#kids gym wear

[quicktimeeventfull]

ok although i love the idea of light being horrified by having randomly fallen for this person who is below his standards(tm) my personal hc is that he’s actually just really into guys that look Weird As Hell. he likes freaky little guys who lick sugar off their hands like a horse and appear not to have slept for the past sixteen years. L on the other hand is into the human equivalent of vitamix blenders.

[flowerytale]

The Hungry Ghost - The Cure 💚

this was already on my playlist, but thank you so much✨

[jrueships]

CRYING

LOOK AT ALL THE HAPPY LIL BABIES!! 😭😭 HES SO GOOD WITH THEM

he would make SUCH a good younger ages school teacher

[the-ghost-king]

actually, no, childhood gym classes are that bad. not only do they make you play recreational sports for a grade but then they also send you to class sweaty afterwards and your teams are usually selected via an agab rigged lottery.

thats like if an adult wanted to go to a gym and sign up for yoga and was told "oh no! you'll like soccer much better!" and then was assigned a team based on a trait of there's they may or may not feel any relation to (congrats your second toe is shorter than your big toe you can play on team tiny toes!) and then you send them to their work or the grocery store sticky and sweaty and try to explain to them why exercise is fun and they should do more of it....

like I get that it's about physical activity and education and also that trying various sports is to give variety and encourage trying new things but like also it's really poorly done.... don't even get me started on when they did "health exams" and talked about food groups and they'd have you weight yourself in front of your peers and also sort food choices you made solely into good/bad and then they'd go make you do a pull up in front of your peers too 😑

[moonysfavoritetoast]

“gym is the best subject in school”

i’m sorry what? it’s not even a subject. it’s just a pervy teacher who went to watch the girls on the run 5k in may even though he doesn’t have a daughter or neice or sibling or ANYTHING that would be in it because he has two adult sons and a twelve year old niece and girls on the run is third through fifth grade and he stares at girls running and makes girls feel like they shouldn’t eat because they’re fat (they’re not, i was in classes with some of the skinniest kids in my school)

why is gym your favorite subject the teacher makes you do jumping jacks sometimes for twenty minutes straight for warmups if health class is there bc if ONE PERSON stops you have to all start over again and go for a full minute why is gym your favorite subject

[july-19th-club]

dreamed once again about amy [redacted] and this time we were at our old high school for some reason or another and i owned a really cool but finicky vintage car. she was wearing a grey sweatshirt with faded pink roses on it and i was like. what is wrong with you ive never seen you wear florals in my life

[thespongebobsquarepantsmovie]

my mom underestimates my physical strength but i cant really get annoyed by it because im surprised i still even have strength when i havent been able to do much

[dbphantom]

Hmmm lungs and throat pain. Don't like that.

[tophat-owl]

Listen, I know that stereotypes are bs and are only really for storytelling but sometimes you just look at yourself and just go "this isn't how it's ment to go"

I don't mean this in a self deprecating way! I really mean this in the most "wtf lol" way possible.

For here is me a: Nerd, artist, gamer that likes cartoons sutch as the ninja turtles and Moomin as well as me being a writer of fanfiction and let's not forget the fact I dress like 1800s boy.

And to ad on top of all of that.

I'm a gym bro, that loves staying healthy.

[soupacool]

thinking about my butch dyke gym teacher from elementary school rn I hope she's doing well

[lvlystars]

i saw a dorito guy. mf was SNATCHED

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[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ the way of the househusband ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[malphason0]

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[angstandhappiness]

HOLY SHITE THAT'S MESSED UP

in hindsight, the american public school idea of gym class was both absolutely buckwild and also incredibly ableist. i have a degree in education, and the more time i spend away from being a student, the less the concepts espoused there make any sense to me.

i was dancing ballet somewhere between 3-5 days a week, but i have never been a good runner. i have asthma and, at the time, i had horrible shin splints. yet running was seen as the only indicator of my health. my teacher fucking hated me for my lack of sprinter's interest here, like i was doing it to spite him. he thought that asthma was something "only for kids", like i was faking a wracking cough just so i could be "lazy" and "get away with it".

