#bread is flexible

[feral-and-or-horny]

If I invite someone over for Netflix and chill and we put on a Pompeii documentary, they should know we're not fucking.

We're watching it all the way through and I will gush about how cool it is the whole time

[thebluehoursofmorning]

unfortunately i keep thinking about trying to bake croissants

[sereina-archive]

Serena’s Class List:

At the academy, Serena is enrolled in several classes for her Professor program. Many of these classes are prerequisites required by the academy, while others specifically are meant for her field of study.

Calculus - Serena takes a very high level math class, as it’s required for her degree. Luckily, she was able to skip over the lower level classes needed to get to the high level. She achieved this by taking a placement test prior to enrolling in any classes, and was luckily placed right where she needed to be. Math is easily one of her strongest subjects, and she’s always willing to help those in her class with homework or tutoring.

Sciences - Her science classes make up a brunt of her coursework, engaging so far in classes for pokemon biology/chemistry, anatomy and physiology, genetics, and environmental/habitat science. A lot of these classes can be related to one another, but they’re all extremely tough and vigorous courses. Beyond lectures, she attends hands on labs for 3 days out of the week, several hours a day. If there’s any downtime in the labs, or they end early, she spends the rest of the time doing homework.

Language - A general education prerequisite that Serena takes. Being able to pick the specific language class she takes, she’s chosen Johtonese. She’s somewhat familiar with the language already, but not enough to be truly considered ‘fluent’. This class helps supplement some of the language skills she was missing.

Arts/Home Ec - Two more prerequisite classes Serena takes at her time in the academy. For arts in particular, she takes a pottery class. She finds it fun being able to create something with her own two hands, and has the subtle and nuanced touch needed for clay creations. Home ec is another class she takes to satisfy prerequisite requirements. She thoroughly enjoys the class, and still finds new things to learn and apply to her life. The recipes she’s learned in the class are ones she holds onto and uses whenever she cooks in her dorm, or if she’s out and about in Paldea.

History - Serena takes a course on Paldean History in specific, as she wants to learn more about the history of the region she’ll be in for an undetermined amount of time. This class was where she learned about Paldea’s ‘treasures’, and the sealed grounds found across the region - something that has piqued her interest.

Battle Studies - The battle studies Serena is enrolled in are more on the advanced side, as she was able to prove her mettle and avoid being placed in the beginner or intermediate-geared classes. These classes help keep her own pokemon sharp during their time abroad, allowing her a chance to train them and test her strength against the other students in the class.

[evilponds]

getting back into meal prep now that im settled at the new place. this week is tandoori chicken time

[global-parachem]

Global Parachem LLP is a leading Indian flexible packaging company based in Uttar Pradesh's Noida and Ghaziabad in New Delhi NCR. 

[heabitfruity]

Silly Hobbies: Primarch Edition

Apparently I wrote too much according to tumblr, so I'm sorry if it's choppy :[

Lion El'Johnson - He actually really loves analyzing "literature"; but not normal literature like Shakespeare or Kafka. He likes analyzing things like The U.S Constitution and The Treaty of Versailles. He does this because he thinks it will help him diplomatically (it doesn't, nobody gets why he does it otherwise, not even his sons).

Fulgrim - This man knows how to dance to every K-Pop song known to man. He can throw it back to "Baby Got Back" and has tried to teach Sanguinius and Ferrus Manus how (It didn't go well, Ferrus threw his back out ). This man knows the exact choreography to "Womanizer", "Nude" and so many other songs.

Perturabo - He likes making useless contraptions; like infomercial level sort of inventions. He has invented bread-dogs, a time-machine to go back exactly two seconds for each use, a voice-recording recorder, etc. He uses Dorn to test it out, despite their... feelings for one another. He knows that Dorn will give him a blunt answer; even if he is told that the invention is "stupid".

Jaghatai Khan - He's really good at acrobatics, specifically everything with the asymmetrical bars; this man could easily escape a pack of dogs with a pen in his pocket (If anyone gets this reference I will be so proud). He attempted to teach Angron how to do the basics, but it didn't go that well; the man is just simply not flexible enough yet.

Leman Russ - This is a secret that he will take to his grave because he suffers from major internal misogyny. He knows how to knit, and he's REALLY good. He grew up on a planet that is 75% of the time below zero, of course the second he got ahold of yarn and wool he got to making warm things for his marine-sons! However, he plays it off as things like: "the citizens of Fenris have donated these for our cause".

Rogal Dorn - He likes making massive forts, societies and various massive structures in Minecraft, with Legos, Lincoln Logs, and those small, ceramic Christmas towns. They're usually quite extensive, but not extravagant. He will pester Perturabo and Magnus to look at them, and this often leads to debates about how these civilizations would function.

Konrad Curze - He teaches cooking classes; however, they are not pleasant. At the end of meal prep, all students are covered in blood due to Konrad butchering whatever protein they had prepared. The food actually tastes amazing, however the process of making it is certainly a battle within itself. Sevatar is his sous chef, which means he frequently has to do most of the work that isn't butchering.

Sanguinius - Honestly, animal rehabilitation. I know this sounds absolutely odd, but due to him having wings, he has to know how to keep a healthy batch of feathers! He's excellent at bird handling, and actually really enjoys it. He's saved at least 54 birds (he doesn't get to find many, his sons typically try to steer him away).

Ferrus Manus - Dude actually makes some really mean jewelry; like the man makes the permanent ankle chains, ring engravements, earrings (with the help of Fulgrim). He's made a lot for his brothers like Leman, Fulgrim, Magnus, and the Khan. They're all very appreciative (though Ferrus has to make Leman a special mixture so he doesn't chew through it by accident).

Angron - He does extreme sports! It helps focus on something that doesn't direct his anger at things that he doesn't need to focus on. It's somewhat funny to think of him riding a BMX, but his absolute favorite is bungee-jumping! He has forced demanded that his sons and brothers try it to "toughen them up". However, nobody except Konrad wanted to. (They both had a great time! One of the few times they've actually bonded over anything.)

Guilliman - He enjoys grading papers... He enjoys signing up to grade the essays of AP classes on Terra and does it every year if he has the time. He takes the pleasure of learning things about literary merit from other people's perspectives, and every time it makes him consider becoming a professor (even though it would be highly impractical).

Mortarion - He enjoys escape rooms, especially with Konrad and Horus. They actually usually have a great time, though sometimes they have to stop Konrad from digging into the walls. He actually commissioned Perturabo to make an elaborate escape room with hatches and secret pathways all around a set of shipping containers. It was so fun that he actually decided to keep it. (He still discovers new routes and puzzles in it every time he goes in.)

Magnus the Red - He plays Dungeons and Dragons with Khan, Guilliman, Perturabo and Alpharius and Omegon. He ALWAYS is the Dungeon Master, no matter what. This is not because he is selfish and possessive (he is a little), but because nobody in the group can seem to maintain a regular gaming schedule. They have simply resorted to Magnus being the godly controller of their games.

Horus Lupercal - This man fishes. I'm sorry, he does the straight, white man fishing and poses. He takes pictures of the fish with the awkward raised arm but genuine smile. He sometimes gives the fish to Konrad, however, less so after finding out from his students what happens during his classes.

Lorgar Aurelian - He writes fanfiction. He likes to show Magnus and Horus his angsty stuff. This stuff is even enough to make Magnus cry a little. Lorgar, however, also writes smut. I believe that this man has never had the intimate touch of any person. Not because he's celibate, but because he's a bitch. The smut's written like in the early days of Wattpad. It's disastrously bad (Think "his meat-cicle entered her mound"). Leman found it one time, he tormented Lorgar for weeks with it.

Vulkan - He bakes! He has learned all the favorite sweets of all of his brothers, making sure to surprise them occasionally whenever they haven't spoken in a while. He loves it whenever there are big events, gives him a chance to see all of his brothers and see them enjoy his work. (There have been some small altercations due to people hoarding food)

Corvus - He likes fashion; but not in a New York fashion week way, more of an Edna from The Incredibles way. He uses the help of Ferrus and Leman to help sew cloaks, shape up boots, and they use Sanguinius and Fulgrim to model it to make sure it looks good and it works.

Alpharius Omegon - They like mimicking their brothers as much as possible; in a "try to look exactly like them" way. It is actually really impressive, even going past the uncanny valley vibe. This led to Mortarion walking in on two versions of himself standing at his bedroom door and it made him piss his pants; and nobody believed him when he told the rest of them.

[dulcesiabits]

your attention on me, please!

summary: despite a spotless academic career, your poor athleticism makes the upcoming school sports day a nightmare. but when you spot the school slacker, nagi seishiro, pull off a crazy feat of flexibility, you think you've found your ticket to success. The one thing you didn't account for, though, is the way nagi wrecks everything you thought you understood.

notes: 7.5k words, fic, author's notes (read for some cultural context too), no blue lock au, fluff, romcom vibes, soccer is called football, this starts before nagi meets reo but covers a canon divergent vers of their meeting

Everything in the world can be categorized. 

