I spend most Sundays irrationally angry at my husband.

It’s Sunday. My husband has spent the day mowing the lawn, watching television, playing video games, taking a nap, and then making dinner. He’s drinking a beer. He’s very relaxed. This is true for most weekends. 

I have spent the last eight hours sitting in our office, planning my lessons for this week, consulting my curriculum maps, searching the internet for activities, printing and making things, scribbling down a To-Do list that rivals anything from my days in college…and I’m still not done.

He is relaxing. I am more stressed right now than I ever am when I’m actually in the classroom teaching. And that makes me so, so angry.

I really hate when people are overdramatic. It bothers me a lot when people explain things in such a way that makes them sound ten times worse than they actually are. And because of this, I really try to avoid doing that myself. I will jokingly complain about teaching for days, but when it comes to my real life, I rarely complain. My motto has always been “suck it up and get it done.” I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew that I’d work well over 40 hours a week and that a lot of that extra time would be spent at home. I know, okay? I know.

But, really? Eight hours of sitting at a desk just to get ready for my job? For a lot of people, sitting at a desk for eight hours is their job. But all my desk work, the hours and hours of it, happens before and after my “job”. From 8:00 to 4:00 every day, I am working. I am teaching. There are kids in my room and I can’t turn my game off because I’d be doing them a disservice. That is the job I am paid for. But from 7:30 to 8:00 every morning, and from 4:00 to 5:30 every afternoon, and for eight hours on Sundays, I am also doing my job. Because without doing the things I do during those times, my Monday-Friday, 8-4 job would completely fall apart.

I feel like I have two jobs sometimes. One is teaching. And one is getting ready to teach. And this is what I feel so many people don’t understand about teachers. It’s not that I am lazy. It’s not that I am trying to do the bare minimum. It’s not that I am angling for a pay raise to be a “glorified babysitter”. It’s not any of the things that so many politicians are saying about me. It’s that I am tired. I am so, so tired. I want to give everything to this job, but I’m running out of things to give. I’ve given my work hours. I’ve given my evenings. I’ve given my weekends. I’ve given my own money to furnish my classroom. I’ve literally put my life and my future on hold because I don’t have time for anything but this. I’ve given a lot. And I’m glad to give, I am. I love my job.

But sometimes, every so often, I secretly wish that I had a job I could leave at 5:00 every day. I wish I had a job that I could show up for with no preparation necessary on my part. I wish I had a job that I could, in good conscience, call in sick to when I wake up and feel like I’m going to collapse. Maybe that makes me selfish, or lazy, or whatever adjective Chris Christie is using on me today.

But I don’t care. I’m tired. And I’m angry. And I’m so sick of seeing and hearing people hate me when they have no understanding of what I do. I don’t need the pay raise (though I’d take it if anyone’s offering). What I need is a break. What I need is some slack. And what I need is to go apologize to my husband because it’s not his fault he gets to have a weekend and I don’t.

Thoughtful - A Sammy Wilk Imagine (Requested)


My boyfriend Sam was finally home from Los Angeles. This was the first time he had come back to Omaha in a month or so. I was so excited to be reunited with him because it had been forever.

I got a simple text from Sam letting me knew he had just gotten to his parents house. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t come to see me first, but I knew his family was his priority.

I spent the next couple of hours waiting for a text from Sam or even a surprise knock on the door. But nothing happened. His snapchat story informed me that he was all over town, I noticed familiar stores and restaurants of downtown Omaha.

Now I was livid, the fact that he was strolling all over the city without even seeing me first was upsetting. As I got myself off the couch to make dinner, I heard the doorbell ring.

“About time.” I muttered to myself as I went to answer the door.

When I opened it I found Sam standing there with flowers, chocolates from my favorite sweet shop in town, and a smoothie from my cafe along with what I assumed to be takeout from the same cafe.

I put two and two together and realized rather than seeing me earlier in the day he had to run these errands for me first.

“Sorry I took so long baby, I wanted to surprise you.” Sam said with a smile as I let him in he house.

“Sam, you didn’t have to do this, I should’ve done something like this for you, but this is why I love you so much.” I said shaking my head as he handed me my gifts.

“I love you too and I wanted to do this, and plus I haven’t been downtown in forever it was nice, but not as nice as being reunited with you.” He said leaning down for a kiss.

“I’m so happy you’re home, now let’s eat I’m starving!” I said as I preceded to open the bag of takeout.

“So you’re not mad at me for not seeing you right away?” Sam questioned as he followed me to the kitchen.

