classroom observation

Potion Making

Originally posted by jasmineisabel

(Draco x reader)

Summary: Draco and reader are paired together in potions, and Draco completely messes with her the entire lesson.


I rushed down to the dungeons adjusting the heavy bag strap on my shoulder and clutching a stack of books, knowing that I was already late for potions. 

Unfortunately, as I turned the corner, I ran into none other than Draco Malfoy, sending my books in all directions across the floor.

“Well, hello there L/N.”

I groaned and quickly started picking up my books from the floor. I’d already run into him three times this morning, and I couldn’t say that it was very enjoyable.

“Leave me alone, Draco. We’re late for class.”

“It’s just potions. Boring.” He complained.

“No, not boring. Important.”

Flustered, I pulled the strands of hair out of my face and gathered up my books. 

I started heading towards class, however, Draco made this a difficult task by blocking my way, causing me to stop and glare at him.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, running out of patience.

He smirked and opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“Draco, I don’t have time for this right now, we’re so late.” 

I pushed past him and walked into the classroom, hearing him sigh before following me.

As soon as we entered, I was met by Professor’s Snape’s cold glare as I watched his eyes flicker between the two of us. 

“Professor Snape, I’m so sorry -”

“The tales of your incompetence do not interest me, Miss L/N.” He drawled coldly.

I heard Draco snigger behind me.

“…or Mister Malfoy,” continued Snape slowly. “Ten points from both your houses.”

“But -”

“Sit down before the both of you end up in detention.”

I frowned but quickly moved to the closest empty table, which happened to be at the very back of the classroom.

Unfortunately, there were two empty seats so Draco followed me and took a seat right beside me.

Snape turned around and started writing today’s instructions on the blackboard.

I could see Draco smirking out of the corner of my eye and I slapped him on the arm with my copy of Advanced Potion Making.

In return he hit me with his copy and I went to hit him back, but then Snape turned around and the both of us immediately turned back to the front, plastering innocent looks onto our faces whilst hiding our laughter.

He seemed to know that we were messing around but he probably didn’t care enough to do anything about it, because he just instructed everyone to start working.

I glance at the board.

Amortentia. In pairs.

Of course we were making amortentia. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Draco seemed to be happy about it, though I doubted that he had any idea how to brew amortentia, let alone any potion at all. 

“Would you look at that, Y/N. You and I will be brewing amortentia together.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but I couldn’t help but smile, just a bit.

We got off to a pretty good start, however brewing the potion mostly consisted of me doing it all by myself whilst Draco commentated stupid things.

We were about two thirds the way through when Snape decided to walk around the classroom and observe how everyone was going. 

I was adding in the crushed moonstone when I felt a hand along my thigh. My cheeks flushed red, and I found myself accidentally adding a pinch too many into the mixture.

Draco continued to rest his hand on my inner thigh, and I couldn’t do anything about it because at that exact moment, Snape walked by, causing me to draw in a sharp breath.

The potion started to hiss and sizzle, indicating that we’d completely messed it up. I felt my heart drop. No. Steam was supposed to be rising in spirals from it, not hissing and sputtering.

Draco started laughing at the shocked state on my face, however, Snape didn’t find it funny in the least.

I put down the flask of moonstone powder and subtly shoved Draco’s hand off my leg, hoping that Snape hadn’t realized.

“Mr Malfoy, I’m unaware if you’ve noticed, but your potion doesn’t appear to be rising in spirals of steam, which would mean that you have added too much moonstone powder.”

I shut my eyes. Malfoy stop smirking, you idiot.

“I suggest the two of you clean up this mess…”

“Yes, professor,” I replied quickly.

“… in detention.” he finished.

My mouth fell open, but before I could complain, he turned and walked off. 

“Look what you’ve done.” I turned and said to Draco.

“Don’t pretend you’re not looking forward to spending a whole hour with me this afternoon.”

“Shut it, Malfoy.”

“Only for you, princess.”

At that I kicked him under the table, which led to him kicking me back, which then led to us having a full on battle under the table whilst trying to hold back our laughter until the end of class.

The Labyrinth Chapter 3

Gasp it is here! :o

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU 

Pairing: Reader/Jimin

Word count: 4655

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12 || Jin Trailer ||

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

Plot: Finding an injured boy collapsing in front of your house, you decide to help him, only to find out he’s associated with some underground business. After that fateful night, you surprisingly find him in the new class you had just transferred into.

