you'll ache to unfurl again.
#Music#Pinup#PinupalbumbyReynaldntrio#PinupbyReynaldntrio#PinupfromReynaldntrio#PinupReynaldntrio#Reynaldntrio#Reynaldntriodiscography#ReynaldntriodropsPinup#Reynaldntriomusic#Reynaldntriomusicalartist#Reynaldntriomusicalband#Reynaldntrionewsingle#ReynaldntriooutwithPinup#ReynaldntrioPinup#Reynaldntrioprofile#ReynaldntrioreleasesPinup#ReynaldntrioshareslatestsinglePinup#Reynaldntriosinger#Reynaldntriosongs#ReynaldntriounveilsnewmusictitledPinup#Reynaldntriovideos#ReynaldntriowithPinup#RockingtheStormReynaldntrioUnleashesPinup
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Hands touch, eyes meet, sudden silence, sudden heat, hearts leap in a giddy whirl
(Roberta Valentini as Elphaba & Mark Seibert as Fiyero)
#musicalgifs#theatresourced#wickededit#fiyeraba#mark seibert#roberta valentini#musicaltheatreedit#wicked die hexen von oz#elphaba thropp#fiyero tigelaar#wicked#elphaba x fiyero#mine#myedits#musicaledit#theyre so adorable#when they almost bump into each other and he sticks her arm out and she sort of curtsy's#adorable#also have a version of this with the german captions i might post
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#caption#original caption#celeb caption#victoria justice caption#instruction caption#feminization caption#curtsy caption#training caption
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this came to me in a vision yesterday and it needed to be shared, thoughts on the birds as classic christmas toys
taako- jack in the box (taako in the box)
magnus- toy solider
merle- gingerbread man (gingerbread merle) (i know it’s not a toy but i liked this concept)
barry- teddy bear (teddy barry)
lup- ballerina wind up doll
davenport- nutcracker
lucretia- raggedy ann (i feel like there’s a better one but i can’t think of it now)
Oh! I love these! Especially taako in a box :0 and teddy barry! I may loop around to this concept when I have more time to doodle, but this ask did reminded me that I forgot to post the drawings i did a while back from Nutcracker AU. Further image descriptions and close ups are under the read more.
ID: First image is assortment of drawings of Lup, Barry, Taako, and Lucretia as characters in the Nutcracker Ballet. Lup is a young elven woman with tan skin, freckles, clurly, blonde hair and a slight build. She is wearing a formal purple and pink dress. Her brother, Taako, shares similar features, save his hair being tied in a lond braid. He is wearing a green vest over a burgundy cravat, white blouse, and brown slacks. End ID.








ID: Second image is of Lup curiously studying at a small, wooden nutcracker in her hands. The nutcracker's uniform is bright red, blue, and gold. Taako peers at it from over her shoulder. Third image is of Barry (the nutcracker), now lifesized. He has short, brown hair, pale skin, and a chubby build. Lup walks around him curiously, maveling at him. Fourth image is of Barry bowing and flourishing his hat at Lup, while she curtsies back. Fifth image is of Lucretia, a human woman with brown skin, silver hair, and a slight build. She is dressed like a snow fairy, with a blue and white tutu and fringe, that looks a lot like a snowflake. Sixth image is of Lup, dressed as the sugar plum fairy. She is wearing a purple and pink tutu with lots of lace and bows, as well as a decorative, pink, tiara. Seventh image is a doodle of barry, with caption and arrows indicating that his arm moves up and down to crack the nuts with his mouth. Eight image is of Lup and Lucretia conversing while dressed as fairies. Ninth image is a rough sketch of Lup and Taako's outfits. End ID
#:0 maybe i will loop back around to this#askherbgerb#taz au#nutcracker au#my art#herbgerbart#taako#lup#barry bluejeans#lucretia#taz balance
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March 28, 1922 Our Boarding House by Gene Ahern
Caption: Alvin didn't get all the party out of his system. [ID: Alvin marches in circles around the sitting room, blowing into a noisemaker horn. He has a tall party hat with a frilly pompom at the top on his head. Next to him, three boarders (from left to right, Clyde, Buster and Mack) stand at the foot of the staircase. Clyde holds his hands to his ears. Mrs. Hoople and Miss Church watch Alvin proudly from a nearby doorway. /end] Mrs. Hoople: Alvin was over to Mildred Pack's birthday party this afternoon and he had such a good time. I think I'll have him take dancing lessons soon. Miss Church: Oh, that will be sweet. He'll learn the minuet, I'm sure. We girls had to curtsy, and it was so nice. Alvin: ♪ BLOY BLOY BLOY ♪ Clyde: Let's pull freight and clear this pow. That kid has pushed enough wind through 'at horn to blow out an electric light. Buster: My head feels like th' inside of a rusty clock full of sand from that squawkin'. Let's go down an' argue a few games of pool!
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Any song can be appealing if interpreted in a specific way. :)
(I'm VERY tempted to look up 'Toot Toot, Chugga Chugga, Big Red Car'....and listen to it)
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I've had my fair share of listening to 'The Wiggles' while babysitting. It wasn't bad...
...but if I had a choice...I definitely would have appreciated the option of this kind of cover!
(Though I'm guessing there's a reason kids like the version specifically written for them....)
PS: No idea which episode this is! You'll have to help me...I'm not even sure it's still up on Ten Play.
PPS: Love the tidbit about yelling 'Wake Up Jeff' at 2 in the morning. Though I understand Jeff Fatt's neighbours wouldn't be laughing if they usually are asleep between 10 PM and 6 AM. :/
PPPS: Transferring all these notables from the DVR has been quite an experience as captions are being done in different colours! So I'm able to catch who is speaking even before they are flashed on screen (or I hear them!). I think it was in one of the 'Have You Been Paying Attention' episode...since the camera wasn't zooming in on the other contestants (plus it didn't help that it was 'spotlight time')...I had no idea who the green captions belonged to. So...I had to go back and find who was linked to green.