“I was at first, but this gesture was really sweet so I understand. This was so thoughtful and amazing, so thank you.” I said as I kissed him.

“I just wanted to make this as special as possible with all your favorite things.” Sam said.

“And you did Sam, you sure did.”

anonymous asked:

ok but if you have like 50 anon children wouldn't that be very hard in a household? like, how do you tell them dinner's ready or something like that?

m8 you expect me to be making dinner for 50+ children? nah they can fend for themselves

How he reacts to you getting hurt

Illya Kuryakin:

Illya isn’t the calmest person, and that’s in every day to day life. So when you were making dinner and accidentally sliced into your hand, ending in a hospital trip, Illya was worried sick. Well, ‘worried’ isn’t the most efficient way to put it.
When he got a call that you were at the hospital, the man ran from where he was to you. He pushed past everyone in the hospital corridors, only apologising to those who were sick. He bounded into the room you were in and nearly slammed into one of the nurses. You had to hide your face you were giggling so much.
Illya sat down on the ground panting, but his eyes were glued to you. “What is the matter?!” He had mumbled, trying his best to keep calm. His hands nearly began to shake when you didn’t answer immediately.
 “Nothing is the matter my love, I cut my hand is all.” You smiled largely, showing him the stitches.
You were kinda proud of them.
“Are those … stitches?” Illya carefully reached for your sewed hand, concern etched all over his face.
“Mhm! The Doctor says it’ll heal in a few weeks, and then they’ll be able to take them out.”
Illya nodded, relieved. “You are so brave my lisichka”(meaning; my little fox).  

Napoleon Solo:
Napoleon’s reaction was something you didn’t expect, at all. For the most part of your relationship, he had been this face of suave and composure. He always seemed so sure of himself. But then you were in a minor car accident. You had never seen Napoleon so shaken up. He had met you at the hospital, you had only minor injuries. But as soon as Napoleon saw you, he nearly exploded.
His feet took him as fast as they could towards you, his arms already outstretched.
“Who did this?” was his second question, “Are you alright beautiful” was his first.
“Napoleon please, it was only an accident; nothing to be so shaken up about. Besides, half of it was my fault.” You reassured him, but only a little.
“Are you sure? Because I won’t let anyone get away with hurting you.”
You smiled. A blush started to creep onto your cheeks, he really did care for your safety.

So obsessed with Ben Rector’s new album. It’s definitely helping me unpack and organize! Apartment is slowly coming along, but I should probably make dinner now. Proud moment though… I’m drinking La Croix instead of wine (mainly because we don’t have AC and I’m currently roasting).

anonymous asked:

u shld do a blurb on how d+p make u dinner bc im melting thinking about it tbh

them cooking for u is my weakness fuk 

ok i think dan would be way into making you something really weird??? like coconut curry rice or something and you’d be like ? wtf but then you would try it and it would be really fucking good and he would just smile and be like “i know it sounded strange but it’s actually pretty good right?” and you’d kiss his temple and tell u all the things u loved about his cooking :-)

phil would def try to go on pinterest and get some wild recipe for like homemade pizza dough, and then do the spinny thing and get it super uneven and whatnot but when you actually tried it (despite him doing a lot of stuff wrong) it would be really good and when you told him he would get all mushy and happy because he made something you liked :-)

anonymous asked:

3 Harry

3. “Please, don’t leave.” You couldn’t help it, you were tearing up. You look over to Harry, who is grinning at you. “What? It’s my favorite movie, shut up.” You blow your nose indignantly into a tissue and Harry giggles. He yawns and you pull him into your body. He presses a soft kiss to your jaw before his head lands in your lap as he extends his lanky frame on the couch. You start running your fingers through his hair and find yourself distracted by him from the movie. You love these nights with Harry honestly more than when you go out and go clubbing or to dinner. It was nights in on his days off that meant the most to you, the two of you laughing and kissing as you make dinner before cuddling around each other on the couch, falling asleep watching a movie you’ve both seen a million times. The nights out were fun, but the nights in when you can really experience each other for your truest natures–they’re the reminders of why you’re so in love with this Bambi of a person.

Send us one of these prompts and we’ll write a blurb for you!

anonymous asked:

AU Where partner and hero were not aloud to go on the expedition trip and had to stay back at the guild and had to do the morning cheers on their own and also make dinner for themselves :(


sasuke-and-yukimura asked:


  • Who’s more dominant:

Of the two burning souls, neither is willing to give or submit to the other! They consider each other as partners and there for are equal in the relationship. 