we weren't trained how to run safely. we often ran with bad form in sneakers that didn't quite fit. we were required to be able to ace this test once a year, immediately, with no follow-up or practicing. the rest of the year, gym class was a waste of time and energy. even kids who liked gym liked it because it was useless in entirety.

maybe he hated me because i was one of those students who shouldn't have struggled. i was pretty fit. during the sit-up test, i outpaced the other kids. corework is incredibly important to dancers, so i found the sit-up test easy. my teacher didn't take down my first result. he said, i've seen how you run, no way your number is that high. i explained i dance, he snorted and said you hardly have the body of an athlete and made me do the test again to be sure i wasn't "cheating". when i still passed, he said so you don't bother running just because you're a little rebel, huh? i bet you just like making men angry.

we had these sweat-covered wooden boxes to test our hamstring flexibility. you'd sit down, put your feet against a board, and push a slider away from your body. we had 3 turns to pass the test. on the first turn, my teacher watched as i gently pushed the slider to the end of the row instead of shoving myself forcefully over my toes. he said don't be rude, take the test seriously. i said - "okay, but i clearly can pass the test, i don't want to force my muscles. sudden movements aren't good form." he said i was going to get a detention at this rate. that he knew it was going to be a fight with you, it always is. you like the attention because you don't get it at home, huh?

i was 14, and i was annoyed and embarrassed, and i didn't handle it well. so i did as requested. i made my hands into a little diamond and shoved, just the way he wanted. the slider snapped off due to the amount of sudden force. i hit the end of the row so hard the test just fucking broke. i was sitting there, shocked by what was a legitimate accident: and this dude goes white and then red in the face. this is one of the only times in my life i got sent to the principal. he said she is vindictive and broke school property. malicious. noncompliant. for gym that year, i skirted by with an ugly "barely passing" D+.

and i was lucky. for once in my life, my parents were extremely chill about the whole thing. they saw the grade and just laughed about it. they were paying for me to go to dance class 4 hours a day, they knew exactly how fit i was. the principal tried to explain it to them, annoyed with their dismissal: i clearly wasn't healthy. he made sure they knew i wasn't an athlete, because dance is not a sport. i had to run the mile three times that year, to "make up" for my lack of effort. i walked it slow on purpose.

and i just... don't get it. in no other class would the lack of accommodations or training be appropriate. yes, you should know certain things leaving a class, but nobody expects you to be able to recite the whole biology textbook by the third month. nobody particularly expects you to pass a test if the teacher has literally never taught it. imagine if in english, you had a random test on vocabulary, and when you said these are just random words you never taught us. it isn't a good indicator of my reading level, writing, or of my reading comprehension - you were told: well it's most of your grade, but it's not that fucking hard, is it?

it is not a class about how to cook or how to help yourself balance your diet or how to run or how to get good at stretching or how to stay agile or how to do cool gymnastics or how to listen to your body or how to watch for injury or how to treat chronic pain or how to safely use weights. it was an hour of my life where i would be bullied with the teacher's permission. i look back at this thing and i just... i don't get it. while art teachers and english teachers are struggling for any funding - gym is just. protected under the idea it is somehow helping america... stay "fit". they make us run a mile and then say "great, we've measured your health" ... and then that's just... it.

as i was teaching the other day, i mentioned the fitnessgram pacer test to my kids. they're 19, are in college. many of them haven't been in gym class for a few years. i wish you could have been there to see their reaction. it was like i reminded them of their worst nightmare. we had to derail the conversation just so each person could go around the room and say their horror story about it. and each person had a horror story.

these days, i'm doing well. i love how strong i am, when i can be strong and my heart don't act up. i still dance at least 3 times a week. i have a performance on saturday, actually. but before you ask - no, i never learned to run. i don't really want to either, because it's just not good for my particular body.

so i guess, according to them - that makes me unhealthy.