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hey guys (๑꒪⍘꒪๑)

i have no idea why my dash is lacking in anime/graphics right now! so..if you post any of the following, please like or reblog this post! bolded are ones i rlly love

  • haikyuu!!
  • boku no hero academia
  • sport anime
  • seasonal/current anime
  • pastel graphics/gifs
  • overwatch (bonus!!)
  • older anime: assassination classroom, free!, pmmm, mp100, etc.

thank you i would really appreciate it (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)

Submission: I'm No Girl (But I'm Still A Lady)

“Next, Team Seven. Haruno Sakura -”
“Hai, Iruka-sensei!”
“-Uchiha Sasuke-”
“…Hn…”
“- and Uzumaki Naruto.”
“Understood, Sensei.”
- - - - - - -
Iruka surveyed his classroom, observing the dynamics of the new genin teams. When he glanced at Team Seven, he wasn’t sure whether to sigh with relief or cry in despair. Sasuke was perched on a table a little ways away from his teammates, his expression colored with a mix of trepidation and disbelief. Sakura was sitting enraptured beside her other teammate, focused on whatever legend he was weaving. Last but not least, Naruto, with his perfect posture and feline grace, expression gentle and kanzashi jingling faintly with each movement as he told Sakura whatever ancient tale he had read the night before.
Sometimes, Iruka wanted to throttle Hiruzen for allowing Koharu to adopt the blond jinchūriki, because with his innate charisma and impeccable manners, he always had more of the class’s attention than Iruka himself.
- - - - - - -
Zabuza stared incredulously at the senbon sticking out of his chest, the single needle mocking him. On the shore in front of him, the blond genin with icy eyes and a neutral expression stood with four more ready.
“Leave, Momochi. You cannot best both me and my sensei. Leave, while you and your apprentice still have your lives. One dose of my poison might not kill you, but five most definitely will.”
Haku looked over at his teacher pleadingly, and Zabuza grit his teeth. “… Fine. Come on, Haku.”
- - - - - - -
Seeing Naruto in a full kimono and makeup wasn’t as jarring as it should be, thought Kakashi as he and his students meandered through the festival. He looked every bit as much a queen as Kakashi’s father had described of Uzumaki Mito.
He was shaken from his thoughts by a young chuunin - drunk and furious, by the look of him - stormed up and started shouting at Naruto.
The blond sighed slightly, before cocking back an arm and delivering a distinctly Hyuuga-esque palm strike to the man’s sternum.
The drunk collapsed, wheezing slightly, and Naruto casually stepped around him. “Come along Sasuke, Sakura. That tea shop won’t be open all night.”
Kakashi wondered distantly whether he would survive Naruto’s teenage years, and prayed that some god would take pity on him.

Adventures in Substitute Teaching: Confiscating electronics

You see, I noticed this when I read WITH my students:
1. I read along with them so I can help pronounce words.
2. While reading, sometimes the students will distract other students while my head is in the book.
3. Students will hide their cell phones in their books.

Then I figured there is an advantage to playing the audio version of a book in class and have the students read along:

1. It puts all students at the same reading pace as others.
2. The pace of the reader is perfect.
3. I get observe my students and monitor their behavior.

The third one is key because today, today I scored:

My sixth period is sneaky, but thankfully, they did not argue with me when I simply reached out my hand to the three students who tried to use their electronic devices when they were suppose to be reading along with the audio in class.

And, without looking at the student, I reached out my hand to the student who was sharing clay in class. He was throwing pieces of clay. I simply walked up to him and had him place the clay in my hands.

And I held out my hand until every chunk was placed in my palm.

Well my hand was reached out like that, but my facial expression and my mentality was very similar.

Some teachers would immediately write a referral for the student, but I do not do that unless I have given a verbal warning. I may find other culprits doing the same tomorrow in other class periods.

Looks like I will be doing more observing tomorrow.

HahhHHAA!

Used Pt. 2

Originally posted by nctinfo

You looked at the bright screen of your phone and smiled. You wanted nothing more than to be in front of him right now. Quickly, you sat up from your bed and put on the closest pair of shoes you could find.

You made your way down the staircase quietly and were careful not to wake your parents or brother. They could never find out you were sneaking out in the dead of night to meet a married man. What would they think of you?

As you trod to his house, you noticed a dark silhouette by the wooden door. Your heartbeat sped up and you felt a tingling sensation on your lips, remembering the kiss from earlier.

“Y/N,” Lee Taeyong greeted, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Before you could respond, he was dragging you inside the house.

“Don’t make any noise, Jaehyun’s sleeping upstairs,” he whispered, placing a thin finger over his lips.