This is something you’ve come to learn in all your years of living on the planet; it’s something you’ve come to expect, even. That there are certain patterns to interactions, that people can be dissected into simple pieces, and the world moves neatly along set routes you can predict. You’ve mapped out a path to success with your knowledge: graduate at the top of your class as student representative, test into a prestigious university, and work for a successful company. 

But there are some people who, despite your best efforts, wreck your neat understanding of the world, strange outliers who are more like aliens rather than fellow residents of the same planet. Nagi Seishiro, a classmate you’ve never paid particular attention to before, is one such example of an alien. Because despite your best efforts, you can’t help but find him incomprehensible. 

Your first meeting with Nagi Seishiro is less of a meeting, and more of a chance encounter. The roof, which is often forbidden to students, is easily accessible once you pick the lock. And because of that, it’s also the one place you can go to relax outside of the view of your classmates.

At least, you used to be the only one who knew the roof was accessible. Because on a balmy day during your second year of high school, you find someone lounging on the flat tiles, a phone raised in front of their face.

You pause, squinting at the intruder. It takes you a few seconds, but eventually you recognize who it is: your classmate, Nagi Seishiro, who’s perpetually napping in class, or pretending to read while he plays video games. 

But he doesn’t look up once from his phone, so you carefully skirt to the opposite corner of where he lies, taking your textbooks out of your bag to study. The next few hours pass in silence, and it’s only when the roof door bangs open that you look up to see Nagi disappearing down the stairs. 

Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. You two orbit each other for the next few weeks, sharing space on the roof without talking. Maybe it’s because the rooftop has made you aware of his existence, but you start seeing him around school, too. Dawdling in the classroom after school as everyone flies past him, getting reprimanded for overdue library books, or buying bread from the cafeteria long after everyone else has already stolen the best pieces.

Nagi lives in a world of his own and moves along at his own pace, and makes absolutely no effort in anything at all. Your paths will never intersect, because the way he lives is an antithesis to everything you believe in.

But that all changes a few weeks before the school sports meet. Exercise is the one thing you can’t seem to improve in; unlike your grades or your sociability, you simply can’t practice enough to overcome your lack of coordination. But simply giving up isn’t an option; you can’t accept anything less than first place after embarrassing yourself last year. 

On the opposite side of the roof from Nagi Seishiro, where you’re accustomed to studying now, you happen to glance up at the exact moment he trips over his own untied shoelaces and drops his phone… before he sweeps his free foot to catch the falling object and twists his arm to use his hand to push himself back into a standing position, all in the span of a few seconds. 

“That was dangerous,” he mumbles, kicking his phone back into his grasp, but your heart is pounding. You might have found a solution to your sports day problem.

“Nagi Seishiro,” you say, flying across the roof to plant yourself in front of him before he can move back to his usual lounging spot. 

He blinks at you sleepily, as if trying to place your face in his memories. “Who’re you?”

“Your classmate. I saw that stunt just now,” you continue. “You… you’re really athletic.”

“I guess?”

“Help me become a better athlete.” you raise one hand. “I don’t expect you to do it for free, though! I promise I can help you raise your grades in return. The teacher chews you out a lot in class for not paying attention, right? It’d be a good deal!”

His reply is immediate. “Don’t want to.”

“Why not? I mean, if you don’t like the terms of our deal, I could come with something that’s more favorable to you–”

“I don’t care about all of that,” he says bluntly. “It sounds like a lot of work.”

Huh. Huh? You try to maintain a smile, but you feel as if he just threw cold water on your face. “What do you mean, it’s a lot of work?”

“It just sounds like a pain. I don’t want to do it,” he says. He glances down at his phone screen. “Ah. I died. Guess I’ll need to restart that level.”

“Wait!” you say before he can move around you. “It won’t be a lot of work. I just need to know how you pulled off that stunt– I mean, didn’t you practice to get that good?”

“Not really? I just sorta did it. It’s like…” He waves one arm vaguely. “You sorta go fwoosh. And then fwaah.”

“... What?” Was he just naturally gifted, then? You don’t think you’ve seen any of your friends on sports teams act as flexibly as he did.

“If you don’t get it, I can’t explain it,” he says. “Why are you trying so hard? Can’t you ask someone else?”

He didn’t mean it negatively, not with the spacey expression in his eyes and the lack of malice in his tone. Still, a jolt of anger runs down your spine as you grab onto the lapels of his jacket, wrenching him to look down at you. “No. It has to be you. Don’t run away from me, Nagi Seishiro,” you say furiously. “I can’t pull off anything you just did, but I want to get better anyways. So you’re going to help me, because you don’t have a choice. I won’t let you go.”

“... What a pain,” Nagi mumbles. “But it’d be more of a pain to refuse, huh…”

You frown. “What was that?”

“Nothing, boss. But I’m ranking in an event right now, so can we wait until–”

“I’ll help you rank,” you say immediately. “So no more excuses.”

Nagi puts up his hands in surrender. “Okay.”

After your (one-sided) agreement, Nagi starts to stick to you like a burr. Or it might be more accurate to say that you refuse to let him out of your sight, because the second you stop paying him an ounce of attention, he goes back to dozing, gaming or lying around doing nothing.

Sure, your deal was only limited to sports training, but seeing the state of him, you couldn’t just let him be. Seriously, how on earth has he survived until now? He has all the energy and drive of a sloth.

“You need to brush your hair more,” you snap, running a comb through his soft hair as Nagi dozes at his desk. “It’ll get tangled otherwise.”

“Too much work.”

“Everything’s too much work with you. But you know, you only create more work for yourself in the future if you neglect doing basic routines like this now,” you emphasize.

“Is that why you always work so hard?” he says.

“Well, yes. I want to do my best at everything, because I want to be successful. That’s the best path to happiness, you know. Doing your best and achieving great results because of it.”

“Huh.” Nagi takes out a smushed piece of melon bread from his pocket. “You’re weird.”

“You’re the weird one,” you grumble. “Is that the only thing you brought to eat?”

“Yeah.”

You put down the comb, and, rummaging around in your bag, pull out your lunchbox. You slam it down on Nagi’s desk. “Eat half of this. You can’t survive off of just bread.”

“Okay.”

After school, though, is when you hustle Nagi to the nearby park in your gym clothes, ready to start training. Nagi is an unmotivated teacher, but from his limited and vague explanations, you’ve managed to at least work out that you need to be more observant of your limbs, and the space around you. 

At the park, you force him to run laps with you, and go through a few exercise routines you’ve looked up online. By the end of it, you’re panting and sweating, but Nagi looks as unruffled as ever.

“Water,” Nagi says, tapping the side of your head with a water bottle. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, but he’s already messing with his phone again.

“Log on,” he says. “I want to rank again.”

“What? Let’s go for a few more rounds,” you protest.

“But you promised to help me.”

You groan, fishing your phone out of your bag. You weren’t particularly interested in games, but after realizing it incentivized Nagi more than any of your pleading, you’d brushed up on your skills, watched tutorials and practiced strategies, and soon found yourself battling side by side with Nagi in a virtual world during most of your evenings. 

“... You’re good,” Nagi mumbles as your fingers tap across the screen, clearing a row of enemies. 

“That’s because I practice. Okay, done!” You bounce up, stretching your arms. “A few more laps, Nagi. Come on!”

Nagi groans but lethargically raises himself up, and you run around the park until night falls.

You don’t know what to think of your classmate, to be honest. He’s a genius at sports, but he never practices or utilizes his talent. How can he just let it go to waste? Taking the easy route is a foreign concept, and you still can’t quite fit the pieces of Nagi Seishiro into a coherent design. Spacey, unmotivated, lackadaisical… you’d even start keeping spare supplies in your bag because Nagi is always forgetting his notebook at home, or needs to borrow a towel. But despite how pushy you act, he never acts bothered by it. Nor does he mind listening to you, or doing what you say, or following you around, though you thought he would have long thrown in the towel by now.

You’re friends, and you’re fond of him. The idea surprises you when you realize it, but it’s not an unpleasant thought.

The next few weeks fly by in a routine of school, training and home until the day of the anticipated sports meet. You’ve signed up for the relay race, and you jump up and down to keep your energy up. You chatter away with your classmates until the appointed time, all your friends teasing you and trying to pat you on the head. 

Mikage Reo is no such exception, and your oldest friend finds you in the crowd while fighting back a gaggle of fawning admirers. 

You’ve been friends with Reo since middle school. 

Maybe you naturally gravitated towards each other because you’re both always surrounded by people, or because your grades are neck and neck, or because his philosophy in life is similar to yours. The only difference between the two of you is that Mikage Reo is a corporate heir, and you earned a scholarship to attend school. The worst part about being his friend, though, is that you’ve heard whispers of people around school calling the two of you “the school’s flowers,” a nickname you hope never, ever catches on.

“Good luck,” Reo says, flicking your nose. “Don’t trip out there.”

You pat Reo on the shoulder. “Be amazed, Reo. I’m a new and improved athlete.”