Really liking it! Good job caption people! :)))))
(Because usually it'll just be that one colour ---- actually...sometimes when it's one colour....they do say who's speaking....But I think I quite like things colour coded!)
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HIGHLIGHT:
Dave: Rachel, welcome to the show. What is your problem?
Rachel: Yeah, So my question is: How do you stop yourself from acting like a dickhead in front of really famous people like Naomi Watts?
Becky: It's funny 'cause you seem pretty like, calm talking to us.
[Rachel plays along and smiles]
Rachel: Uh...yeah.
Becky: You know, so many celebrities get cancelled. So, what you've got to think about is this person who you might be getting nervous in front of...Like, I used to get nervous in front of Hughesy and then I just used to think: "Oh, he'll probably be cancelled one day and he'll need be to be his friends."
[Becky laughs uncomfortably. Dave turns back to the screen. Rachel in the meantime is cracking up.]
Becky: You know? So think about the time and the future when they need you.
Dave: Can we just drill down on that for a second?
[Dave gives us a look.]
Dave: Before the show, what did I say to you, Becky? What have you got to tell your friends in your forums?
[Understanding in Becky's eyes]
Becky: That you're cool.
[Dave bursts out laughing along with the audience.]
Dave: Back to you, Rachel. I know that, like, 'Penguin Bloom' was a great film and it's done really well. Did you have a problem with Naomi Watts on set? There was an incident that you got embarrassed about?
Rachel: Yes. Basically, the first time I met her, I called her 'Queen Naomi' and I curtsied.
[Scattered laughter from the audience.]
Kate: Alright, here's the question. When you were making a...
[Kate attempts to sound Kiwi]
Kate: ...a duck of yourself...
[The audience reacts]
Dave: Hang on, that's just Kate Langbroek doing her accent, by the way...
Kate: I'm paying homage. I'm paying homage to Queen Rachel.
[Kate does the 'Namaste Bow']
Dave: How do you feel about Australians doing Kiwi accents, by the way, Rachel? How do you feel about that?
Rachel: How do you feel about us doing you guys?
[Laughter from Dave and the audience]
Dave: I'm quite honoured, to be honest. Alright, So...
Nath: Can I just say: I think you go the opposite. What you need to do when you meet a superstar....is, yeah, go ------- crazy, grovel, be obsessed with them. When I met my queen, Kylie Minogue...
Dave: We've got a photo of you. We've got a photo of Nath Valvo...
[A photo of Nath and Kylie is up on the screen. Both of them smiling. Nath pointing at Kylie's signature on his left forarm.
Nath: ...is I made her sign my arm with a Texta...and then I went and got it tattooed over. And she did...
[Nath shows us the tattoo]
Nath: I mean she was freaked out a little bit and she seemed quite uncomfortable.
[Laughter from the audience]
Becky: Yeah. Get 'Naomi' tattooed on your forehead.
Rachel: I think I'm going to do that. Yeah.
Dave: I have to admit, I know what Rachel's talking about. I met Brad Pitt once and that was the most nervous I've ever been in my life. And I know Eric Bana. So I thought: "Here's the way to connect with Brad Pitt." And I said to Brad Pitt: "Hi Brad. I know Eric Banana."
[Laughter from the panelists and the audience.]
Dave: He looked at me like: "Man, I don't know what you're talking about." So...yeah.
[Rachel adjusts her glasses as her laughter subsides. It was a good anecdote!]
Dave: Who's the most nervous you've ever been in front of, do you reckon, Rachel? I mean you've met some big names.
[Rachel considers this.]
Dave: Anyone in particular who really freaked you out?
[Rachel takes a second.]
Rachel: The only other person that I really acted like a dick in front of was Cate Blanchett. I just yelled at her. I said..
[speaks loudly]
Rachel: "You're fantastic!"
[Laughter from the audience and Rachel just shakes her head and shrugs...still in disbelief why she did it in the first place.]
Rachel: And I think we were in an elevator at the time, so you can imagine.
Dave: Look, the fact is...
Kate: Everybody loves to be loved.
Dave: Yes.
[Kate nods.]
Dave: The fact is, Rachel House is a superstar.
[Rachel reacts to that.]
Dave: And she's going to continue to be a superstar and continue to meet really, really famous people. And she's going to continue to be herself. And I think...
Kate: And one day, people will start yelling at you, Rach.
[Kate does it even louder than Rachel.]
Kate: You're fantastic!!!!
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#TV#Hughesy We Have A Problemm#The Wiggles#Toot Toot Chugga Chugga Big Red Car#Murray Cook#Red Wiggle#The Soul Movers#Soul Rock#Lizzie Mack#Cover Versions#Rachel House#Dave Hughes#Magda Szubanski#Vyom Sharma#Becky Lucas#Nazeem Hussain#Kate Langbroek#Nath Valvo#Brad Pitt#Eric Bana
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Game Changer
Chapter Eight: Christmas with the In-Laws
Word Count: 3930
Warnings: The fluffiest of fluff, and probably language
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My mind is still foggy, but the feeling of feather light kisses pressing into my shoulder causes a small, breathy chuckle to leave my lips. I feel Leon’s hand squeeze my arm gently, the other tugging me closer into his chest so he can hug me closer. I let out a small hum, moving to wrap my arms around one of his to hug, “Good morning,” I whisper.
He chuckles from behind me, squeezing me closer to him. “Happy Christmas, my love.” He sighs, my body starting to relax again and send me back into dreamland. “Don’t look now,” I feel Leon press his lips to my ear, “but Hop is going to come running in here in three… two…one-.”
The door slams open, causing me to jump in Leon’s arms. Hop’s feet pad across the floor and jumps onto the already too small bed. “Guys, get up, it’s Christmas!”