Quickly, you nodded and he continued to take you in the direction of where you had been earlier, the dining room. I guess this was the room farthest from the bedroom.

When you two reached the intended destination, his grip on your wrist automatically loosened. He stood just in front of you, his tender eyes peering into yours.

“You wanted to find out how good I can make you feel, baby girl?” he smirked, his fingers gingerly pulling the waistline of your pants.

Although his touch distracted you, your eyes never left his; you were completely captivated by his demeanor. In this moment, you wanted nothing more than for him to take ownership of you. What was this sudden change of heart?

He took your unresponsiveness as a yes and proceeded to lower your pants, leaving you only in your light blue panties. He attached his lips to yours. The kiss deepened as he backed you up until you felt the sturdy edge of the table below your ass. Teasingly, he bit at your now swollen lips and dragged his fingers over your clothed heat. 

“Mr. Lee, please,” you whined against his mouth. 

“Kitten, call me Taeyong.” 

“Taeyong, please…” 

“Please what?” he breathed, the warmth tickling your neck. 

“Fuck me.”

His gaze turned dark. Within seconds he had you pinned on the Victorian table, your panties discarded on the tiled floor while his middle finger steadily pumped in and out of you. You whimpered, a weird and foreign feeling in your stomach beginning to form. When he added a second finger, a loud gasp escaped your mouth. Instinctively, he cupped his hand over your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, if you can’t keep quiet, I won’t be able to give you what you want,” he groaned.

You felt him press his hard member against your inner thigh which in turn made your stomach churn. All you wanted was to feel him inside of you; therefore, you willingly cupped your hands over your mouth and nodded. He smirked and continued to pump his fingers in and out of you while his other hand squeezed your right breast and his tongue made circles on your neck. 

“You’re dripping, kitten. I think you’re ready for me.” 

He sat up on the table and hastily stuffed his hand into his pocket, bringing out a small, square-shaped wrapper. 

“I’ve actually never used one. Can you help me put it on?” he confessed smiling shyly at you. 

You returned the smile and seized the small package from his hands. Although you hadn’t used a condom either, you had learned how to put one on a banana in sex ed. Carefully, you obtained the condom from its wrapper as he lowered his pants, his hard cock springing out. Usually, you would’ve been shy and hesitant on sliding a condom over one’s private but right now, you needed him to fuck your brains out. You slid the condom over his erect member as your lustful and needy eyes swallowed each other. Hesitantly, he moved in between your legs as you remained seated on the dining table. 

He held his throbbing member and slid every inch of it into your dripping pussy. His warm, wet tongue played with yours as his hips grinded onto you. Never had you been granted this much pain and pleasure in your life. 

Your breathing soon became shallow; the unceasing thrusts granting you an overwhelming amount of pleasure. Unable to suppress your moans any longer, you tightly cupped your mouth with one hand and grasped at the table with the other. Taeyong sped up his pace and cocked his head back, on the verge of release. 

Within seconds, you felt the knot in your stomach snap but Taeyong didn’t stop. His rough hands squeezed your breasts mercilessly as his thrusting became erratic. As you lay there, you felt your body being pushed up harshly against the cold table.

“Taeyong, I can’t,” you begged, your heat beginning to ache from the over-sensitivity.

“Shut up,” he demanded, his eyes shut as he pounded into you continuously.

After a minute of senseless thrusting and you not trying to think of the discomfort, he orgasmed. He pulled out of you and disposed of the seed-filled condom. 

You dressed yourselves in silence. The libido, which was present seconds ago, had vanished and left only a pair of embarrassed individuals. As he walked you to the front door, you realized you were the only one who was left feeling disconcerted and vulnerable. The look in his eyes said it all. This hadn’t been the first time.


“Can I taste you next time?” Taeyong teased, biting his lips.

You smiled as your cheeks glowed red under the dim light just outside his house; you couldn’t muster up a single reply. 

“Goodnight, Taeyong,” you said timidly. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

In the cold winter night, you trudged to your safe haven. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt after the careless act. It had brought you more pain than pleasure. Would it feel better next time? Why were you even thinking of a next time? You expelled the thoughts from your head and drifted into a deep sleep. 

 Once again, you found yourself in class on a snowy Monday morning. The weekend had allowed for much contemplation and newfound regret. 

You found yourself asking infinitely many questions, one which rose above all. What made you think sleeping with a married man would be a good thing?