He snorts. “Yeah? I’ve heard you dragged some kid into being your personal trainer. You never let up, do you?”

“That’s the only way to succeed, Reo! I have to keep my eyes on the prize!” 

You make your way down to the starting line of the track, but a familiar head of fluffy white hair catches your gaze. You run behind Nagi and poke him in the sides.

“Oof,” he says, but he doesn’t look surprised to see you. “You’re going to run now?”

“Yes. And I’m going to bring us to victory!” You raise your arms. “I’ve practiced hard for this moment, so keep your eyes on me, Nagi.”

A gaggle of boys in red jerseys passing by snicker at your declaration. From the class across from yours, you recall distantly. “Loser,” one of them calls. “Who gets worked up over a school event?”

For once, you see a spark of anger in Nagi’s eyes, an emotion you’ve never seen cross his face before. He frowns, opening his mouth, but you place a hand on his elbow. He relaxes at your touch, glancing lopsidedly at you. 

“Don’t pay them any attention,” you say firmly. “It’s not worth it.”

“... Okay.” But Nagi’s eyes remain narrowed at their retreating backs.

“It’s nice of you to worry, though. Thanks.” His concern is a warmth you carry in your chest all through the race; so he does have emotions other than apathy and faint annoyance. Yet another puzzle piece to the mystery of Nagi Seishiro. 

You get into position, the whistle blows, and the first runners of the race set off. You’re running the last leg of the relay, and your class is already behind when your classmate dashes up to you, slapping the baton in your hands. You sprint, all those weeks of dragging Nagi out to train working their magic as you pass one person… then another… but you’re still too far from the finish line with one person just ahead of you. Your legs pump. Your lungs burn. The wind whips past your face. You won’t make it like this. Reo cheers your name in the distance. And there’s a shock of white hair out of the corner of your eye, and you know he’s watching, the slacker, and he probably doesn’t see what the big deal is if you come in second… Keep going. Keep going… and, in a burst of speed, you strain your legs to the limit as you dash past your last competitor, your foot touching the finish line as your classmates erupt into cheers.

You can hardly process what happens next, your blood still pumping from the race, but you slow to a jog as your classmates swarm you, shouting praise. 

“Great job!” Reo says, and you high five him. 

But your eyes are already searching for Nagi, who sticks out of the crowd like a sore thumb, towering over the majority of your classmates.

“Did you see that?” you ask Nagi as you dash up to him.

“Yeah. You won. Congrats,” he says simply. “All your work paid off.”

“Do you have a different opinion on working hard now, Nagi?” you say, elbowing him in the side. 

“Dunno. Still seems like a lot. But… you looked like you were shining,” he says seriously. “I couldn’t stop watching you.” 

You pretend to cough into your elbow, hiding your warming cheeks. “Thanks. Anyways! You’re up next, right? What did you sign up for? Ping-pong?”

“I asked someone to switch with me,” he says. “I’m playing football now.”

“Foot… ball? Are you sure you can pick up on all the rules in a short amount of time?” you say, surprised. “Why would you do that?”

“Just because.” But the way Nagi avoids your gaze makes you wonder if he’s hiding something. Still, it wouldn’t be fair of you to pry, and the victory is still racing through your blood. 

“All right. I’ll go cheer you on, then.” 

The two of you make your way to the football field, where the rest of the team is warming up. Someone throws Nagi a blue jersey, and you turn to size up the opposing team. They’re wearing red jerseys… and they’re the same boys who had made fun of you, just a few moments ago. You glance at Nagi, but he’s lazily stretching one leg. 

“Good luck,” you say to Nagi.

“Hm. Won’t need it.” For once, you can’t tell if it’s confidence or lethargy in his voice.

The ensuing football game isn’t a game at all. It’s a one-sided slaughter, with Nagi leading the charge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Nagi move so fast or fluidly. The ball never leaves his side, and the other team can’t even touch him. One goal. Then another. And when it’s clear they can’t do anything to stop him, the enemy team starts frantically swarming Nagi, breaking formation. But not even a pile-up can save them from their fate, because Nagi simply dodges and kicks the ball into the goal in a series of complicated maneuvers that you can barely track with your eyes. 

The timer runs out, and no one can say a word. You start clapping, and like they’ve woken from a daze, your classmates start cheering, a roar so loud you can hear it reverberate in your heart.

“Did you see that? I didn’t realize Nagi could move like that,” one of your classmates murmurs. 

“I know! Where has he been hiding that talent? It’s so unfair!”

On the distant field, you see Nagi talk to one of opposing team members, who turns an ugly color at his words. You make your way down to the swarm of your excited classmates, but Nagi is already scanning the crowd, lazily waving off compliments from the people around him, and his droopy eyes perk up when you approach. 

“What did you say to that boy?” you whisper, and Nagi leans down so you can cup your hand around his ear. “He looked upset.”

“Just told him he shouldn’t be calling other people losers when he doesn’t even know how to play the game right,” Nagi says. “That’s all.”

“Did you…” The sudden thought feels ridiculous and self-centered. And yet, Nagi Seishiro, the guy who hates activity, who hates effort, who never seems to have particularly strong feelings… “Did you do that because of what he said to me?”

Nagi shrugs. “You worked hard for your goal. He shouldn't have said that.”

There’s a strange fluttering in your chest, and you clamp down on it with all your might. You aren’t going to go there. Because it’s absurd, and impossible, and simply doesn’t make any sense. It would ruin your perfectly aligned plans and wreck your understanding of the world. You’re barely even friends with Nagi; why would he go through all of that trouble for you?

Instead, you elbow him, more roughly than you intend to. “Thanks, but I told you it was okay. People say stupid things all the time.”

“But I didn’t like it,” he says firmly. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

Who is this guy? Did an alien abduct the real Nagi Seishiro and replace him mid-game? It’s hard to look at him, all of a sudden, so you glance down at your shoes instead, trying to calm the pounding of your heart.

The next day, Nagi Seishiro is the talk of the school. His one-sided destruction during sports day gets passed around in whispers and rumors, and a few of your classmates now tell him good morning when he walks through the door. Still, his attitude and manner is enough to put most of them off… all but your friend, Mikage Reo.

“Play football with me!” 

It’s a declaration made when you and Nagi are walking through the halls after school, Reo skirting to a stop just in front of you. He strides up to Nagi, his eyes shining in the golden afternoon sunlight.

“Don’t wanna,” Nagi says immediately.

“Why not? You have the talent, the genius… we could take the world by storm. You… could become the best player in Japan… no, the best player in the world! Be my football partner!” Reo says effusively.

Nagi glances at you. “I already have a partner.”

The term “partner” trills down your spine, but you hold up your hands at Reo’s crestfallen look. “Our deal was only for the sports meet. We’re not really partners anymore.” 

Did Nagi look disappointed, or was it just a trick of the light? Either way, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I still don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Reo demands.

“It sounds boring.”

“He thinks everything is too much work,” you say, and Reo throws you a stare that screams “how did you even convince him to work with you?” You grimace in response.

“Come on, Nagi Seishiro. I’ll show you a whole new world. It won’t be boring for even a second. Play football with me!” Reo tries again, but Nagi only stares at him silently. 

Nagi glances at you again (why does he keep looking at you?) and Reo, ever observant, throws his pleading in your direction. 

“Please convince Nagi for me,” Reo begs. “He’ll listen to you.”

“What– I don’t–”

“We’re friends,” Reo wheedles. “Come on.”

Well. It wasn’t as if you wanted Nagi to go back to his old slacker ways, and maybe spending time with Reo would open up Nagi’s narrow world, just a bit more. “Nagi, why don’t you try it? You did really well at the sports meet. It’d be a waste to do nothing with your talent.”

“... Is football fun?” Nagi asks.

“Really fun!” Reo replies.

“And… it’s something that people have to try hard at?”

“Most people! You might be able to skate by without even practicing, though, since you’re a genius,” Reo says. “Not that I’m going to let you slack on the field, or off it.”

“Huh… no wonder the two of you get along…” he mutters, before turning the full force of his attention on you. “Is working hard, and doing your best at something… is it really that fun?”

“Huh? Well, yeah! I want to be the best I can be, and winning the relay race felt really good,” you say. “Didn’t you feel anything when you won the football match?”

“Dunno, but… hm…” You can see the rusty gears turning in his head. “I’ll go with you,” Nagi says finally to Reo. “I’ll try joining your team… but…” He points at you. “They have to come with me.” 

“Huh? I’m not even good at sports,” you say defensively. “I have too much on my plate to–”

“Deal!” Reo interjects. “They can come to all our practices and games, even if they don’t join the team! Don’t go back on your word, Nagi Seishiro.”

And to your utter bafflement, you find yourself attending Nagi and Reo’s football games. Nagi, whose attitude you’re just starting to crack, suddenly turns back to an utter alien. Why did you have to attend their practices? Nagi seems content just to have you there, and Reo calls you a “lucky charm,” because apparently Nagi is more motivated when you’re around. 