I roll so that I am laying on my back before hugging him. “Merry Christmas, Hop.” I chuckle and eye Leon. He smiles back and as I tighten my grip on Hop, Lee pinches and tickles his sides. Hop struggles, laughing loudly before I release him and he rolls off the bed.
“Not cool!” He calls as he runs out of the room.
I sigh and cuddle into Leon a little more, running my fingers through the few strands of hair that had fallen down his chest. I finally let out a soft sigh, “We should get up.”
Lee kisses my forehead, tugging me closer to him before loosening his grip on me. He smiles widely at me. “We have to get dressed into those matching pjs we bought.”
“Fuck yeah.” I whisper, pushing him onto his back so I can throw the covers off and crawl overtop of him. Leon laughs loudly as my foot gets stuck in the sheets, causing me to tumble to the floor. I look over at him and giggle with him while he detangles my foot before I rush to the door to shut and lock it. “No need for Hopscotch to stumble in while we are changing-”
“Yeah, we don’t need that,” Leon chuckles as he sits up in bed, stretching his arms over his head.
I grab our onesies, tossing Leon his before spinning around to pull my shirt and shorts off to change into the onsie. I spin around after zipping it up. I look at Leon dressed in his Charizard onsie, hair causing the hood to puff out. “You look adorable,” I giggle, walking over to him.
He smiles, hands moving past my face to grab the charcoal gray hood and pull it onto my head. “These charizard onesies do look good, but I think I should have got the shiny one.”
I shake my head before pushing off the hood, “But you wanted to make your girlfriend happy, so I got it.”
He smiles and chuckles, pressing a kiss to my nose before spinning me around toward the door. “Let’s head downstairs-”
“I have to brush my hair first,” I whisper, walking toward the door and out of the room to the upstairs bathroom. Once I had finished, and Lee had done the same, we made our way downstairs where Hop and Michelle were waiting.
“C'mon! We have to make and eat breakfast and then we can open presents!” Hop yells excitedly.
The morning is filled with laughter and lots of food. Eggs, pancakes in the shapes of different Pokemon, fruits, hashbrowns, and more.
My eyes wander over to Leon, who is leaning against the counter talking to his mom about something. Hop wraps his arms around my middle and squeezes me, making me laugh and hug him back, “Hey, little man. You excited to see what you got?”
“Always,” he chuckles. “But I am more interested to see what everyone else got. It’s a big deal, you know.” He teases, swaying us from side to side before he takes a step back and offers me a hand while in a deep bow. I give him a big curtsy before taking his hand as we dance not-so-gracefully about the kitchen to the cheery Christmas music playing in the background. Leon eventually comes and steals me from him, spinning us around the room until we are both too dizzy to dance any further. Leon has to hold me up while I regain my feet.
“Alright you three, let’s settle down to eat.” Their mom states, pushing us in the direction of the table. Leon gives me a cheesy grin and I can’t help but grin back. It was a day for celebration.
After eating, the four of us settle in the living room. Gifts slowly getting passed to everyone. I smile as Leon playfully throws the wrapping paper across the room to Hop and he rips into a gift from his mother. Hop laughs loudly as he swats the paper out of the air, his Wooloo bumping the paper around on the floor. As the last of the gifts are being passed around, the more nervous I get about them liking what I got them all.
For Leon’s mother, I had gotten fabric and made a tie blanket; it’s a go-to for people I didn’t know what to do gifts for, as well as a pair of warm gloves in black. She smiles brightly at me as she pulls the plush blanket from the paper, “Darling this is beautiful! Thank you!”
I smile widely as I take her gift into my lap and pull the ribbon off. Inside the decorative box is a pair of Wooloo wool gloves and a Wooloo wool hat that are dyed black. “I love them,” I state, getting up from my seat beside Leon to pull her into a tight hug.
“I’m so glad you do, I know how cold it can get in the winter.” She presses a quick kiss to my cheek before we pull away.
“Open mine next, (Y/N)!” Hop yells, he has stood up from his seat on the floor to grab a bag and the wrapped box with his name scribbled on it.
“But you have to open mine first,” I laugh as he hands me the bag and I settle next to Leon on the loveseat.
He nods and pops the top wrapped package off the wrapped box. He makes sure to be careful and not spoil the larger gift underneath. His eyes light up as he pulls out the plushest forest green scarf. He gasps as he wraps it around his neck, “It’s so SOFT!” He smiles widely before tearing into the box, his eyes going wide. He is basically yelling out of excitement now, “WE NEVER GET LEGOS AND NOW I HAVE Pokemon LEGOS!” Hop leaps from his seat, leaving the box on the floor, and throws his arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
I giggle, hugging him back, “You’re welcome, Hop. I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it, both of them!” He settles on the other side of me on the arm of the loveseat, “Now open mine.”
I laugh, grabbing the bag from off the floor and carefully peel the tape away from the opening. I open the bag and pull the tissue paper way. “Oh my, Hop you didn’t-”
“I knew they would come in handy.”
I laugh as I pull out five pokeballs, five minor potions and revives, a belt, and at the bottom I find a wristband that I can immediately see has a wishing piece inside.
“Sonia helped,” he admits.
I pull the boy into a tight hug, giggling when I hear one of the pokeballs fall to the floor with a thud. “Thank you, Hop. I love them.” I press a quick kiss to his cheek before he jumps up and settles on the couch with his mother.
Now, last but not least, it was time to exchange gifts with Leon. I can see the nervousness on his face as he sets the box for me in my hands.
“I want you to open mine first,” I tease, which normally he would fight about but he doesn’t.
Instead, he bites his lip and slowly tears the paper off. He pops open the lid and looks inside before I notice the way his eyebrows pull together. He pulls out the first thing, a new hat. It had a similar crown design on the underside of the lip, but on the inside of the black canvas I had written a short message.