During your Mathematics lecture, your eyes never met with Taeyong’s. He called on you once to solve a problem on the board. You went up to the board, solved the problem, and were able to avoid his icy stare. 

Four days had passed without any contact. It was Friday morning and you were anticipating the weekend. Your family had planned an out of town trip and you hoped it would clear your head of all things Taeyong. 

Mr. Lee began the lecture as per usual and you jotted down the examples he was writing on the board. Somewhere in between derivatives and integrals, you stopped listening to the lecture. The events of Friday night held your thoughts captive. How could you act in such a horrid manner? Had your morality completely vanished?

A faint voice off in the distance released you from your thoughts. You hadn’t realized the frustration and annoyance in the voice until your full focus was on the tall figure in front of you. 

“Y/N, this is no place for daydreams.”

“Be prepared for an hour of detention after school,” Mr. Lee announced, his tone irritated yet his eyes told a different story. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You knew you not paying attention to the lecture was not enough for detention on a Friday. 

You went along with your day and at four o'clock, you headed to Mr. Lee’s classroom. You were going to explain to him how your family was planning to leave before evening. 

As you walked into the classroom, you observed Mr. Lee leaning against the desk, a stack of papers in his hands. You had to admit the view was nice. 

His platinum-colored hair was messily combed to the side, as if he had used his fingers to comb it, and he wore a black button down with matching slacks. 

You knocked lightly on the door which had been left ajar. 

“Come in,” Mr. Lee said, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him. 

“Actually, I- ” 

“Don’t say anything.” 

He set the papers aside and ambled to where you were. His hand reached for your wrist and you were tugged into the classroom. He slammed the door shut behind you and turned to you. Now, his gaze was solely on you. 

Again, you were left speechless. 

“Why have you been avoiding me, Y/N?” he questioned, gently placing a wintry hand on your cheek.

You flinched due to the coldness. He swiftly retracted his hand and his once clement demeanor changed to one of predation. 

“You know what I think?” 

He didn’t let you answer. 

“I think you’ve been a very bad girl, Y/N. You come to me in the dead of night and give yourself to me. Did you expect for it to end there?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“If you did, you were mistaken–Baby girl, I think you need to be punished,” Taeyong stated, and this last was in a different voice. It was playfully taunting yet sinister. 

In his eyes, lust was evident. However, why was there no sign of affection? Of love?

Because it was sheer lust.

If you are an early childhood education major–or any other education major–why the heck are you coming to your field placements with a negative attitude??

I’m placed in a 2nd Grade classroom this semester and so is another girl in my major. This was only our second day there and she has the worst attitude. “Once 12 hits, I’m out of here. I don’t care what she [our mentor teacher] has us doing." 

One of the little boys said bye to both of us as we were leaving and she didn’t notice. I said, "He said bye to you, too.”

She goes, “I don’t care. It’s 12…I’m done. I’m not their tutor after 12.”

I’m sorry, but can you please choose another major? Or stop complaining about spending just 3 and half hours vs the 9+ you would be spending at school once you become a teacher. 

Oh well. She makes me look good in comparison. I try my best to be an active observer of the class and lend help when it’s needed. The other girl is going through all the random drawers and supplies in the classroom, drawing attention to herself as she does it, and generally looking like an idiot to our mentor teacher. Plus she doesn’t dress professionally and she needs to brush her hair or something before she comes to the school.

I don’t like to speak badly of others all the time, but honestly she pisses me off.

Apartment 504 - Chapter 1

Summary:

Mark eyed the glass in Jackson’s hand and hesitated.  He didn’t know this man. The only time he’d ever talked to him was once when Jackson was intoxicated past the point of coherence, and once after both had returned home at the same time. This man was so loud, so sporadic, so unpredictable, and so unlike anyone Mark would ever want to be around.

But still, after a timid look into Jackson’s hopeful brown eyes, Mark met Jackson’s glass midway, the clink of glass and a shared smile between the two kicking off the start of the night.

More Chapters

[Chapter 1]  [Chapter 2]  [Chapter 3]  [Chapter 4]

Also read on Archive Of Our Own:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11292225/chapters/25263081


Growing up, Mark was a shy kid.  Throughout all his years in school he was the student who sat in the back of the classroom listening, observing, absorbing. That’s not to say he wasn’t an excellent student, because he was—A’s and B’s year after year; he just wasn’t one to raise his hand to answer questions in class or get involved in student council or drama club like the rest of his fellow classmates.  He liked alone time—in fact, he thrived off alone time.  His parents were always getting on him about “putting himself out there” and “trying new things” and “meeting new people” but that wasn’t the type of person Mark was.  He was much more content sticking to being an introvert.