Sure, you pick up on enough of the terminology and mechanics of the game to bounce strategies with Reo, but you doubt you really need to be there when they have a seasoned coach. Why had Nagi really accepted Reo’s offer, too? So many mysteries surrounded him.

When you ask, Nagi only says vaguely that he accepted Reo’s offer because “he wants to learn what it means to try his best” and you have to be here because “he needs you around.” And then he failed to elaborate when you pressed him.

Truly, Nagi’s behavior doesn’t fit with anyone you’ve ever met before. How can you start to untangle the threads of his random whims? It’s impossible… which is why it leads to odd moments, like during the latest football game Reo organized.

“Nagi, what are you doing?”

Reo's exasperated voice rings out across the field. And, with the screen flashing a score of 5-0 overhead, and curious audience members staring at you and Nagi at the bench below, you can't help but find yourself echoing his sentiments. The star of your school's most recent football match is standing right in front of you, bent at a 90 degree angle so he's looking straight at the ground, his fluffy hair shoved right in front of your face.

“Nagi, what are you doing?” you say, hands still clasped together mid-clap.

“I won the game,” he says matter-of-factly.

“You did! Congratulations!”

But Nagi still doesn't move. In the distance, Reo raises his eyebrows at you, and you shrug your shoulders helplessly. Nagi, with his alien tendencies, is incomprehensible at this moment. As soon as Nagi had scored the winning shot and the timer counted to zero, he dodged all his cheering teammates and made a beeline straight to where you were sitting, bending into a strange position. And he’s been like this for the past three minutes, without any explanation. 

“I won the game,” he repeats.

“I know. I was watching.”

“So you should compliment me,” Nagi says patiently, as if he were explaining a math equation to a small child.

“Huh? But I did,” you protest. “I congratulated you.”

“You should compliment me,” he says again.

This conversation could run around in circles all day. Your eyes drift to Nagi's hair, white strands sticking up in all directions. It's always messy because the only time a comb touched his head was when you were the one using it to brush his hair. Then it hits you out of the blue. No way. Did he want you to…? There’s only one way to find out.

Your hand sinks into his hair as you pat him on the head. It's just as soft as it looks, if not a bit sweaty from exercise. One pat, two pats, and then you quickly extract your hand before you lose yourself in the addicting feeling of stroking his hair. “You did a good job, Nagi. I'm proud of you.”

Nagi finally looks up, satisfied, even if the expression on his face doesn't change a bit. He tilts his head when he sees you shaking your hand slightly. “What are you doing?”

"You're sweaty," you inform him. "Next time, you only get head pats if you take a shower first."

A frown grows across Nagi's face before he drops his chin on the top of your head, arms wrapping around you and draping himself over you as if he had no strength left in his body. You shriek at the sudden, sweaty contact, nose crushed right against his jersey.

“Nagi! Cut it out!”

“Don't wanna. Too much work.”

“And it's not too much work to lean on me like this?” you ask, voice muffled from being pressed against his body.

His arms tighten around you. “Nope.”

"Nagi, you're suffocating them," Reo says, his voice startling close. He must have moved across the field while you were caught up with Nagi.

“They're okay,” Nagi says.

“No, he's right. I can’t breathe right now,” you say dryly.

Nagi loosens his grip around you, but his chin still rests on your head.

“Nagi, we need to talk about our next game,” Reo says expectantly.

“Don't wanna.”

Reo shoots you a pleading glance from around Nagi’s back. “Nagi, go with Reo to talk about your next game,” you order.

“Do I have to?” Nagi shuffles back just enough for you to see his unhappy expression, your head finally freed from his touch.

“Yes,” you and Reo both say at the same time.

“Fine,” he replies. Reo, triumphant, grabs Nagi's arm before he can make a sudden dash, and mouths a thank you before hauling Nagi away. Nagi, for his part, throws you forlorn glances as Reo drags him away, but you only wave at him, smiling.

When the two of them are gone and most of the audience has dispersed, only you and the chilly autumn sunshine remain. The wind, which hadn't been quite so cold before, is strong enough to make you pull your coat tighter around yourself.

Nagi Seishiro is the human equivalent to one of the world’s unsolvable math equations. Though the formula looks simple in theory, there’s simply no way of understanding it– or understanding him. His lackadaisical method of communication doesn’t make it any easier, either. You can’t tell if he’s genuinely obtuse, or if he doesn’t notice that other people can’t track his thought process without communication– or maybe he thinks it’s too much of a bother to try.

But you’re used to his strangeness, though– or at least, you thought you were used to it, until your classmates approached you with wide eyes and giggly whispers one day, asking if the rumors were true. 

“You’re dating Nagi?” they’d asked. “The guy who’s winning all our school’s football games?”

“What?” you hissed. “Who told you that?”

“Nagi himself,” one of the girls said excitedly. “I heard someone ask him why he’s been hanging out with you so much, and he said that was because he’s your partner! Is it true? Are you two dating?”

“It’s not,” you said firmly. “It really isn’t!” you added when the girls looked at you doubtfully. Your heart sank, because if these girls were approaching you, then that’d meant the rumors had spread around the entire school already. If there’s one thing your classmates liked to do, it was gossip.

That’s how you end up dragging Nagi to the roof after school, running up the empty staircase and through streaks of lazy sunshine until you’re back where it all started, the space you onced shared like two planets orbiting the same sun, never interacting.

Now, standing across from the culprit of all the rumors, you tilt your head at Nagi, who tilts his head in the same direction as a response. His sleepy eyes bore into your own, tracking your movements like a puppy.

“Nagi, have you been telling people I’m your partner?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you doing that?”

“Because it’s true,” he says. 

“But…! People have been saying we’re dating!”

Nagi tilts his head. “Oh. It was too much of a pain to correct them. I said we were partners, and then they started giggling, saying stuff like ‘I knew it! They’re dating!’ and left before I could say anything else. Is it bad that they think we’re dating?”

“It is! Because it’s not true at all!”  

“We study together and game together ,” he says. “And help each other out. And spend all our time together. So aren’t we partners?”

“Well… this and that are two different things… Being someone’s romantic partner and being someone’s platonic partner are… they’re not the same. I’m just saying, you only date someone you like romantically!”

“Oh. Well, I like you,” he says simply. “So then it’s okay for us to date.”

You feel like someone has just shot you into outer space without a map, and you’re floating around, trying to get your bearings without gravity for the first time. “Huh?”

“I like you,” he repeats. “So, then it’s okay for people to think we’re dating, right? Oh. We could start dating for real, and then that would also clear up the rumors.”

Dating… Dating Nagi? He looks satisfied, nodding to himself as if he’s figured out a particularly complicated equation, but you’re more lost than ever. Romance? Love? Those thoughts have never even crossed your mind. You figured you’d get to them eventually, but the most important thing in your life was success. You weren’t ready yet! You don’t have a plan prepared! Besides, why would he like you? When did feelings have time to grow? If anything, shouldn’t Nagi be annoyed with you for interrupting his peaceful lifestyle?

You can’t map this situation at all. You have no previous references to draw back on other than the girls and boys who asked Reo out throughout the years. Romance should be simple, you’d thought as Reo chased his admirers off. Romance should be simple, and easy, something you can chart and track and understand. There should be a formula to it, just like everything else in life.

“I don’t have time to date,” you say. “I have to focus on my priorities, like… like getting into a good university.”

Nagi shrugs. “Oh. We can date when we’re in university, then.”

“But…!”

“Do you not like me?” he asks seriously.

You open your mouth, but you can’t think of any of a proper rebuttal. You should just say no, but… did you really not like Nagi? Not at all? Not when he went along with your plans, defended you during sports day, wanted you at all his games, and told you he liked you, no games, no pretense, no calculations?

“... I can’t answer that,” you say lamely. 

“Then take your time,” he says.

“But…”

“I like you,” he says. “But if you don’t like me or you don’t want to date, then I’m okay with just being by your side.”

Why couldn’t such a simple answer ever come so easily to you, like it does to Nagi? “It’s weird,” you say quietly, looking down at your feet, “It’s weird not understanding my feelings. I want to understand everything. I wish it were easy.”

“But isn’t it tiring thinking so hard all the time? Sometimes, you can’t think through something. You just have to deal with it,” Nagi says slowly. “But… I like the part of you that tries hard and wants to do everything you can.”

Maybe it’s the sunlight, or the bright blue sky behind him, but Nagi is so brilliant your eyes are drawn to him. Is this what he meant, back during sports day, about shining so brightly he couldn’t look away?

“Stop telling people we’re dating, though,” you grumble.

“Yes, boss.”

—

Mikage Reo, someone you once thought was your friend, is laughing at you. He’s laughing at you, and everytime you think he’s stopped, he takes one look at you and bursts out laughing again. Mercifully, at least, there’s no one in the classroom to witness your humiliation.

“You really think you could make a plan for your love life, like how you plan for classes?” he snickers. “You know, relationships are a lot more complicated than you give them credit for.”

“Hey! In most cases, there is a set pattern to romance.”