[retrosabers]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: the scent of you is driving logan crazy.

contains: mild 18+ content. MINORS DNI. mentions of masturbation (m&f), a steamy little make out, and implications of future smut

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not me trying to capitalize off the hugh jackman renaissance and revive my dead blog…anyways, this is my first time writing for logan! hope you all enjoy <3

i feel like we don’t talk enough about logan’s enhanced sense of smell.

the man can catch a whiff of someone the second they walk into the room, even the building sometimes if their scent is strong enough. it’s especially heightened when he realizes he’s attracted to you. at first he thought maybe it was because you were always wearing perfume, the aroma lingering around the mansion wherever you traveled. but then it became such an intense, all encompassing sensation that he knew it was something deeper.

his suspicions are confirmed one night as he walks past your room. if the faint whimpers he heard weren't enough confirmation of your activities, then the scent that fills his nostrils seals the deal.

you’re touching yourself. and he can smell your arousal.

it makes something stir in his stomach. the animal-like urges he always tries so hard to keep at bay threaten to make their way to the surface the longer he stands frozen in the hallway. logan attempts to shake the heat that spreads across his skin as he makes his way back to his own room, but it only ends with him cumming hard into his hand an hour later.

the next day, when he catches you on your way out of charles’ office, you offer him the same kind, beaming smile you always did. then that damned smell fills his nostrils again and his fists curl at his sides once you’re out of eyesight.

there’s only one explanation for it.

you’re ovulating.

which means there’s no escaping his desires unless you stay out of reach.

so for his sake and yours, he decides to just avoid you completely until the week is over. he can’t risk caving to those urges and doing something stupid and irrational.

of course you’re completely oblivious to it. you think that he’s just being weird, going through another rut of being a standoffish loner like he was when he first arrived at the mansion. because after about a week, he’s back to being a bit friendlier, to being the logan you had grown to call a close friend.

then the cycle seems to repeat itself and you notice it’s just you he’s avoiding.

you try and wrack your brain to think of anything you could’ve done to warrant this kind of isolation. you hoped if something upset logan he would just talk to you about it instead of playing this childish game of hot and cold.

after a couple months, you decide you’ve had enough.

cornering him was a difficult task. but you were observant enough to know certain parts of his routine, including exactly when he would be lingering in the common areas after all the kids had gone to sleep. after two failed attempts of trying to catch him in the kitchen, you finally managed to find him alone and unsuspecting.

“why have you been avoiding me?” you blurt, wanting to cut right to the chase. you’re expecting him to flinch a little bit, perhaps even be stunned.

but he knew you were coming. logan knew it was only a matter of time before you noticed his schtick.

still, he decides to look for an excuse, any excuse, to cover up the real reason.

“m’not avoiding you” he grumbles halfheartedly around the rim of a beer bottle. taking an extra long swig, he finally turns to look at you; leaning against the doorway with your arms folded and a look akin to annoyance plastered across your pretty face.

you cock your head to the side, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

“a few days ago, i watched you back out of a room the minute you realized i was in it,” you start to list off, counting with your fingers. “last month you avoided the wing where the gym was altogether while i was going through a new training regimen.”

logan winces at the memory. the scent of your pheromones was intoxicating. so much so that he couldn’t step foot anywhere near the gym without feeling like he needed to rub one out.

“and the month before that,” you huff out a sad laugh, voice suddenly soft and quiet. “you didn’t even say goodbye before you went off on that mission with scott and jean.”

guilt overtakes him quickly at the pain in your tone.

you’ve never looked smaller as you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” logan reassures, jumping out of his seat at record speed, though still trying to maintain some distance. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it? you sigh exasperatedly, desperate to put an end to this nagging feeling that’s been eating away at you. “logan, you know if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

and he wants to. he so badly wants to, maybe even see if you’ll offer to help him out. but you’re you. the sweetest, kindest thing he’s ever known and he’ll be damned if he lets his curse of a mutation ruin whatever relationship the two of you have.

but then you’re inching closer and his skin starts buzzing again. his senses are consumed by you. by the way you look up at him with big, wide eyes, the softness of your skin as you reach to place a comforting hand on his forearm. it's all too much, and he finds himself pulling away from you with a grunt.

it hurts to see him retreat from you so aggressively. his jaw is clenched tight, his fists at his sides even tighter as the veins in his arms bulge bigger than you’ve ever seen before. he looks pained. like he’s fighting something internally.