  • Who’s the cuddler:

Yukimura. Masamune needs his space…a lot, and Yukimura his just a huggy guy

  • Who’s the big spoon/little spoon:

They flip flop. It depends on who gets in bed first most of the time. Last one is is big spoon. Or if one is having a bad day they become the little spoon.

  • What’s their favorite non-sexual activity:

Sparing! Karate or kendo, it doesn’t matter as long as they can make an competition out of it. Loser has to make dinner!

  • Who cooks:

Usually Yukimura because Masamune get home late from work. It was Masamune when they were still in college, and he taught Yukimura a few of his favorite recipe. Now Yukimura makes them so Masamune already has a meal ready when he gets in. Masamune cooks on the weekends though 

  • Who comes home drunk at 3am:

Masamune. He still likes to party hard, and sometimes things get a little out of hand.

  • Who kills the spiders

Neither. They both take it outside. They have a respect for living creatures both big and small. 

  • Who falls asleep first:

Yukimura. He knocks out like a light, but Masamune can’t sleep because his mind is constantly racing and thinking about the next day and what it means for his company.

  • A head canon

Yukimura is forever mad that Masamune is 3cm taller than him, and Masamune is forever mad that Yukimura is 3 months older than him.

captaintightpants90 asked:

minewt + making dinner together

Minho wrapped his arms around Newt’s waist, resting his chin on the blond’s shoulder. 

“Y’know, we could always skip the cooking and order in.”

“I’m already boiling the pasta, Min.”

Minho sighed. “Well, if we did order in, we’d have thirty minutes to kill before it got here…” Minho let his grip on Newt’s waist dip ever-so-slightly.

Newt pried Minho’s hands off of him and turned to face his boyfriend. “I’m hungry, Minho. This will be done in three minutes. We’ll be done eating in fifteen. Then we can have all night to kill.”

Minho frowned, then curled his lips into a smirk. “I have something that’ll be ready in less than three minutes, if you’re really hungry.” His eyes dropped down to his pants.

Newt rolled his eyes.

send me a pairing and an au and i’ll write you a 3-sentence drabble!!

Husband things

My freak out yesterday, in hindsight an overreaction for something I would normally just talk to him about, should have tipped me off that I was getting sick. I am the most emotional, irrational person when I’m getting sick. He’s been great today, taking the baby as soon as she’s done feeding so I can go back to sleep, bringing me food and water and ibuprofen and the thermometer. Now he’s making me dinner. My fever is coming down, but I still feel like I got run over by a truck. The terrible thing about basically anything to do with pregnancy/postpartum things is that there’s such a wide range of normal. I may feel better tomorrow, it may take a week. Whimper.

// So I was thinking more about Grizzleheimian foods today and for some reason I wanna share some food canons about what Kiera likes to eat.

So Grizzleheim is based off of the Nordics right? And fishing is big there (so many bear npcs are literally just fishing) and there are a lot of rivers, fish drying racks, etc. They seem to like to cook/roast their fish over an open fire, so I think the most popular fish in Grizzleheim would be fire-cooked and smoked fish.

I was thinking about some different types of fish and I think Kiera would (of course she would like fish in general bc duh she’s eaten it all her life) like Cod the best becayse of it’s density and texture, and also have a taste for salmon, especially grilled salmon because that’s a favorite there. So like. Wizzies going to Kiera’s house to stay the night for like a study session so Kiera makes dinner and it’s all like grilled salmon, cod and broccoli, clam chowder soup, stewed green peas, and slices from a loaf of rye bread. And everybody being eh at first because none of them really care for fish but them eating it and then being like holy moly because GH recipes are the actual best for savory food like that.

Additionally: Kiera eating salty black licorice while they work and everybody being like “What is that??” and she is like “Black licorice. Would you like some as well?” and they’re like “uhhhh okay”

 and she gives them each one and they all take a bit and then. Simultaneously gag because just black licorice is a very acquired taste, and so the salty kind??? #Shrekt. They are all just “mmmmmarHGHGH” and Kiera is like. Lel on the inside because for some reason non-grizzleheimian wizzies always react that way when she shares her black licorice with them. XD

And she’s like. “Would you rather have raspberry or blueberry licorice?” 

“These are not made with glycyrrhizin. The raspberry licorice is but dried raspberries from the bushes that grow in our forests.”

And they are all like *side eyes* “I’ll pass, thanks.”