“A pattern? Set by who?” Reo asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Well… in the books I’ve read… and video games I’ve played… I think there’s a common–”

“From stories! Not from real people? Do you know real life is different from books?” Reo cuts in. “Emotions don’t operate on a cut and dry principle.”

“But there is rationality behind emotions,” you argue. “The way people react to certain situations, according to their personality and environment, and–”

“You’re a nerd,” Reo says bluntly. “You can’t predict everything, you know.”

“I can try,” you say blithely, but Reo rolls his eyes. 

“Poor Nagi,” Reo says with a sigh. “This is what happens when he actually tries hard at something!”

“Poor me. I can’t believe he started telling people we were dating without asking me first,” you grumble, and Reo starts laughing again. 

“The two of you are hilarious,” he says, wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. “I haven’t laughed so hard in ages.”

“At least someone is enjoying this.”

 Reo pats you on the back. “But don’t you think you’re underestimating Nagi?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You keep trying to quantify him, but are you really listening to what he’s saying?” Reo asks. “Can’t you just accept that there are some things you won’t understand?”

“But–”

“Do you really not know how you feel about him?” Reo presses. “Don’t string him along. Reject him, or go out with him, but you can’t make him wait to sort out your feelings forever.”

“I know! I know that. But…” You scuff at the floor with your shoe. Reo is right, as loath as you are to admit it. It’s not fair to Nagi to make him wait. And… maybe Nagi isn’t the alien here. Maybe you are, because you’ve tried so hard to turn everything into precise data points so you can understand the human beings around you and the planet you inhabit. Maybe that’s your only option to stave off the fear and the vulnerability the complete randomness of the universe creates.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk to you,” Reo says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt either, you know. But you can’t keep running forever.”

“I’m not running,” you say.

Reo hums, but then nods to himself, as if coming to a decision. “Do you know why Nagi joined the football team?”

“Because we pestered him into joining?” you grumble.

“No. He told me it’s because he wanted to be more like you.”

“Like me…?”

“He admires you for having goals,” Reo says simply. “For always trying your best. And he wants to understand what it’s like to care so much about something. He wants to learn how to understand you, which is amazing, don’t you think? He doesn’t really seem like the guy who’s ever put much effort into anything before.”

He joined because he admired you? You feel a strange heat in your chest. Nagi, who’s trying to understand something. And you, who has to stop trying to understand everything. What a strange pair you make.

Reo smiles slightly, but you can’t help but find it unbearably smug, the meddler. Why did he have to say the right words to send your thoughts spiraling? “Why don’t you try looking at this from a different angle? What sort of guys do you like?” Reo says abruptly.

“Successful and rich guys,” you say automatically.

“You like successful and rich guys?” Nagi says, and both you and Reo whirl around at the sudden intrusion into your classroom. How much has he heard? You’re panicking as Nagi raises a hand in greeting, but he suddenly frowns. Oh no. Oh no– but he promptly marches over and snatches Reo’s hand off your shoulder, patting off imaginary specks of dust.

“Petty…” Reo mutters, but neither of you acknowledge him.

“What are you doing here?” you say.

“I wanted to see you,” Nagi replies.

You kick Reo’s leg just as he starts shooting you self-satisfied glances. Reo winces, then lightly jabs you in the ribs with his elbow.

“Don’t hit them,” Nagi says to Reo.

“Huh? But they kicked me first!”

Nagi shrugs. “That’s okay.” 

“I don’t like this double standard. You’re ganging up on me,” Reo accuses.

“That’s your problem,” you tell Reo loftily.

Nagi calls your name softly. “Are you free on the weekend?”

“Yes. Oh, did you want to study for the history test together?” you ask, grateful for a change in subject.

“Test?” 

“... I’ll be there on Sunday afternoon.”

“Okay, boss,” Nagi says.

With nothing left to discuss, you all start your separate paths home. Reo flashes you one last thumbs up before the three of you part. “Good luck!” he calls. 

“Thanks,” you say. Because like it or not, this weekend is going to be the first time you’re alone with Nagi after his confession. 

—

On the weekend, you take the subway to Nagi’s house. The ride is only twenty minutes, but you spend the entire time leaning your forehead against the cool glass of the window, scenery flashing by in a muted blur. What’s going to happen? You haven’t even responded to Nagi’s confession yet, and your heart drums nervously in your chest. 

But Nagi’s house, you discover, is surprisingly ordinary. When you ring the doorbell, it takes a few seconds for him to amble down, wrinkled clothes and sloppy hair revealing that he just crawled out of bed.

“Welcome,” he says, and leans over as you run your fingers through his hair, causing the strands to spike up. Soft and silky, despite the fact he puts zero effort into its maintenance. 

“Do you even know what I’m here for?”

“... To game?”

“To study!” you correct, shooing him back inside. You take off your shoes at the entryway, changing into house slippers, and the two of you settle down in the living room. There’s only a couch, a low table and a rug, and a television set in the corner. It’s sparse but clean, so it’s possible Nagi has to hire someone to clean his house, because you doubt he does it on his own.

You pile your textbooks on the table, folding your legs underneath yourself as you flip through your notes. “So… did you study for the test next week?”

“We have a test?” Nagi says, picking up your pencil case.

You slap his hand. “Yes! In history. Did you forget already? I just told you last Friday!”

“You were going to come over, so… I was too excited. I forgot.”

“Am I just supposed to remember everything for you? You need to take initiative,” you say, exasperated, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. So he’d been excited to see you? No, those sorts of thoughts were irrelevant. “Look through the textbook. I marked everything I thought might be on the test.” You slide the book to Nagi, who dutifully picks it up before immediately lying on his side.

“Sit up. You’ll get a headache,” you say, and Nagi slides back into a cross-legged position, resting the book on his lap.

It’s quiet except for the scratching of your pencil and the rustle of pages. When you glance at Nagi to check his process, he’s diligently looking through the textbook, absorbed into reading each section you carefully marked. He’s oblivious to the emotional turmoil that you’re experiencing just by sitting across a table from him; how had you been able to act so casually before? Now, you’re hyper-aware of his presence, his soft sighs, his loose posture, the eyelashes shading across his cheeks.

Out of the blue, Nagi speaks. “You said I can ask you if I have any questions, right?”

You hum, tracing your finger down the text you highlighted. “Yes. Got a question about a passage?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Can I tell you that you’re cute?”

“That’s… that’s not related to studying,” you try to scold, but your voice is weak even to your own ears.

“Sorry. But I didn’t know if I was allowed to tell you or not,” Nagi says.

“I…” You try to stand, try to find an excuse to leave the room for a second, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in the same cramped position for so long. You stumble, and Nagi, moving faster than you’ve ever seen him, is by your side in a heartbeat.

“Are you okay?” he says, and his concerned face is hovering inches from your own. Somehow, you ended up sliding on the floor, Nagi’s arms caging you in on both sides. Your face is on fire, and somehow, you still have a tight grip on your notes. You nod, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes linger on your lips.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Nagi says. He leans in closer, and you squeak, raising your notes to block his lips. His eyes are earnest, gaze fixed solely on you, like you’re the only person in his world.

“Well… that’s not…”

“I can wait for you,” he says quietly, “But you told me not to run away from you. So don’t run away from me, either.” 

Your cheeks are burning. There’s no more excuses left. You had already run out of them, long ago. “You can. But I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you murmur. “Reo is the one with all the experience–”

“Call me by my first name,” Nagi interrupts.

“What?”

“You call Reo by his first name,” he says. “Call me by mine, too. It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“That’s so childish!”

“I’m not moving until you do,” Nagi says stubbornly.

“Fine.” You take a breath. “S… Seishiro. Is that better?”

“Yeah.” His hands grip your wrists gently, the touch sending shockwaves through your entire nervous system.

The notebook flutters to the floor as Nagi leans in to kiss you. Like everything he does seriously, it brims with an intensity that steals your breath away. He tastes sweet, like the candy he snacks on, and you cup his face, pulling him closer. 

When you break apart, Nagi rests his forehead against yours. “It’s a lot of work,” he says, “but I’m thinking of playing football professionally.”

“Really? Wow! You have the talent to pull it off,” you say. “Reo finally convinced you to go pro?”

“You said you liked successful guys,” Nagi says simply. “So I have to work hard to be successful.”

“I did! But Seishiro…” You kiss him again, because he’s just so cute, and murmur against his lips, “Forget about my type. The only guy I like is you.”

[masqueradereveler21]

Hogwarts Legacy Character Sheet - Gwendolen Hedera (Edited)

General Information

Full Name: Gwendolen Hedera

Nicknames: Gwen, Wendy, The Hero of Hogwarts, The New Fifth Year

Gender: Female

Date of Birth: April 26th, 1875

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Personality Type (MBTI): INTJ - The Architect

Species: Human

Blood Status: Unregistered

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Nationality: Welsh

House: Slytherin

Wand: Fir wood with a phoenix feather core, 11 3/4”, rigid flexibility

Patronus: Stoat

Boggart: The mutilated corpse of Professor Fig

Amortentia: Bread pudding, wax candles, old books, fresh linen

Physical Appearance

Hair Colour & Style: Black; occasionally wears down but is most often seen sporting it braided or in a ponytail.