“logan,” you approach him cautiously, unsure of what exactly to do. “what’s going on?”

his eyes squeeze shut at the sound of your voice. “just, please go back to your room.”

“i’m not leaving you like this.”

“m’not asking you,” he grits out, almost like a growl. “i’m telling you. go back to your room.”

now he was starting to piss you off. you narrow your eyes, leaning your hip against the counter.

“or what?”

suddenly he’s crowding your space, chest heaving up and down as he stares at you with pupils so wide his eyes are nearly black. logan’s voice is scarily level when he utters his final warning.

“or i’m gonna do something i regret.”

when you shift closer to him, his nose twitches with a sniff. the raise of your brow doesn’t go unnoticed, and he knows that you’re not leaving this room until you get to the bottom of what he’s been hiding.

that’s when something inside logan decides to throw caution to the wind, just for a minute.

“i can smell you.”

curiosity morphs into confusion at his admission. you shake your head.

“i don’t understand.”

then, the man’s gaze travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, the tension in his jaw growing more taught by the second. his hands flex at his sides, trying to keep him grounded and calm as he finally admits what’s been driving him mad.

“i can smell you.”

the emphasis on the last word takes a minute to register. logan watches as the gears turn behind your eyes, catches the exact moment of realization as your gaze softens and your lips part.

oh.

oh.

slowly things start to piece together. how logan’s behavior seemed to fall around the same time these past couple months. a few weeks before your cycle.

he wasn’t avoiding you because he was angry, or upset. he was avoiding you because you were fucking ovulating.

logan expects you to flee, to be completely weirded out and steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. what he’s not expecting, is the words that come out of your mouth.

“i can help you with that if you want.”

you say it with such nonchalance, such casualness that he wonders if you’re even really grasping what you’ve said.

the wolverine shakes his head. “trust me, you don’t want this.”

he doesn’t quite believe his own words as he watches you close the distance between your bodies. something you’ve been desperate to do for as long as you can remember.

the thin fabric of his tank top and the soft cotton of your t-shirt is the only thing standing between you both. your chests are mere centimeters from touching and logan can feel the heat radiating from your bodies as his confession hangs heavy in the air. then that fucking smell comes back tenfold and he groans.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me,” your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with desire as your fingers ghost over the waistband of his jeans. he feels like a horny teenager as he preens at the barely there contact.

logan breathes your name, a last stitch effort to get you to run, though he knows it’s futile. if there’s one thing he knows about you, it’s that you're stubborn. unmoving in your ways.

and that when you want something, you don’t stop until you get it.

your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, a rather gentle touch he wasn’t anticipating. his eyes flutter shut as you swipe your thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone.

your words are barely above a whisper. “i trust you, logan. completely.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he throws any sense of self control out the window.

he surges forward and captures your lips in what is possibly the most heated kiss you’ve ever experienced. you nearly stumble over at the sheer force of it. logan’s large hands fly to your waist, yours to the back of his neck as his tongue prods for entrance into your mouth. it’s messy, almost primal as you let him ravish you like he’s been thinking about for weeks.

you moan and he swallows the sound greedily, desperate to hear it again, and again, and again. when his lips move to press against the column of your throat, you know this is going to escalate into exactly what you hoped it would.

“logan,” you breathe out as he focuses on your pulse point, his hands wandering further south to knead at the globes of your ass. “not here.”

“why not?” he mutters, all smirky and smug as he continues to press wet hot kisses against your neck.

“because i would prefer if you didn’t fuck me where our friends eat.”

he laughs, a deep vibration felt against your chest as you absentmindedly grind your core against his. it makes him bring his mouth back up to yours, stealing one final kiss before he pulls away.

looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. and by god you might just let him.

pressing a playful smack against your backside, he gently nudges you in the direction of the corridor.

“lead the way sugar.”

thanks for reading! <3