To my one and only Champion,
May you think of me whenever you wear this, for I am always thinking of you. I wish you nothing but fun times, happiness, and all my love.
Your love, (Y/N) <3</i>
Leon’s lip wobbles, but he doesn’t put it on his head, he instead sets it aside before glancing at me, “I really hope you have one that matches.”
“I do, it has a tiara on it in lavender.” I state, motioning as if I were going to place a hat on my head.
He smiles as he pulls out the next thing, and his breath hitches. It’s a scrapbook filled with pictures of us and stories from the past four years. As he flips through the pages I bite my lip, most are of the two of us, but some include my family and friends from long nights of sitting on the boat and Thanksgiving. I watch as he gets to a page meant for a picture from today, the date printed up on the top with a caption, ‘Many more holidays and celebrations to come!’ He sniffles, which prompts me to turn his face toward mine.
“Hey, you okay?” I wipe a tear from his eyes.
He nods, leaning forward to kiss me gently. “Always as long as I am with you.” He takes a minute to compose himself before he motions toward his gift in my lap. “As much as I love these, I would like to see how you react to what I got you.”
I giggle, taking the box off the floor and pulling it into my lap. “Well, I already got one of your gifts to me-”
“What else did he give you?” His mom asks, only then do I notice my Rotom floating near Hop’s head.
“He got me a Wooloo wool shawl.” I rest my arm over the box for a second, pointing at my floating phone, “Hop can you see what my Rotom is doing?”
Hop glances up, but doesn’t grab it from the air, “Just recording.”
I raise an eyebrow but Lee cuts in, “I asked it to record, wanted to see your reaction.”
“Oh God, should I be scared?” I tease making Leon laugh. I carefully unwrap the bow, now seeing that the wrapping isn’t going to be in the way. Once I lift the lid I let out a laugh seeing three pokeballs nestled into the tissue paper. “Lee, you did not-”
Leon chuckles beside me, motioning me to just continue opening the gift.
I pull the first one out and my heart tightening at the name printed on the ball, “Scorch?” I glance at Lee but he just motions me to the next one. I set down the first ball and pick up the second, it also has a name written on it, “Daisy? Lee, did you get the Pokemon that are some of my favorite team members from the game?” I whisper, but Leon is still prompting me to continue. I set the second one back down and lifted the last ball.
This one was blank. I turn and look at him but he only smiles so I toss the pokeball up, prompting the creature inside to come out. I gasp at the Applin landing in my hands, Leon had snatched the ball before I could so I was able to catch it with ease. However, instead of the normal red color, it is a vibrant green. “Leon,” I breathe, bringing the little creature closer and hugging it gently. “It’s green, Leon its a shiny Applin.” I whisper, looking at him in awe, the Applin nuzzles into my chest. I look at Lee with bright eyes, smiling at him “Isn’t there a saying that if you fancy someone and you give them an Applin it means you will be together forever?” The Applin makes a small noise, causing me to turn my attention back to the creature cuddling into my chest.
“It is,” I hear Leon shift until he gets off the couch, “But I also heard that in Greece, if you throw a girl an apple its a marriage proposal.”
My head snaps up to find Leon on one knee, a ring in hand. A small gasp leaves my lips as I look at him, tears already forming in my eyes as my arms fall slack and Applin lands in my lap.
“(Y/N), I have known since the day I met you, that I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. You are compassionate, loyal, kind, and sweeter than any Pokemon I have ever encountered. You make me a better person everyday, and I miss you everyday that I am away from you. You push me to be better, for my family, for the people who look up to me, and for myself. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up to you, making you laugh, and watching you succeed. I want to have little you’s and me’s running around and help them be the best people they can be!” Leon hiccups, as tears even fall down his face, “I want you, every bit of you, for the rest of my life. So, will you make me the happiest man in the world, and- and marry me, (Y/N)?”
I nod as tears fall down my face, and continue to nod before a choked “Yes” falls past my lips and Leon sighs loudly before reaching and grabbing my face to kiss me. When we pull away a laugh leaves my lips, “Yes, yes, yes, if I knew any other languages, all of them yes!” I whisper, cupping his cheeks in my hands. Applin bounces in my lap, trying to pull my attention back to it. I move one of my hands to it and caress it. “God, how long have you been planning this?”
His cheeks turn a dark shade of red, “Uh, this summer? I was going to do it after the final battle but that didn’t work.” He lets out a small laugh, cupping my cheek and wiping my tears away. “And it was going to be a different Applin, the lady called me two weeks ago and said that they had produced a shiny one after I had given a kid the one I was planning on giving to you to give to his sweetheart,” he shakes his head as he wipes his own tears softly, “and I’m a mess.”
“My favorite mess,” I giggle.
“Can I hug my new sister yet?” Hop cuts in, his mom shushing him. I laugh, Leon moving out of the way so I can stand and hug his brother and mom.
“Let us see the ring, Leon has been keeping it a secret for months.” His mom teases, and now I realize he hasn’t even placed it on my hand yet. We all laugh as Leon looks panicked, fumbling to pick the ring up from the floor before getting off the floor and sliding the ring onto my ring finger. We can all finally look at it.
It’s not something I would expect from Leon. Instead of just a simple diamond ring, the main stone is an oval alexandrite moonstone with a small diamond on either side of it set in a rose gold band. It’s beyond what I ever thought he would use for an engagement ring. “Did you search my Pinterest board or something?”
Leon laughs, “I asked Ginny for some help, she showed me the etsy artist you like so much. It had to be perfect for you.” He teases, kissing my temple.
Hop grabs my phone, smiling. “And Rotom got the whole thing on video; even of Leon opening his gift from you, (Y/N/N)!”
I smile as I motion for the floating device, she floats over and shows the video, and I can’t help but smile. “I’m going to have to send this to myself so I can show people back at home. Although, I will bend the story and say you just got me an apple and a bunch of ornaments for a future tree.”