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Today I got to observe a classroom where my son might go to school next year. I miss teaching and these children are just priceless as are the individuals who dedicate their energy and passion to treat them with kindness and love while sharing their passion for learning.

Vigilante

Summary: This wasn’t supposed to happened between you and Peter Parker. In the classroom, you both had feelings for each other, but in the streets, you were practically enemies. What happens when the person you hate the most, becomes someone you care deeply about?

Characters: Reader x Peter Parker

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 913

A/N: I’M BACK!!! So after a mediocre semester I am back for the holidays! I’ll try posting as much as I can, but I can’t promise much. This was a request I’ve had for ages and I didn’t expect to write so much, so I’m splitting it into two parts because it’s easier for me to write and for the reader to read. I hope you enjoy it.


SUNDAY

“You think you were getting away from me tonight?” You said to the criminal who you had pinned to the ground with your foot. He struggled to get up, but couldn’t because you had super strength.

“If you keep squirming, I’ll only press on you more.” He struggled and you followed with more pressure. His groans filled the alley way.

“Excuse me ma’am. I don’t think a petty theft deserves a rib crushing.” You rolled your eyes at the too familiar voice who belonged to Spider-Man.

“Really now? What does he deserve then? He’s trash Spidey! He’ll do it again!” You crushed down harder on the suspect. He winced in pain and suddenly you were thrown against a wall, bounded by Spider-Man’s webs.

Spider-Man perched himself on the edge of the dumpster and tilted his head, “You may be strong, but you’re no match for my webs. I’m going to take him to a hospital. I’m sure I’ll see you again. Good luck getting out of the webs.”

With that Spider-Man grabbed the man with his web and disappeared into the night. You were left struggling, trying to break free from his capture. You got so frustrated, that eventually anger took over and were able to break free. You hated Spider-Man with a passion. He thought he was being the hero of New York City when no real justice was served. You made sure these criminals paid for their crimes and Spidey’s way was not your way.


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8

Maria Montessori opened the first Casa dei Bambini in Rome on January 6, 1907, enrolling 50 or 60 children between the ages of two or three and six or seven.
At first, the classroom was equipped with a teacher’s table and blackboard, a stove, small chairs, armchairs, and group tables for the children, and a locked cabinet for the materials that Montessori had developed at the Orthophrenic School. Activities for the children included personal care such as dressing and undressing, care of the environment such as dusting and sweeping, and caring for the garden. The children were also shown the use of the materials Montessori had developed. Montessori herself, occupied with teaching, research, and other professional activities, oversaw and observed the classroom work, but did not teach the children directly.
Day-to-day teaching and care were provided, under Montessori’s guidance, by the building porter’s daughter.
In this first classroom, Montessori observed behaviors in these young children which formed the foundation of her educational method. She noted episodes of deep attention and concentration, multiple repetitions of activity, and a sensitivity to order in the environment. Given free choice of activity, the children showed more interest in practical activities and Montessori’s materials than in toys provided for them, and were surprisingly unmotivated by sweets and other rewards. Over time, she saw a spontaneous self-discipline emerge.
Based on her observations, Montessori implemented a number of practices that became hallmarks of her educational philosophy and method. She replaced the heavy furniture with child-sized tables and chairs light enough for the children to move, and placed child-sized materials on low, accessible shelves. She expanded the range of practical activities such as sweeping and personal care to include a wide variety of exercises for care of the environment and the self, including flower arranging, hand washing, gymnastics, care of pets, and cooking. She also included large open air sections in the classroom encouraging children to come and go as they please in the room’s different areas and lessons.
She felt by working independently children could reach new levels of autonomy and become self-motivated to reach new levels of understanding. Montessori also came to believe that acknowledging all children as individuals and treating them as such would yield better learning and fulfilled potential in each particular child. She continued to adapt and refine the materials she had developed earlier, altering or removing exercises which were chosen less frequently by the children.
Also based on her observations, Montessori experimented with allowing children free choice of the materials, uninterrupted work, and freedom of movement and activity within the limits set by the environment. She began to see independence as the aim of education, and the role of the teacher as an observer and director of children’s innate psychological development. (x)

Everyone would have agreed it was a shame that two weeks passed before Professor Flitwick realized why the child’s feather was failing to rise. “Louder, boy!” he instructed, when he finally reached the far left corner of the classroom to observe the student’s wandwork.