Eye Colour: Grey

Skin Tone: Olive with neutral undertones

Height: 167cm (5’6”)

Weight: 55kg (121 lbs)

Clothing Style: Neat and presentable; favors skirts, ruffled blouses, vests, and heeled boots. Almost never wears her robes.

Accessories: Black painted finger nails. A necklace gifted to her from Natty.

Personality

Positive Traits: Adaptable, determined, loyal, resilient, compassionate, curious, diligent

Neutral Traits: Independent, reserved, ambitious, rational, observant, competitive

Negative Traits: Arrogant, cunning, stubborn, sarcastic, defiant

Strengths: Capable of thinking outside the box and extremely quick-witted

Weaknesses: Thinks she knows what’s best and struggles to let people in

Likes: Cats, Summoner’s Court, Quidditch, organization, leadership, exploring the highlands, reading

Dislikes: Spiders, Gobstone’s, dugbogs, failure, meat, laziness, clutter

Background and Family

Gwendolen Hedera was born on April 26th, 1875, in South Wales to parents of unknown wizarding heritage. At the age of five, Gwendolen was in a carriage accident which tragically took her parents lives and left her with amnesia. She was ultimately raised at Mission of Love, a Muggle monastery that housed young orphans and disabled elderly. During her time there, she was subjected to verbal, mental, and occasionally physical abuse, though she did find some solace in the older people there who treated her kindly. Once she grew old enough, she was shuffled from household to household trying to find a place to call home, though her “poor behavior” and lack of discipline always lead her back to the monastery. It wasn’t until she was fourteen that Gwendolen found herself whisked away by Professor Eleazar Fig, never to be seen again.

After Professor Fig’s death, she found herself under the guardianship of Matilda Weasley, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration professor. It took some convincing from Ominis for Gwen to accept the offer, and she kept herself at arms length in the beginning, fearing that Professor Weasley would abandon her when things became too difficult. During the summer between her fifth and sixth year, she met the rest of the Weasley clan and grew closer to Garreth Weasley, who she begrudgingly helped with his experiments. With time, she came to view Professor Weasley in a maternal light (the feeling was mutual on Matilda’s part).

Biological Father: Unknown (Deceased)

Biological Mother: Unknown (Deceased)

Guardian/Adoptive Parent: Matilda Weasley

Adoptive Uncles: Graham Weasley, Phillip Weasley

Adoptive Aunts: Dorothy Weasley (née Button), Lydia Weasley (née Hawthorne)

Adoptive Cousins: Theodore Weasley, Oscar Weasley, Garreth Weasley, Florence Weasley, Millicent Weasley, Francis Weasley, Edmund Weasley

Relationships

Love Interest: Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow…ehh its complicated…

Best Friends: Natsai Onai, Poppy Sweeting, Garreth Weasley, Imelda Reyes, Amit Thakkar

Acquaintances: Nerida Roberts, Grace Pinch-Smedley, Lucan Brattleby, Isaac Cooper, Adelaide Oakes

Rivals: Leander Prewett, Charlotte Morrison, Samantha Dale

Enemies: Ranrok, Victor Rookwood, Theophilus Harlow, Ashwinders, Cassius Caine (OC), Elspeth Iris (OC)

Pets: Vivarium beasts, eleven cats, a barn owl named Minerva

• Artwork done by the incredible @millyillus •

[moonstruckme]

https://www.tumblr.com/moonstruckme/742320236814041088/dude-we-know-that-peter-makes-his-own-suit-right?source=share

Well, gender neutral is fine by me. Actually, I just like to read your fic, so I have no problem with the gender part. As long it's you who write it. I'm 100% sure you'll rock it

Thank you sweetheart! Hope you like it :)

tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader ♡ 733 words

Morning light is pouring in through the cracks in Peter’s blinds, laying itself out in slats over the floor and reaching for the opposite wall, when you stumble out of the bathroom. It’s a signifier of your ill fate. 

“Fuck, shit,” you mumble to yourself, putting a piece of bread in the toaster and grabbing your lunch from the fridge. You know you’ve half-assed fixing your hair and you’ve still got crust around your eyes, but appearances are no longer the priority. 

When Peter pads out of the bedroom, stretching his arms over his head with his plaid pajama bottoms just grazing the floor, you’ve got one shoe on and your toast clenched between your teeth like a bit. You think you probably look sleep-addled and half rabid, but his brown hair looks adorably mussed and the buttery morning light kisses his skin like it likes him best. He smiles at you, soft and lazy. 

“Late start again?”

Your response is muffled by the toast in your mouth. Peter carefully pinches it between two fingers and removes it so you can speak. 

“One more time?” 

“I said,” you huff, not at him but at your adrenaline-cursed fingers as they fumble your shoelaces, “that not all of us have cushy jobs with flexible hours.”

“Sorry.” He sounds like he half means it, crouching down beside you to thumb at your chin with his free hand. “Hold on, you’ve got toothpaste.”

You don’t know if it’s a ruse and you don’t really care, the soft warmth of his lips connecting with yours is plenty good enough for you. You tug the knot on your shoe tight as you pull away, taking your toast back from him. 

“You got your lunch?” Peter asks you, rising and going for the coffee machine. 

“Mhm,” you say through a bite. 

“Water?” 

You swallow, shouldering your bag. “Yup.” 

“Good, good.” He leans against the counter as the coffee machine rumbles to life, regarding you with still-sleepy eyes. “Actually, c’mere. I need another.” 

“I really have to go,” you laugh, but oblige him, darting over for another quick peck.

Peter does his best to draw it out, palming your face and kissing your bottom lip softly, but you drag yourself away. You try not to think too hard about the light scratch of his stubble against your chin as you grab your keys from by the door. 

“One more,” he begs. 

“You can have it later.” 

“Wait—hold on just a sec.” 

“No, I actually have to go.” 

You go for the door handle, but webbing attaches itself to your wrist, forcing your hand away. You look at your boyfriend, incredulous. 

“Pete! I’m seriously gonna be late.” 

“No, I know, I know.” He hustles toward you, taking your arm in his hand. “But your shirt’s messed up, baby.” 

“What?” You look down, and your sleeve is torn from your wrist to halfway up your forearm. “Shit.” 

“It’s all good,” Peter reassures you, peeling the sticky webbing off you before backing away towards your bedroom. “Just take it off.” 

You do, clumsy fingers nearly ripping out the buttons as you go. “I totally forgot, I snagged this on a door handle last week.” You’ve already taken your arm out of one sleeve when you freeze. “Peter? I don’t have any other work tops.” 

“Easy, I gotcha.” He comes back in with one of your other tops, the one you’d burnt a hole in the back of last week. “You can wear this, I just finished with it.” 

“Yes!” You grab it, pecking him on the lips euphorically. “Thank you!” 

“No sweat.” Your boyfriend sounds smug, but given the circumstances you think you can allow it. He picks up the other shirt from where you’ve dumped it on the floor. “I’ll fix this one while you’re at work today so you can have it for tomorrow, cool?” 

“That would be so cool,” you agree, hastily buttoning up the replacement top before shouldering your bag again. “Thanks, Pete. Are you sure you have time for that?” 

He shrugs, chucking the torn shirt onto the couch. “One of the perks of having a cushy job with flexible hours,” he says. 

You groan, and Peter laughs, catching your chin one more time before you get out the door. This time, you indulge him in a longer kiss. You’ll definitely be late, but you figure he’s earned it.

[moralesluvr]

Hii. So I had this idea where it’s (e-1610) miles saving Reader from something and when he finally looks at her he immediately becomes attracted towards her (like love a first sight thing) and gets all shy and cute

love at first sight ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: miles morales x fem!black!reader, college au, cafe au. ♡ summary: after getting hit on after walking home from work, your friendly neighborhood spiderman is here to save you-- and he‘s stunned when he sees you. ♡ warnings: none jus fluff! ♡ a/n: this is so extremely self indulgent because i wear glasses and i was just visualizing this the whole time LOLLL ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

YOUR SAGE-TINTED FINGERNAILS PINCH around the soft material of your apron, a broken sigh tumbling off of your reddened lips as you placed it on the coat rack in the back of your workplace. Another huff leaves you, this time of relief, eyes darting to the clock that resides on the wall. It reads, it digital numerals, '10:22.'

You should've closed twenty minutes ago, but of course, some of your avid regulars insisted that they needed a coffee or slide of banana bread right as you had grabbed the broom from the back, ready to shut the cafe down. But you couldn't complain because you were at least happy that you had the next couple of days off, so you let your worries roll off of your t-shirt clad shoulders, grabbing your purse and keys from your work cubbie and switching off the lights.

Keys jingling as you step outside, you stick a golden one into the hole that's below the door's handle, locking it and beginning your walk down the street.