“That is something I would do,” Lee chuckles. “But now I want to take you and your new Pokemon outside so you can be fully acquainted.”
I squeal as I grab the box and pull the other two pokeballs out of the box, only to be stopped by his mom.
“Wait, you all need to change first, but I want a picture of you three in your pajamas.”
We laugh, Lee and I pulling Hop in between us to take the picture. After a few pictures were taken, Hop races up the stairs while Lee and I retreat into his room to change. Lee has a huge smile on his face while I change, dressing into a pair of jeans, thick socks, a sweater, and a vest to go overtop. Lee throws on a thick sweater and jeans since he was already wearing socks. We clamber downstairs and Lee, Hop, and I as well as Ivy and the little Applin head outside.
“Who are you going to set out first?” Hop asks, jumping up and down.
I reach into the vests pocket and discover that I am holding Scorch’s pokeball. I smile as I shift the little Applin onto my shoulder and toss the pokeball into the air. “C'mon out, Scorch!” I call out as the little, level five Scorbunny hops out. He immediately hops up and down due to him standing in snow so I open my arms for him to jump into. Scorch chirps at me, huddling himself closer to me as I hug him gently, swaying us back and forth causing Applin to coo back at me before jumping into Hop’s hands. “Look at my little boy!” I coo, Leon chuckling behind me.
“He just wants to battle and make whoever is training him proud.” Leon jokes, making me smile.
“That sounds like my boy, always kickin’!” I tease, making him throw his hands up in excitement. He moves to sit on my shoulder grabbing a paw full of hair to keep from falling off. I smile as my Rotom buzzes around and takes pictures as it goes. I reach inside the opposite pocket and produce the last pokeball, my thumb running over the painted name. “Alright, we got one more left. C'mon out, little Daisy love.” I toss the ball forward and Toxal pops out. She stands immediately from the cold, little sparks emitting from her as she pouts and has a minor tantrum. I lean down, careful to not jostle the bunny on my shoulder, and scoop her up, setting her on my hip. “Too cold for baby, huh?” I tease, her eyes falling on me easily. She grabs a fist full of my vest, tugging it gently.
“I know her nature will make her a low-key Toxtricity,” Leon states, walking over so he can look at Daisy. “I was trying to make sure everything was as close as possible.”
“They are perfect, Lee. Don’t even worry about it, okay?” I mutter, looking up at him with bright eyes. I motion for Hop so I can grab Applin and place her on my head. I let out a small whistle, notifying Rotom to zip over, I giggle as I feel Leon and Hop stand on either side of me, Ivy sitting on my feet as Rotom takes a few pictures. I smile at the results, sighing softly at how homely the whole thing feels, and a bit more of excitement build inside my chest.
“Are you happy love?” Lee pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to see his bright smile.
“Absolutely, but now we have something else to do.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, “What?”
I smile widely, carefully letting Applin hop to his shoulder as I lean up and press a kiss to his lips before whispering, “We have to tell my family."
Once the Pokemon were placed back in their balls and settled for the afternoon, I texted my mom to video call me with the whole family. She stated it would be about twenty minutes, which gave me time to talk to Leon about how he proposed. We decided that we weren’t going to show them the video until we had told them about Pokemon; instead, we would tell them the other planned story.
When the skype notification pops up, I grab Lee’s hand before accepting the call.
My family’s faces fill the screen, Aiden seated in the middle.
”(Y/N)-“
"How are you-”
“Merry Christmas!”
I laugh, Leon chuckling softly, “Hello! We are good, and Merry Christmas to you too! How is everyone?”
Lee and I listen to my family talk about their morning, and since my family had celebrated before I left, they had taken the time to just relax and watch movies.
“How has your Christmas been? What was something that was really memorable?” My mom cuts in, smiling widely. Oh, so she knew?
“Well, (Y/N)’s gift was amazing.” Leon gushes, giving my thigh a firm squeeze. “I loved the scrapbook. She actually made me cry.” Lee admits making me smile as I lean over and kiss him gently.
“Leon got me an apple.” I tease, making Leon laugh as I brush my nose against his.
My brother’s mouth falls open, “Dude, that’s not a gift!”
Leon laughs, “Hold on little man, there is more to the story.” Leon shifts next to me, “So here in Galar if you give someone you really like an apple it’s your way of confessing your love-”
“You did that already,” Aiden whines, making Leon laugh.
My folks are laughing too, My mom nudges Aiden’s shoulder, “Let them finish, bug.”
Leon shakes his head and chuckles, “I did confess, but it also means that you want to be with them forever.”
“Lee also told me that there is a tradition in Greece involving apples,” I add giving his hand a quick squeeze before continuing “In Greece if you throw a girl an apple,” I lift my hand into view, “It’s a marriage proposal”
The room falls silent, their faces shocked. It isn’t until Aiden yells out “Oh my God!” That the room fills with cheers. “He didn’t!”
“Baby!”
“(Y/N), Lee I am so happy for you. We are so happy for you both.” My dad smiles, giving my mom’s shoulder a squeeze as she dabs her eyes. “Leon I hope you know that we have always seen you as a part of the family but now we can officially say that you are.”
Aiden throws his arms into the air, “I have an actual brother!”
“You technically have two since Lee has his little brother, who is your age, Aid.”
He smiles, “I’m so excited.”
Leon and I look at each other, honestly we were excited too. For us to train my Pokemon, for the upcoming summer, and our future.
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A/N: Shhhhhh ik Christmas was forever ago, I was writing this about that time, its fiiiiiiiiiine. Hope you all enjoyed!
Masterlist
#cg writes#champion leon#champion leon x fem!reader#champion leon fluff#pokemon swsh#pokemon sword and shield#dandeleon#dande#pokemon leon#pokemon shield leon#pokemon sword leon
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Happy Shakespeare Day!