“Wingar—-dium leviosa” the boy had said.

“Don’t pause in the middle, say it smoothly, like this.” Professor Flitwick demonstrated, the feather floating gracefully up a dozen inches then settling back to the desk. “Again!”

“W-w-w-ingar—dium le-le-lev—”

And that was when the professor had nodded in understanding and quickly ushered the child to the infirmary.

“No wonder he’s been so shy since he arrived, the poor thing’s ashamed to speak,” he explained to a bustling Madam Pomfrey. She shook three drops of Graphorn Gall onto the terrified boy’s tongue—expensive, but worth it for the permanent fix—flicked her wand twice and spoke the explicare charm. There was a quick red glow across his chin, and a loud pop that made him startle. The boy reached up tentatively to his lips.

“There, let’s hear you now.”

“Wingardium leviosa,” the boy said quietly.

“Ah ha! Very good,” exclaimed Madam Pomfrey. “Back to class, you’ll have those feathers flying in no time.” She escorted them out with a smile, placed her vial of Graphorn Gall back on the shelf, and proceeded to forget the incident entirely.

She wasn’t there to see the boy’s shy eyes when he greeted his parents at King’s Cross in December, his mother gasping at his free-flowing words, his father’s cheeks damp with pride. And many years later, when she noticed a former Head Boy return to Hogwarts with special permission to access the charms library, she could not have recalled their first meeting.

No one saw him alone in the guest quarters that night, pouring over ancient magical-reversal texts, muttering one incantation after another with wand pointed to his lips. “This is my voice,” he repeated quietly between each attempted spell. “This is my voice.” Another flick of his wand. “Th-th-this is my vvvvvoice.”

No, Madam Pomfrey was peacefully asleep after another day of mending the broken. She didn’t hear the man’s long, deep exhale, or see his bitter smile.

(Written and submitted by littleredspaces. This comes with the author’s note: “A look at non-consensual healing and the erasure of disabled identities in the wizarding world.

I’ll confess, I had to check in with littleredspaces before I understood this fully, not realizing that I had blinders on, so used to my way of looking at the world that I couldn’t understand the horror here. I’m extremely grateful to littleredspaces for taking the time to explain, and, even more so, I’m grateful that this was written. It uses the trappings of the magical world to tell us a story that is decidedly not magical in any way, that is real and all too painful.)

good news.

SOOO..

I decided to leave my job as the current (idek) teacher of the daycare center. It just wasn’t working out - the new (but actually old) boss doesn’t care about the staff (or the kids for that matter), I haven’t been in MY classroom other than for at the end of the day where it doesn’t matter ‘cause we have to combine by then anyway, and that hella doesn’t make sense because I gotta get the classroom ready for observations with my co-teacher, I got in trouble for something dumb last week and that was the last straw for me, so I started applying for more places.

I landed an interview pretty much immediately after applying as a teacher at a daycare academy and after the interviews on Monday and Tuesday, I got offered the job on Tuesday while sitting across from boba girl. It was a pretty emotional and proud moment ‘cause she really pushed me to try for other jobs.

Anyway, I fucking walked out today.

I figured it would be courteous to at least finish the week, but that was all I felt like they deserved after how shitty I’ve been treated lately. I was gonna finish the day, but I was convinced to just walk out during my lunch like two other people have since this particular boss started.

I never felt so freed of something so toxic. I feel terrible for some of my coworkers who may have had to stay later, but I’ve been a closer since I started, everyone else got out of it eventually but me (and I’ve asked twice). I know they’ll get over it. I told the ones I truly cared about that I was leaving.

But yeah! I have a job to go to on Monday and it pays better and the center looks so damn promising. I’m hoping this will be a solid start to a new chapter in my life.

psa && activity notice ; as most of you have probably noticed i haven’t been very active in the last few weeks. uni has started for me. and i can already tell it’s gonna be hell. on top of just regular school work, projects, etc. i have to do 15 hrs of classroom observations and 18 hrs of community service throughout the quarter. on top of working all the days that i don’t go to school. with that being said, my activity will be VERY MINIMAL until at the very least the first or second week of DECEMBER. i will try and put some time aside on the weekends to be online if i can. but the reality of it, i probably be on once a week at the most. i will try and do drafts && slowly get to my inbox when i get the chance. however, i will no longer be starting any new threads with anyone else ( sorry to my new followers && ppl i haven’t interacted with yet! ) unless a lot of plotting is involved bc i just don’t have time/muse for anything else. but for the time being i will no longer post/like any starter calls and won’t reblog memes as often until i can get more time online. i WON’T be dropping any threads i currently have, however, replies from me will be VERY SLOW && likely queued. i will be on mobile though most of the time; mostly to just add things to my queue. so if you wanna chat or plot feel free to send me ims in the mean time && i’ll do my best to get to them !! xoxo abi