A shiver courses through your veins, your body not quite adjusted to the sweet, yet wintry cold that summoned goosebumps on your bare forearms. You hugged yourself and tucked the sides of your coat in, throwing your Coach bag over your shoulders as the pretty lights of Brooklyn advocated for your lack of vision.

The cafe that you worked at was the only place you could earn money and also enjoy. Your boss was one the upperclassmen that you knew from your university, which really helped because she always gave you days off and flexible work hours. All your co-workers were just close friends or classmates-- plus, you loved to bake, so it really was a genuine place of interest.

You're humming one of your favorite songs down the block when you reach a strip of shops. There's a pub nearby and you always hold your breath when you pass it-- because it's not so much a bar, but more of a place where teenagers hang out and smoke or drink ill-tasting beer. Usually you're safe passing through, but that wasn't necessarily the case tonight.

A boy that you recognize from your university stumbles out of the place, eyes reddened and droopy as he stopped you in your tracks. He smirked at you, "Why're you walkin' all by yourself? Need some company?"

Pushing a curl back behind your ear, he beams a smile at you, one that makes your stomach feel uneasy as you slowly moved his hand back down to his side.

"No, Aaron, I don't. I...have a boyfriend." You lied through your teeth. You definitely didn't, but you needed a valid excuse as to why you didn't want this creep taking you home.

"I think you do need some company, though, pretty thing." He insists, pushing himself closer to you, a laugh sounding from his throat. "I don't see your boyfriend. What kind of man would leave his girl alone at night, walking down the streets of New York?" His hands find home on your waist and you let out a squeal, "Stop!"

Although it's no use. He continues, trying to learn into your lips as you fight his tight embrace. But he's stronger, and you genuinely think that you're a goner until a tall figure in a-

Spider-Man?

He comes literally out of nowhere, standing in front of Aaron as he grabbed both of his arms, removing his grip on you. The masked vigilante twists his hands behind his back and he screams, biting his lip, "This your pathetic boyfriend, huh? Some idiot playing around in a mask?"

Spider-Man says nothing to that, except he just shoots a web at Aaron's hands, pinning them behind his back. He then flips him around and webs his mouth, moving closer to him. He whispers against his skin, "Shut up."

Aaron's eventually pinned to the brickwork of the pub's walls, when Spider-Man finally turns to look at you. You're smiling, even though anxiety is still pumping through your blood, "Thank you, Spider...Spider-man?"

He just stares at you.

You're so pretty, curls tucked back in a ponytail with some loose ones hanging against your dark glasses frames. You're clad in a leather jacket and a pair of ankle-high boots, a pretty skirt resting on your thighs. The moonlight glows against your brown skin, and he finds his mouth dry because it's wide open.

You cock an eyebrow at him, "Spider-Man? Are you okay?"

And although he longs to say something, to get the words out, he can't help but give you one last glance as he finds himself webbing to a wall, swinging away without saying a word.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @wisepoetrycheesecake // @clearskiiiess // @d3atht3hek1d // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @caulifloweron // @aizawassimpblog // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @ishqani // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @mhadnirb // @mmst4rz // @iris-theflower // @fleurrieerecs // @kenlani // @kala2022 // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @evacowan // @popeheywardssecretgf // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae // @luci1fer

[hillbillyoracle]

quick life tips that aren't worthy of a whole post

Your to-do lists are menus, not marching orders. I've gotten so much out of doing a weekly brain dump and then just selecting a few things out of it. Like "here are all the things I could do, not I'll pick a few that would improve my life in a meaningful way and a few that I just want to, the rest can chill". Unless you achieve enlightenment, we all die with unfinished business. It's chill. You're not a failure. It's just an option.

Create a capsule menu of shelf stable and long lasting fridge foods for when you don't feel like menu planning. Like a capsule wardrobe. Cooking oil is like your underwear, it's a base necessity. Then 3 sources of protein, 3 sources of fiber, 3 sources of volume. For us, proteins are canned chicken, eggs, and yogurt. Fiber is frozen vegetable mix, chia seeds, and legumes. Volume is rice, frozen bread, or oatmeal. Pick three spice mixes (Taco, Curry, and Cajun for us) and mix and match. Add some fun items like cheese, jam, and a condiment or two. Mix and match, throw something together. You can even roll on a dice table for it.

Morale items aren't pointless or wasteful. I spent entirely too much on coffeemonsterzco stickers recently. Guess who's updated their bullet journal and memory keeping calendar for several weeks now? Me. Guess who's already had it uncover and recontextualize medical issues? Also me. It's not pointless. Get the damn stickers.

Listing three good things everyday/gratitude is not overblown hype. It's not meant to dismiss negative feelings or even make you feel good - it helps you correct for you brain's negativity bias and create cognitive flexibility which in turn improves resilience and decision making. Way too many people get the wrong read on it. It's genuinely helped me lately even through some real unfun shit.

[mybuginette]

i was bored today so here are my headcanons

Marinette:

She likes puzzles

Marinette can understand english but can't speak it

Chat made a joke about the irony of her superhero name being in english

Adrien teach her english and mandarin

has adhd

born in 2001

she did gymnastic (like in the movie) but gave it up

she's too flexible

her parents still keep her childhood toys

all her barbies were weird barbies

Sabine made a journal when Mari was born in which each day she described what her day with baby Mari was like.

Swiftie

loves Mitski

has played Amour Sucre

In universe, "Ladybug pv" and "Here comes Ladybug" are real songs inspired by the heroine

drives motorcycle when she's older

also she is going to have more than one piercing in her ears.

plays Animal Crossing

tries to learn k-pop dances

support Free Britney

her body is full of bruises (for all her falls for being clumsy)

for the same reason, the screen of her phone is broken

smell like bread

Adrien:

He did a cover of 'Line without a hook' in piano

Actually he used to post some covers of songs in YouTube but gave it up

has written some songs

He can understand french, english, mandarin, morse, and is learning japanese

Interviewer: wow, your english is so good

Adrien half british: ...yeahh

bro is Lana Del Rey coded

watch death note when he's depressed

fan of spy x family

superfan of Sailor Moon

when he was a child his favorite book was The little prince

He likes to braid Mari's hair

ABBA fan

Lady Gaga fan

He and Mari exercise together

He uses face masks for skin care

Extremely photogenic

When Adrien was a little boy he was in one of barney's episodes

he was in the top of the 100 most beautiful faces

has a 3 years streak in duolingo

[xerith-42]

MCD Fighting Style breakdown

for @gonedreaminggg as a treat. I took your initial list, added a few ideas I came up with, had a breakdown, Bone apple teeth!

- Laurance: As seen in canon Laurance mainly uses a single large sword, though in his early appearances he uses a sword and a shield. I feel like Laurance has trained in multiple styles of combat to varying degrees. He's really good with a single sword of any size, and he can fight sword and shield. His dual wielding is lacking and he can tell every time he watches Dante fight. A lot of Laurance's movements are very basic forms of sword combat with slight variations and flare. Laurance is really light on his feet, so much so that when he really gets into a fight, it almost looks like he's gliding sometimes.

- Garroth: An absolute tank. Fuck what canon says here, Garroth has trained exclusively in fighting with a sword and shield. It is his bread and butter. His ass would not know what to do with a second sword, and nobody really tried to train him in anything else because he's so good at what he does. Garroth can and will always take the hits, he's a barbarian who manages to suppress the rage until he's forced to multiclass into paladin thanks to the relic. Always on the front lines, so good at throwing himself into danger, he wants to die a warriors death and go to Valhalla and both Aph and Laurance are like "Garroth please stop."

- Dante: Dual Wielding jack ass my beloved. Dual wielding isn't a super common style of combat just because it requires so much coordination and there's definitely a quantity over quality problem with guards in Ru'aun. Dante studies an unconventional style of fighting to stand out, and it works. He's super limber and flexible, at least when he's a teenager, and he's fast as fuck. Dante will absolutely be the one getting insane hit combos and doing like 8 attacks per round. He loves bragging about this so much, even though he has to slow down a little as he gets older and his body can't quite move the way it used to.

- Aphmau: Oh Aphmau... Can I call you Aph? You poor thing. In my brain Aph is partially trained by Garroth and Zenix in her early days, but she also just has some really good instincts from being Irene's reincarnation. She learns basic archery from Zenix, and a lot of basics in sword fighting from Garroth. She tends to prefer one lightweight weapon, though she does learn to get comfortable with larger weapons. She's shorter than a lot of her opponents so she likes having a lighter weapon that let's her move fast and go for the fucking knees. She does not fuck around in a fight, she will go straight for the kill. All the guards have some sort of honor/respect for their opponents. She doesn't. She will fucking kill you.

- Travis: Travis is the jack of all trades. You put a weapon in his hand and he knows how to use it. He's not particularly great with any one weapon, and he never has a preference. He was taught to always have his guard up and always be able to defend himself, so Travis is much more comfortable with being given a weapon and using it instead of having a preference. He carries a long sword with him everywhere he goes, but that's just in case he can't get his grubby little paws on something else. He also uses potions a lot more in battle than anyone else thinks to, so he's able to make up for any shortcomings in his fighting.