We don’t actually know when William Shakespeare was born -- We know, thanks to Church records that he was Baptized on the 26th of April (when he was a few days old, probably), and that he died on the 23rd of April. And our fondness for everything turning out even prompts us to celebrate his Birthday on this day, too.
So have some of my favorite Shakespeare things:
Ben Crystal’s TEDx Talk at Bergen, Norway (2017) Auto-generated captions:
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Sonnet 44 (Text on screen):
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The “Kill Claudio” scene from Much Ado about Nothing (auto-generated captions):
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This is the scene that is the turning point of the play, when Benedick, who’s been scornful of romantic love, and even flippant and nonchalant with platonic friendship, finally commits his loyalty to someone.
Full lines from Shakespeare’s script (Act 4, scene 1: lines 269-350) below the cut (a few lines were cut from the filmed scene):
BENEDICK Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while? BEATRICE Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
BENEDICK I will not desire that.
BEATRICE You have no reason. I do it freely.
BENEDICK Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.
BEATRICE Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!
BENEDICK Is there any way to show such friendship?
BEATRICE A very even way, but no such friend.
BENEDICK May a man do it?
BEATRICE It is a man’s office, but not yours.
BENEDICK I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?
BEATRICE As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you, but believe me not, and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
BENEDICK By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me!
BEATRICE Do not swear and eat it.
BENEDICK I will swear by it that you love me, and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.
BEATRICE Will you not eat your word?
BENEDICK With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.
BEATRICE Why then, God forgive me.
BENEDICK What offense, sweet Beatrice?
BEATRICE You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest I loved you.
BENEDICK And do it with all thy heart.
BEATRICE I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
BENEDICK Come, bid me do anything for thee.
BEATRICE Kill Claudio.
BENEDICK Ha! Not for the wide world.
BEATRICE You kill me to deny it. Farewell. [She begins to exit.]
BENEDICK Tarry, sweet Beatrice.
BEATRICE I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you. Nay, I pray you let me go.
BENEDICK Beatrice—
BEATRICE In faith, I will go.
BENEDICK We’ll be friends first.
BEATRICE You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.
BENEDICK Is Claudio thine enemy?
BEATRICE Is he not approved in the height a villain that hath slandered, scorned, dishonored my kinswoman? O, that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they come to take hands, and then, with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancor—O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the marketplace.
BENEDICK Hear me, Beatrice—
BEATRICE Talk with a man out at a window! A proper saying.
BENEDICK Nay, but Beatrice—
BEATRICE Sweet Hero, she is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.
BENEDICK Beat—
BEATRICE Princes and counties! Surely a princely testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfect, a sweet gallant, surely! O, that I were a man for his sake! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into curtsies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too. He is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man with wishing; therefore I will die a woman with grieving.
BENEDICK Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.
BEATRICE Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.
BENEDICK Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?
BEATRICE Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.
BENEDICK Enough, I am engaged. I will challenge him. I will kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand, Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you hear of me, so think of me. Go comfort your cousin. I must say she is dead, and so farewell.
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a week at aunt olivia and uncle leo’s [part two]

Part One here!
This will be more than a one shot or two shot. I’m loving writing this. Expect more!
@jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @moonlightgem7 @emceesynonymroll @pug-bitch @burnsoslow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @pedudley @notoriouscs @dcbbw @emichelle @star-spangled-eyes @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @be-still-my-aching-heart @carabeth
Day 4
Lily devoured her bowl of Unicorn Wishes cereal. She had gotten up early specially so she could see Olivia before her kickboxing class and to ask her something important. Leo was sat beside her, also eating Unicorn Wishes. He was obsessed since being introduced to it when Lily arrived.
'Aunt Olivia...' she began in a hesitant voice.
Olivia looked up from cutting a banana to go in her smoothie. 'Yeah babe?'
Lily turned red. 'Can I have a play date after school?'
'Sure. Who?'
Lily looked down at her cereal and replied very, very quietly. Leo leaned close to her and said with humour, 'Lily? We're really old, we can't hear very well.'
Lily swallowed. 'Milo.'
Olivia's mouth dropped open. 'You mean the boy we spoke about at bath time?!'
Lily sank down in her chair. 'Yes..'
'Is Milo a boyfriend?' Leo asked, nudging her. 'Does he treat you right? Does he give you presents?'
Lily turned to him, her face lighting up. 'He gave me a LEAF!'
*************************************************
Olivia didn't know the rules for playdates so she decided to ring Drake and Camille.
The phone picked up but it took a while for one of them to answer. Instead, Olivia was subjected to what could only be a lovers quarrel.
'I can't get out of the clingfilm!' Camille hissed. 'Help me!'
The phone jostled. 'This fucking Vaseline..' Drake growled. Olivia heard clingfilm tearing and Drake groaning, 'Fucks sake, it's all over my hands!'
Eventually.. 'Olivia, hi!'
Camille was bright and cheery. Olivia snorted. 'Having fun?'
'What kind of sex hell did you get this move from?' Camille hissed. 'I swear I don't do nearly enough yoga to help!'
'That's what the vaseline is for, it helps.. movement,' Olivia explained. Leo chuckled, listening.
'Okay, what's up?' Camille asked.
'Lily has asked if she can have a play date.'
'Aww! Who with?'
Olivia sighed. 'Milo.'
'Milo? Milo... Oh the cute little guy with the long hair?! She wants to play with Milo? Adorable -'
The phone jostled again and Olivia was greeted by a pissed off Drake.
'Who the fuck is Milo?'
Olivia sniggered. 'Your daughters boyfriend.' She knew how protective Drake was of Lily and wished she could see his face right now.
There was a silence from Drake. Camille, on the other hand, was telling him to breathe.
Finally, he spoke.
'Nope. No boys until she's 21.'
Olivia rolled her eyes. 'He's four.'
'He's a boy.'
'He's four.'
'Still a boy, still a dick.'