The thing with rewatching a show once you have another favorite character is that there are still details you haven’t noticed before, and of course you start headcanoning on that

like how I would have never paid attention at Mimura’s bento before he became my favorite

Karaage, egg roll and bacon-wrapped aspargus, all classic bento dishes. But… that’s… a lot of animal proteins… Like there is way not enough vegetables in this…

So, I’m telling you, Mimura is one of those very picky children that eat barely nothing except meat and carbs. We all know a child like that.

Family Time - Derek Hale Imagine

Plot: Derek and [Y/N] learn something that their daughter hasn’t been sharing with them

[A/N]: I plan on doing a part 2 where they’re actually having “family time”

Word count: 880+

Status: Edited

| Part 2 |


You didn’t know what was going on or why your daughter was all of a sudden misbehaving in class. For the past week and a half, you’d been getting calls about all the awful things she had done. Finally, the teacher was fed up with it and scheduled for both you and Derek—your ex-husband—to meet with the counselor and talk about Laura’s behavior.

You walked into the small councilor’ room that was decorated in butterflies and smiley faces. The counselor shook both yours and Derek’s hand and began to speak as the three of you took your seats.

“Mr. Hale and Ms. [Y/L/N], as you know, for the past week Laura has been on her worst behavior. Apparently–” the councilor paused as she picked up a piece of paper, reading off of it as she spoke again. “She’s been throwing violent tantrums, refusing to listen to her teachers, and threatening to…rip other children’s throats out with her…teeth.”

You looked at Derek after that last problem was said. He raised an eyebrow and smirked a little before turning back to the counselor.

“Look, Ms….” he trailed off, waiting for her name.

“Caldwell.”

“Ms. Caldwell, I can assure you Laura is nothing like this at home. I don’t what’s gotten into her.” His eyes flickered over to your daughter who sat in a chair near the wall, her arms folded and her lips pouted.

“I believe you, Mr. Hale. Your daughter is the top student in her class. When she started behaving like this, we were all shocked.”

“Well, do you know what’s going on? Is she being picked on in class, o-or is the work getting harder for her. Maybe she’s—“

You wanted to ramble on in hopes that you’d find out what was wrong with Laura so you’d stop getting mid-day phone calls at work about your five-year-old throwing chairs across the room, but the councilor cut you off.

“That’s the thing, I’ve observed the classroom. She gets along with everyone in class, and her grades are the same as usual, maybe even above average for a kindergarten student.”

The counselor paused for a moment before speaking again.

“I think I know what’s wrong.”

She pulled out a paper from a vanilla-colored folder and handed it to you.

You looked down at the paper which was actually a drawing obviously drawn by Laura. You couldn’t help the pang of sadness in your heart as you observed the picture.

There was no sun; if there was, it was completely covered by grey clouds and rain.

Taking their place as the main idea of the picture were two…nicely drawn houses, both separated by a large gap in the middle. In one house was a stick- figure woman with the word ‘mommy’ underneath. The other house had a stick-figure man labeled ‘daddy’. In the middle, where the giant gap remained, was another stick-figure drawing of a frowning little girl in a purple triangle dress. The word ‘me’ was scrawled out underneath it.

You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows, handing it to Derek who followed in your pursuit.

“Laura, would you like to explain your picture to your mommy and daddy?” Ms. Caldwell spoke.

Laura stood up; her pout had disappeared and her arms now hung loosely by her sides. She stood in between yours and Derek’s chair, slowly taking the picture from her daddy’s hands.

“This is you, Mommy. This is Daddy. This is me,” she spoke obviously.

“What else, Laura?” Ms. Caldwell responded sternly. “Tell them what you told me earlier. Why aren’t you smiling?”

Laura sighed, “I’m not smiling because I’m not happy. I’m not happy because Mommy and Daddy aren’t together.”

You placed your hand on Laura’s back and looked up at Derek who was already staring at you.

Laura’s voice grabbed your attention again. “All of my friends’ Mommies and Daddies are together, but mine aren’t. That makes me sad.” Her pout was back.

“Now explain the houses to Mommy and Daddy,” the counselor instructed.