- Katelyn: Punch people at the perfect weak points of their body. Katelyn has done a lot of study into human anatomy and medicine, and she knows all the weak points of the body for taking someone out in a certain way. Want a quick knockout? There's a pressure point on the back of the neck she can hit while blindfolded. Want to make someone winded? Hit them in the solar plexus. Katelyn has honed her body for this style of fighting, she is ripped as fuck, and while she isn't the fastest fighter, mostly due to her still wearing armor, her strikes are powerful enough to make up for it.

- Lucinda: Evil!! She uses her witchcraft obviously, which I have a lot of thoughts about. I think it's basically being a prepared/component caster, so how well she does in a fight depends on what components she brings into it. But Lucinda literally has like three bags of holdings, she can always whip up something to kick your ass. And if she can't, her staff is definitely made out of some ancient tree and she'll just sweep people off their feet with it and then concuss them with the giant curved end of it. She prefers to take people down non-lethally if possible, especially because witchcraft is very susceptible to accidentally killing people, but if you hurt her friends, it's on sight,

- Zane: Despite his high position, Zane isn't particularly good with any large weapons. I always envision Zane to be somewhat lanky in his stature, and definitely the weakest out of his brothers. He doesn't want to be seen as a threat initially, and as shown in the series, he'd much prefer to find a non physically violent way to kill you. If he has to, he's always got knives hiding on his person, in his robe, in his belt, in his boots, man's always has a way to kill just in case.

- Nana: Magic in this universe is spontaneous casting, where most spells don't need active prep work, and fewer components. Like she needs her dolls as vessels and some magical energy that's naturally present in her body and she's good. I don't think Tu'la was always a safe place, and she likely learned to defend herself from a young age. But Nana isn't really good with conventional weapons like swords or bows, no, she knows how to dent your brain with a frying pan. She doesn't like being violent, but if you threaten her friends or family, she will absolutely demolish you with a cutting board.

- Vylad: The archer!! I like to think Vylad tried to spar with Garroth like once and hated it so much. He hates eye contact and getting close to people, so instead they learn how to be an absolute master of ranged combat. Vylad knows how to stab someone with a short sword in a desperate situation, but he'd much rather be perched on a tree above the battlefield and rain arrows from above. Vylad is also incredibly stealthy and faster than anyone else. So people see his perch and try to get there to take him down or have their own archers fire back, but he's already gone.

- Sasha: Sasha moves so gracefully, so fluidly, and almost enchantingly. For her fighting is a performance, she's gonna kill several people and she's gonna look good while doing it. Even when she was a trained guard she made herself stand out with an affinity for smaller curved blades that naturally assisted her fluid movements. She makes fights into an endurance test, cutting people up and whittling them down. But if she needs to kill, she knows how to do it in a single swipe and knows the weak points that guards are taught to protect, and the ones they aren't. She's such a menace :)

[vasquez-rocks]

ds9 characters by how they would react to being deaged, as in the tng episode "rascals"

sisko: would be a little annoyed by it at first, but would kind of find it cute to get to have a more sibling-ish relationship with jake temporarily. family is the most important thing!

kira: like ensign ro, i think it would bring up memories of her awful childhood. unlike ensign ro, she was an actual terrorist as a child and her current effectiveness at her job depends on people knowing that she could just shoot them if they disappoint her, so i think she’d just keep pluggin’ away and then have one (1) devastating breakdown when she’s alone with odo about how her real childhood was stolen from her.

dax: would HATE IT SO MUCH. she likes her body! she likes being tall! all her favorite things (drinking, sex, gambling) are inaccessible to children! plus the worm wouldn’t shrink with her so it would probs be really uncomfy to have it in there! fix it! make it better!

odo: he would continue to look the same because his kind does not have childhoods. “are you all right, sir?” a security officer would say after he heard sobbing from inside the security office. “it is a… private matter,” odo would say.

bashir: depends if it reverts his genetic enhancements. if it does, he’ll have Feelings. if it doesn’t, he’ll probably just try and take advantage of his newfound flexibility to improve his tennis game.

o’brien: not thrilled, but this is just what happens to o’briens, isn’t it? keiko got turned into a child back on the enterprise, molly got turned into a feral adult by the time portal. it’s been years since he felt any regret about stealing that bread from the hag back in the old country. a bloodline curse is a bloodline curse. this will work itself out soon enough. at least it’s not another mind prison thingy

quark: nothing good

[global-parachem]

Paper mailer bags are a popular and eco-friendly packaging option for businesses in Delhi and Uttar Pradesh. They are made from 100% recycled paper and are fully biodegradable, making them a sustainable alternative to plastic bags.

Not only are paper mailer bags better for the environment, but they also offer a number of benefits for businesses. They are lightweight and durable, making them easy to transport and handle. They also provide a high level of protection for the products they contain, reducing the risk of damage during shipping.

Paper mailer bags are packaging bags made from completely biodegradable and recyclable paper, which can be starch based or made from paper. These bags go by many names across the world of packaging. They are called paper courier bags, and courier bags too. When there is added security for paper mailer bags with a self- sealing adhesive, they can also be called tamper proof

[lee-aveyourmark]

pov: you're doing grocery shopping with seventeen - maknae line

∘.∙°. masterlist Warnings: mentions of food, alcohol, public affection

A/N: For legal reasons, some of this is a joke. I don't mean to undermine any of the members, so please don't misread my writing :)

mingyu Efficient. Knows what he needs to buy before entering the store, but is also flexible in changing his shopping list or meal plan if the store doesn't stock certain items. Is not afraid to ask store clerks where certain items are. Ends up inadvertently flirting with the aunties, and it takes a foreign hand on his bicep for him to quickly say his goodbyes and run back to you, whining and burying his face into your neck. Wine is a must-add to the cart. There's often a request from Seungcheol for a certain snack. Mingyu is reluctant in gratifying his hyung, and that reluctance quickly transforms into jealousy when you drop the requested item into the basket with indifference. Definitely needs you to hold his hand and stroke his hair for the next five minutes before the jealousy can dissipate.

the8 LIkes to shop at Chinese grocery stores as much as possible, since his culinary range is probably largely Chinese. You can often find this man in the tea section, browsing new leaves for his next tea ceremony and meditation session. There'll most likely be a mala-flavoured item that ends up in the cart. Enjoys introducing you to all the different spices frequently used in northern Chinese cooking and giggles at your cute pronunciation of their names. Also enjoys making conversation with the grandpas that compliment your relationship and- wait, is that Jun? You don't recall being told that he was going to be here. Oh, and now you're being sidelined and thirdwheeled as Jun drags Minghao to check out the newest instant ramen on offer.

dk Giggles, blushes and twirls his hair around his finger every five seconds because, omg, you're out buying groceries with him - how domestic! Absolutely adores taking photos of you doing literally whatever at the store - looking at items, picking items up, eating samples, pushing the cart - he's capturing it all. Tries so hard to control himself when seeing you strolling down the aisles in his oversized hoodie, but fails miserably as his lips make contact with your cheek. As our resident ray of sunshine, this man will buy food based on how cute the packaging is. I'm talking bright colours, funky fonts, and baby animal mascots. Will also choose the odd-shaped fruits and vegetables because they're "quirky" and he feels a little sorry for them.

seungkwan Is an absolute sweetheart to all of the elderly ladies slowly pushing their carts through the store. Makes conversation with them and helps them pick items off shelves that are too high for them. Also is super sweet to the children, complimenting them and playing with them. He's always closely inspecting the health foods on offer, but looks forward to seeing the pastries from the bakery next door to the supermarket. When you offer to buy him some, he adamantly refuses, makes the excuse that he was just browsing and then complains about his diet under his breath. The excitement lit across his face when trying the weekly cookie menu is something that you'll never get sick of, and you make sure to bring him grocery shopping more often.

vernon What is Chwe Hansol doing in the grocery store with you? Honestly, he's asking himself that too because this man has zero experience. The assistance he attempts to provide is based on information from the internet, and I'm talking about WikiHow articles on buying bread. Uses logic to the best of his abilities, helping to choose items based on price point. However, logic doesn't get him very far when you're asking him which brand would taste the best. Will internally freak out if you leave him in the queue to grab something, and will need a breather when you return to the line with the loaf of bread that you forgot. Always has music on, so you'll need to give him a good shake of his shoulder to grab his attention.

dino Our maknae can cook, but that doesn't translate into having sense regarding grocery shopping. If he can't track you down amongst the aisles, there's a high chance of him calling another member for help. Particularly, he'll likely call a 95-line hyung with the expectation of them fulfilling their hyung role. Alas, I'm not entirely sure if Seungcheol, Jeonghan or Joshua knows whether a three-dollar cucumber is a bargain or not. Is extremely confused when you're walking around slapping watermelons like Seungcheol would his ass amidst dance practice. Honestly, just very confused but also very curious and willing to learn lots on how to select the freshest produce so that he can impress you with a tasty homemade dish one day.