Olivia laughed. 'Drake come on. He's a friend. Isn't it nice she has friends?'
'Sure, but not if they're boys!'
'Drake you're being ridiculous,' Olivia said. 'They're just going to play in the garden, watch TV and scream like banshees.'
Drake sighed. 'I just didn't expect this to happen so soon..'
'He gave her a leaf,' Olivia said, smirking.
'He gave her a fucking what now?'
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Camille managed to convince Drake that a playdate would be fine. He had just managed to calm down when Olivia realised that she had made plans for that evening. Book Club. Fucking Book Club.
'Okay no way, playdate is not happening!' Drake protested.
'Leo will be here, he can look after them!' Olivia said.
'Oh sure, Leo. The former manwhore looking after a four year old manwhore in training, great situation-'
'Is he bitching about me?' Leo asked his mouth full of Unicorn Wishes. 'Heh. Love you Drake!' he called.
Olivia held back laughter. 'Drake, Leo is so good with Lily. He can handle one other child.'
Leo fist bumped the air. 'Damn straight I can!'
Drake sighed. 'Fine. But any issues, call us. Anything at all, call us-’
'Bye, love ya!' Olivia said loudly, hanging up. She looked at Lily who was watching, her breath held.
'Milo can come over!' Olivia told her. 'Better get all dressed up!'
'I need to find him a leaf!' Lily shrieked, jumping down. 'Uncle Leo, help me find a leaf!'
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Leo helped Lily pick a leaf that was a burnt orange colour and bigger than her hand. As he drove her to playgroup, she held the leaf in her hand like it was precious cargo.
She was wearing a yellow dress embroidered with daisies over a stripy red and white jumper and sparkly pink wellington boots. It wasn’t even raining; she just decided she really wanted to wear her sparkly wellington boots. Leo had let her pick her outfit herself and has taken a photo to send to Drake captioned, ‘Ya girl’s all dressed up for her boyfriendddd.’
Drake texted back saying ‘fuck you.’
Leo dropped her off at playgroup and smiled at all the moms who were checking him out. He was so different to their husbands; for one thing, he was a prince.
Stacey ran over to him, grinning. ‘Leo!’ She then curtsied then thought maybe that was too much so held out her hand to shake his. Leo chuckled. ‘Hi, Stacey, right?’
‘Yes! Is Olivia still coming to Book Club tonight?’
‘I believe she is,’ Leo drawled, his mouth quirking up in the corner as he imagined Olivia at a book club with these mothers.
‘Fantastic. Rachel’s bringing her famous lemon squares!’
Leo nodded, holding back laughter. Lemon squares. Olivia and lemon squares.
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Stacey dropped off Milo after playgroup. Apparently, Milo had loved the leaf that Lily had given him and was now holding her hand as she dragged him over to where Leo was sat watching TV.
‘Uncle Leo, this is Milo! Milo, this is my uncle Leo. He’s the best.’
Leo raised a hand. ‘Hey kiddo. How ya doin?’
Milo blushed and looked down at the floor. He was shy.
Olivia was finished getting ready for book club. She was wearing black leather trousers, a lace red top and thigh high black boots. ‘Wish me luck,’ she groaned, giving Leo a kiss. She chucked Milo under the chin and brought Lily in for a hug.
‘There’s pizza in the freezer,’ she told Leo, ‘give them that. Maybe add some spinach on top so Camille won’t freak about the lack of greens.’
‘Love you Aunt Olivia!’ Lily cried. Olivia smirked. ‘Love ya too, babe.’
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Olivia had only read four pages of the assigned book. She didn’t know what it was about so she had done a quick Wikipedia browse to get up to speed. It sounded awful but hey, she wasn’t much of a reader or a student really. When she attended tutoring in the palace with Liam and Drake as a teenager, she was the one who sat in the back making spitballs and aiming them at Drake’s head.
She arrived at Stacey’s house with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Olivia was not a cosy, cute, ‘bake a cake for fun’ kind of woman. She was never going to be that kind of person. She was daggers, murder documentaries and red wine.
Stacey greeted her with enthusiasm and led her into the house. ‘So amazing you could come!’ she cried. ‘Ladies, Olivia’s here!’
Olivia was taken into the living room where four other women sat around the coffee table. On the table were baked goods and tea. Easy listening music was playing softly in the background. They were all wearing sweater vests, like fucking Bertrand Beaumont.
Fuck.
‘Hi everyone,’ she said awkwardly. Stacey grinned. ‘Sit down beside me!’
Olivia sat down and crossed her legs; one of the women looked at her boots in surprise.
‘So, this is Rachel, Jemma, Katherine and Mandy.’
‘Hi Olivia!’ they all said in unison with fixed smiles. Olivia wondered if they were robots. Robots would be better.
One of them poured her a cup of tea. ‘I’m Rachel,’ she said, giving Olivia a warm smile. ‘It’s so nice you’re here.’
‘It’s certainly different,’ Olivia said. She took a sip of tea and wished it was something stronger.
‘I thought you were going to serve wine?’ she said.
Stacey blinked. ‘Oh yes.. I have wine in the fridge if you prefer that?’
Great, now Olivia felt like a floozy.
‘Um, it’s okay-’
‘I’ll have wine,’ Rachel said, jumping in. ‘Ladies? Wine?’
She was clearly trying to make Olivia feel more comfortable. Olivia could handle anything if she had a dagger on her person but when faced with social situations like this... she wanted to hide. She was grateful when she saw the bottle of wine being brought through.
They began to discuss the book. Olivia sat in silence, murmuring the occasional ‘mmm’ in agreement. God, she was bored. This book sounded shit. The wine was going down quite nicely because all she did was drink instead of talking.
‘What did you think Olivia?’
They all turned to her. She sighed. ‘Look, I’ll be honest. I haven’t read it. I went on Wikipedia earlier but that’s all. Sorry. Do I get an F?’