“I’m standing in between the houses because I’m always going back and forth. One week with Mommy, the next week Daddy. It’s…” Laura paused, most likely thinking over her words, “exasperating.”

You were shocked by her choice of words. Yes, she was smart and a bit smarter than a normal five-year-old, but you still weren’t expecting a word as big as exasperating to leave her mouth.

“Well I’m sorry, sweetie,” you began to rub her back, “but there’s not much we can do about that.”

“Actually, Ms. [Y/L/N], we do have one thing in mind that might be a solution to Laura’s behavior.”

“I’m listening.”

“Studies show that Laura’s behavior is normal in this situation—parents are divorced, switching houses every week. There are a few solutions that have been used many times in a situation like this. The easiest one would probably be to spend more time together as a family.“

“So just eating dinner together would account for something.”

“Technically, yes, but it’d be a lot more effective to do something fun, maybe ice skating or a carnival. I would ask so recommend doing things together often.”

Derek turned to Laura, “Would that make you happy?”

Laura nodded eagerly before flashing a smile with a few missing teeth, “Yes, daddy, very much.”

numberoneturtlegiver  asked:

I really liked the information in your bunny video. My brothers middle school has a rabbit, Galaxy, in their classroom. She comes home to my family on the weekends and breaks. At school Galaxy isnt able to run around because she might escape or be hurt. We have tried to explain to the teacher that Galaxy needs room to run around/activities but she wont do anything about it. We have bunny proofed our house so she can run all over. Any suggestion to make school life easier or convince the teacher?

A little fold up fence with a blanket to cover the ground is great for classrooms. The fence can fold up like an accordion when not in use, but can be unfolded and set up in any shape that fits the classroom. The teacher can put the rabbit in the area to run around but still keep her contained and safe from the kids, and the blanket makes clean up really easy.

Making toys at home and dropping them off with the rabbit would make it really easy for the teacher to give them to her during the busy days. Some easy DIY toys are toilet paper rolls with crunched up newspaper inside, cardboard boxes from leftover food items (add shredded paper inside for extra fun), small towels/pillow cases tied up into a ball with string, shredded newspaper tassels tied with string or rubber band and hung through the bars, pinecones hung up or left on the ground. These toys could also be a fun project for the whole classroom. You can even observe her throughout the day and make a graph of how many times she interacts with each toy and determine which one she likes the best.

anonymous asked:

stiles angsty smoking fic please (involve lydia however you like) if you're taking prompts of course :)

Read on AO3

Fic title: Smoking Kills

Summary: Stiles Stilinski doesn’t have any friends, his mother is dead and his dad is rarely home. Feeling lonely and unable to relax, he smokes. Lydia Martin, genius extraordinaire, is not happy when she catches him smoking on school grounds.

Chapter: 

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff

Author: bittersweetrecovery (stydiaokaybye)

Notes: This didn’t turn out quite as angsty as I would have liked as it is not my forte in any way but I tried. I hope you enjoy. Also, thank you to dude-its-bcn-hlls for helping me figure out what on earth angsty smoking is.

*

It was Monday during lunch break at school and Stiles was outside in the courtyard, smoking. None of the teachers had told him to put the cigarette out so he continued to smoke and besides who even cared that he smoked? The Sheriff spent most of his time at the station these days because of the killer who was still on the loose in the nearby city – Beacon Hills wasn’t nearly big enough to have a serial killer of its own. Stiles’ former best Scott could care less about what he was doing right now since they drifted apart during their sophomore year when Scott joined the Lacrosse team and Stiles didn’t make it. Lacrosse wasn’t as easy as it looked and besides, Scott was a natural and shot to instant popularity, he even got a girlfriend who happened to be friends with the girl Stiles had had a crush on since the third grade, Lydia Martin. Lydia Martin was a genius, literally. She was 5’3, had strawberry blonde hair and green eyes that made his knees go weak. She was also the most popular girl in school and for that reason she had never even looked in Stiles’ direction, let alone talked to him but his crush had remained until after a decade when he had given up trying to catch her attention. What was the use anyway? There was never a guarantee that she was going to like him even if she did acknowledge his existence and one point or another. So why not smoke? He was friendless, motherless (in the most literal form) and practically fatherless and did not have a girlfriend. He had no one. Smoking helped him relax and ease the loneliness that was gnawing at him.

“Are you insane?” Stiles looked up from his shoes that he had been staring at for the past five minutes only to find none other than Lydia Martin standing in front of him, fuming with anger. When he didn’t respond, partly due to shock and partly because he didn’t know what to say, she continued.

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