They all stared in silence until they let out peals of laughter. ‘Oh thank god!’ Rachel cried. ‘I only read one chapter, I’ve been bullshitting the rest!’
‘I asked my oldest son to tell me what it was about since he read it in school last year,’ Katherine admitted.
‘I listened to the audio book..’ Mandy said, ‘but that was on the train to work so I’ve only gotten to chapter three..’
Stacey blinked in shock. ‘So none of you have read it?’
They all shook their head. ‘So why bother having a book club?!’ Stacey asked, her voice rising. ‘Why even meet? What can we talk about that’s not our kids?’
‘Dick.’
They all turned to Olivia who was reclining on the sofa with a smirk on her face.
‘Dick?’ Stacey whispered.
‘If you want, I can tell you about Leo’s dick but only if you talk about your partners,’ Olivia said casually.
Rachel jumped up and down on her seat. ‘I want to hear about the prince’s dick!’
**********************************************************************************
Lily and Milo demolished the pizza, slyly picking off the spinach. They were sat on the floor watching Peppa Pig and Leo was lying on the sofa with his laptop. This was easy. Taking care of kids was a walk in the park. Just let them eat junk, watch what they want and they’re happy. And he was looking after two of them! That was one more than Drake and Camille.
Leo, Lily and Milo had danced around to 90s trance music in the kitchen. ‘No no, no no no no, no no no, THERE’S NO LIMIT!’ they had screamed as they danced, jumped and spun around. Lily had never heard trance in her life but her eyes bulged as she shrieked, ‘this is the best music everrrrrr!’
The kids finished their pizza and then ran off to play. Leo changed the channel to put on something more grown up, say Deadpool for example, and settled down to watch.
His peace was destroyed when he heard a piercing scream.
Leo bolted up from the sofa and rushed into the hall where the screaming had come from. ‘Oh fuck!’ he cursed, running to where Lily was crumpled on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Milo was standing with his hands to his mouth, whimpering.
‘What happened?’ Leo asked.
‘She fell,’ Milo said quietly. ‘Tripped on the stairs..’
Lily was crying and Leo scooped her up, sitting down on the step with her on his lap. ‘Honey, where are you hurt?’
She pointed to her head where a small bump was beginning to form. Leo swallowed, trying not to freak. Okay, what helped bumps? A wet cloth? A bag of frozen peas?
A BAG OF FROZEN PEAS.
He hastily carried her to the kitchen, followed by a still whimpering Milo, and set her down on the kitchen counter. He rifled through the freezer until he found a bag of peas and he gently pressed them to her head. ‘There you go, this will help,’ he told her softly. Gently, he wiped her tears away with his finger.
Leo looked down at Milo. ‘Hey kiddo,’ he whispered. ‘Want some ice cream?’
Milo smiled wobbily and Leo grinned, taking out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s and two spoons. He set Milo on the counter too and the two kids started to spoon up ice cream for themselves. Leo watched them and sank down at the table, relieved that disaster was averted.
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Disaster was not averted.
Drake had phoned to check up on them and asked to speak to his ‘favourite girl.’ Leo hoped Lily wouldn’t blow it and reveal Leo’s uselessness with children. She chatted away to him as she sat on the sofa with the bag of peas fixed to her head and Milo sat beside her, refusing to leave her side.
He was a protective boyfriend. Much like her protective dad, who blew up when she happily said, ‘I fell down the stairs and now I’ve got peas and ice cream.’
Leo heard Drake bellow his name even when the phone was still pressed to Lily’s ear. Lily handed him the phone and whispered, ‘oops’ before helping herself to more ice cream.
‘Lover boy!’ Leo greeted him, trying to mask his nerves. He left the living room to stand in the hallway. ‘How’s the sexcation?’
‘She fell down the fucking stairs?’ Drake hissed. ‘What the hell happened?’
Leo winced. ‘She fell down the stairs yes, but it’s fine! I put a frozen bag of peas on her head and ice cream.’
‘I gathered that,’ Drake replied dryly. ‘How did it happen?’
‘Um... I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘I was watching Deadpool.’
‘You were watching Deadpool when my daughter fell down the stairs?! What the fuck, Leo?!’
Leo was about to respond when the front door burst open to reveal a laughing Olivia and a hiccuping Stacey. Olivia threw her hands up. ‘There’s my man!’ she shouted, banging into the wall. Stacey pointed at him and hollered, ‘Mr Big Dick Energy!’
They were hammered.
Book Club had clearly escalated.
There was a silence on the phone until Drake growled, ‘Is Olivia drunk?’
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#103
New Year... And ya girl is STILL MOVING HER BOOTY every day!! Currently I am on a streak of 164 days of moving my body every day in some form, and I don't plan to stop any time soon 😈
So today I wanted to show you some CURTSY LUNGES + PULSES from my new program!
Tips:
- To get into the curtsy position, bring the back foot behind and further across the than the front foot, but keep hips facing forward. Do not force the foot further back than your flexibility allows!
- Keep torso upright, no leaning forward
- Plie or squat until the knee is hovering right above the floor
- Modification: do not go as low in the pile/squat
This new Barre program is 😍😍😍😍😍
❤️️ It’s for ANYONE. Athletes, beginners, young, older!
❤️️ Injury-preventative. Flexibility and mobility PROTECTS your body!!!
❤️️So many try it for the physical results (because HELLO, they’re no joke 💪💪) and walk away elevated EMOTIONALLY and mentally in ways they totally didn’t expect!
❤️️Want to be a tad taller?? These workouts will help elongate your spine. #stretchmywholebodyplease
Can someone just stretch my whole body for me please? Be right back… momma has to work out and come back ready to jam 🤸♀️🤸♀️🤸♀️
Drop an emoji if this sounds like YOUR NEW THANG TOO.
💪💪💪
***also, hope the captions on this video worked! I am woking on making my content accessible for everyone 👍🏼
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